Chapter 25 Anna
Anna
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today because Anna has a confession,” Gemma announces as she and April enter my flat.
“You’re a dickhead,” I mutter, closing the door behind them.
After dropping Liam at his car, I managed to squeeze into a last-minute yoga class. And, in a bid to get back into the swing of being social, I invited Gemma and April over for some much-needed girl time. I follow them into my lounge room.
“What? You texted us and said it was urgent. I dropped my packing for this,” Gemma says. She and Max leave for New York for two weeks tomorrow night, for Max’s work. She settles onto the sofa and reaches into her handbag, pulling out a deck of tarot cards. “I brought supplies.”
I groan. “Not the woo-woo cards! You bring them everywhere.”
“That’s because they hold all the answers,” she says definitively.
“Gemma, you realize they’re just pieces of cardboard with pictures, right?” I pause, my eyes darting to the two empty wine glasses I set up on the coffee table before their arrival. “Wait, where’s the—”
She reaches back into her bag and pulls out a bottle of red wine. “Ta-da!”
“Ah. Bless you,” I plop onto the floor beside the coffee table.
“I can’t drink,” April whines.
“Well, whose fault is that?” I say.
She rolls her eyes, falling ungracefully into the seat beside Gemma, crossing one leg over the other, her hands folded over her very pregnant belly.
I point to her bump. “You look like you’re about to explode, Alien vs. Predator style.”
Her mouth falls open. “I’m deeply offended!”
“She’s got a point. You look ready to pop.” Gemma pats her leg before her eyes widen with horror. “Oh my God! I think I just saw its hand move from inside her!” She dry-heaves.
“How wonderfully kind of you both, thank you,” April says, sweetly. She shifts uncomfortably and fixes me with a glare. “Now, can we focus on why Anna summoned us here before I do actually explode? This baby’s using my bladder as a bloody trampoline.”
Gemma twists the cap off the wine, pouring two healthy glasses. “Right then. Spill it.”
I take a large gulp of wine. “I had sex with Liam.”
April squeals. “Like real-life sex? When?!”
“Yes. Last night.”
Gemma holds a hand over her heart. “I knew this confession was going to be juicy! Did you send the nude?”
I roll my lips to hide my smile.
April looks positively scandalized. “What! You sent him a nude?!”
“Oh, sod off, don’t act all innocent,” I say. “James stuck a dildo up your arse. A tasteful nude is hardly a big deal.”
“I’m so proud of you both,” Gemma whispers, dramatically wiping a fake tear from her eye.
“Then what was so urgent? This is good news,” April says.
“Well… he found my divorce documents. And a brochure on sperm donors.”
The silence that follows could be cut with a knife.
“Ah,” Gemma says. “I see.”
“What did he say?” April asks, her voice gentle.
I exhale slowly, remembering the look on his face when I caught him snooping. “He looked terrified. I think he was genuinely worried I was going to knock him out, steal his sperm and impregnate myself while he was sleeping.”
Gemma scrunches her nose.
April snickers. “So, what happened next?”
I tell them everything: how I explained about wanting to become a mother, about Mason, and why we divorced.
“And then,” I finish with another sip. “We agreed to keep sleeping together.”
Gemma laugh-snorts loudly, choking on her wine.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re gonna be fuck buddies? Oh, my dear, sweet, naive Anna. That never works out. Someone always falls.”
“We are not fuck buddies, thank you very much. And someone doesn’t always fall,” I say.
“Oh, please. Me and your brother were supposed to be fuck buddies and look how that turned out.” She waves her engagement ring at me.
My nose wrinkles in disgust at the mention of them fornicating. “I’m a modern woman, Gem. I can separate physical intimacy from emotional attachment.”
Gemma pats my leg. “You’re fuck buddies, babes. Don’t get me wrong, I think this is good for you,” she continues. “I’m glad you’re doing something for yourself. There’s no shame in two attractive people getting their rocks off—”
“Never say ‘getting their rocks off’ again,” I interject.
“But call it what it is. I think you’re lying to yourselves otherwise.”
“We are not lying to ourselves. Besides, you’re the one who encouraged me to send the nude.”
“Yeah, I didn’t encourage you to enter into an exclusive arrangement with him! I told you to channel your inner slag and enjoy yourself!”
I cross my arms. “We are enjoying ourselves.”
“Hey, it isn’t a bad thing! I think a regular shag will work wonders for you.” She points to my face. “You’re already glowing!”
“Get to the ‘but’ already,” I say.
Gemma sighs. “I’m just warning you to be prepared.
I think this has the potential to get a lot more serious than both of you intended, now that you’ve committed to sleeping with each other.
” She shoots upright, like a lightbulb just flicked on over her head.
“I know! Let’s consult the cards.” She sets her glass down and shuffles the tarot deck.
I groan, slapping a hand to my forehead. “I don’t need those.”
“Oooh!” April bounces in her seat. “Let her, Anna!”
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
The cards slip and snap together as Gemma shuffles the deck. She fans the cards out on the coffee table. “Pick three cards, Anna. Past, present, and—”
April lurches forward, her hand flying to her stomach.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my spine snapping straight.
“Oh,” April says, staring at me with an unreadable expression. “I just thought… I felt like . . .” She looks down at herself and gasps, her eyes growing wide. “I think my water just broke.”
The three of us freeze.
“Right now?” I ask.
“On Anna’s sofa?” Gemma adds, looking horrified.
“I’m not due until next week!” April snaps, then doubles over as she’s hit by what I can only assume is a contraction.
Chaos erupts.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” I chant as Gemma and I leap to our feet.
“Oh my God. I’m all wet!” April exclaims. “I only thought that happened in the movies!”
“GET YOUR UTERUS JUICE OFF MY COUCH!” I shout, totally panicked.
April pushes to her feet and slowly hops from leg to leg, waving her hands about. “What do I do?! What do I do?!”
Gemma covers her eyes. “IS SHE CROWNING?! SOMEONE CALL NINE-NINE-NINE!”
“Someone call James!” April shouts.
“Right!” I say, unlocking my phone with trembling fingers and calling James. April takes deep breaths. In for four, out for four.
“April, just… breathe?” Gemma says, uncertain. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Breathe?”
“I am bloody breathing!” April yells, wringing her hands and glaring at us as she puffs in and out like a blowfish.
James answers on the second ring. “Hello?”
“James! It’s Anna!”
“I know. I have caller ID,” he says calmly.
“Oh yeah.” I switch the call to speakerphone.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“April’s water just broke,” I say, running my hands through my hair nervously.
“Shit. Right now? Okay,” he says, and I hear footsteps, as if he’s pacing. “Can you time the contractions?”
“I can’t bloody count right now!” Gemma shouts.
I watch Gemma and April nervously, a loud noise tearing from my chest when I see April double over with another contraction. “No! We have no idea what we’re doing!”
“All right. We all just need to calm down,” James says. “I need you to drive April to the hospital, can you do that for me? I’m at the recording studio in Richmond, so I can meet you there in twenty-five minutes, okay?”
“What do you mean?! Like, by myself?! What if the baby slides out? What happens if April dies?” I squeal.
“Ahhhhh!” Gemma wails, running around in a circle, searching for something.
“Anna!” James yells. “Calm. The fuck. Down! Everything is going to be fine. Just get her to the bloody hospital.”
“Ah-ha!” Gemma exclaims, a set of keys dangling from her finger. “I’ve got my car keys!”
“Okay,” I say, nodding through the panic.
“Please tell her I love her,” he says.
“I love you too, baby!” April calls from where she’s seated on the sofa again.
“GET OFF MY FUCKING SOFA!” I shout at her.
“GET HER TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!” he bellows.
“Fine!” I shout.
“It feels like I’m shitting barbed wire!” April cries.
“Well, the good news is nobody panicked,” I say, lifting my paper cup in cheers with Gemma’s. I take a sip of the bitter, grainy hospital coffee and wince.
April and James have been here for six hours. Gemma and I left them to it after we dropped April off, Max taking us home to change before we returned in the evening.
James hasn’t left April’s side.
“Nailed it,” Gemma agrees. “I think we all did quite well, considering the circumstances.”
“Gemma, you threw up in your purse,” Max says.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, turning to him. “I’d love to see what you would do if someone spilled their uterus juice on your trousers.”
“Amniotic fluid,” Max corrects her.
“Why do you even know that?” Gemma asks, curling her lip.
James’s parents, Caroline and Peter, arrive, joining us on the hospital benches, voicing their excitement. We hear screams, groans and cries coming from April’s birthing suite before everything falls silent.
“Do you think she’s shat all over the bed?” I whisper to Gemma.
“I bet it’s everywhere,” she whispers back, wide-eyed.
An hour later, James emerges from the room. He has bags under his eyes, tear-stained cheeks and a tired smile. “He’s here. Would you like to meet him?”
A boy.
Everyone stands, making their way inside.
Just before I step through, I pause in the sterile hospital corridor. My throat constricts with unexpected emotion.
My best friend just became a mama.
I love April so much, and I’ve always felt thrilled for her and James.
But, for months, I’ve also been secretly dreading this moment.
Afraid to see her holding her baby and feel nothing but the sharp sadness of what I don’t have.
I’ve been terrified of holding her baby, smiling and cooing over him while dying inside.
Worried I’d be consumed by jealousy and bitterness when faced with what I’ve always wanted the most. But standing here now, all I feel is pure, overwhelming joy.
The room is spacious and bright, with plenty of space for everyone to stand and fuss over the little guy.
“Anna.” April’s voice comes out hoarse. “Would you like to hold him?”
She watches me from her bed, her smile tired but ecstatic as James sits beside her, cradling their perfect little bundle. He’s swaddled in a mint green wrap and wears the tiniest little knitted beanie I’ve ever seen.
Caroline and Peter hold hands, wiping away tears. I nod, smoothing down my baggy jumper and stepping closer, my hands shaking.
James looks up, tears pooling in his eyes, and rises carefully. “Here,” he whispers. “Meet your Auntie Anna, sweet boy.”
Auntie.
My arms form a cradle as James ever so gently transfers him to me, and I’m careful to support his head. He’s so light, so warm, and impossibly perfect.
I tense my jaw, biting down on my lower lip and squeezing my eyes shut for just a second, fighting back my own tears. Max steps up beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. He knows.
I cup the baby’s tiny rosy cheek in my hand, and he fusses momentarily before settling himself, smacking his little lips together in contentment. A tear spills over my lashes as my thumb strokes back and forth over his velvety-soft skin.
“He’s perfect,” I breathe.
When I look up at April, her hand is clamped over her mouth, tears streaming down her face as she watches me with him. Even Gemma is having a hard time holding in her emotions, a quiet sob slipping free.
“What’s his name?” I whisper.
April gives a lopsided smile. “Elliott.”
“Elliott,” I repeat softly, sniffling. I spot strands of red peeking out from underneath his hat and my heart nearly seizes at the cuteness. “He has your hair,” I say, looking at April.
She nods, grinning from ear to ear.
I watch, captivated, as Elliott is passed around the room for cuddles. The elation dancing across April’s and James’s faces as their baby boy is held by their nearest and dearest, their eyes shining with love.
And my heart has never felt so full.