Chapter 20 Gabi
GABI
“Gabi dear? Can you grab me a scone to go? I’m taking it to my boyfriend.”
I raise an eyebrow to Phyllis. I know I’ve been out of it the past few days, but I feel like I should’ve known this. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”
“You’re not the only one around here who can bag a youngin’,” she says. “John is a ripe seventy-five and he can still drive. Hottest guy in the home.”
“She stalked him for months,” Kitty adds. “He finally gave in last week.”
“And I’m just finding out about it?” I say as I deliver the to-go pastry.
“We’ve barely seen you,” Phyllis says in a semi-chiding way. “Between how busy you are now, and you taking off early the last few days, I feel like we haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, truly feeling guilty. “The last few days have been a lot. I needed some time to sort some things out.”
If that’s not the understatement of the century, I don’t know what is. Because “sorting some things out” really means buying pre-natal vitamins, crying a lot, freaking the fuck out, and throwing up.
So much throwing up. Whoever coined the term “morning sickness” had to be a fucking man. Because no way a woman gave a title to something that is that misleading.
I feel like it’s all I do. From the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep, I’m battling so much nausea I can barely get out of bed. Every once in a while in the middle of the day I’ll think, “Wow, I’m done.”
Wrong. Five seconds later, I’m making a beeline to the bathroom and thanking the architectural heavens I have a bathroom in the back so I’m not throwing up in the customer restroom.
Because if Phyllis and Kitty were to have seen me ten minutes ago, they’d be asking questions.
And I wouldn’t put it past them to figure me out before I’m ready to say the words “I’m pregnant” out loud.
Which I haven’t yet. To anyone.
“Are you feeling okay?” Kitty asks. “You look pale.”
Damn, she’s good…
“I’m fine.” I wave her off, making sure to also turn around so she can’t analyze my sickly appearance anymore. “Do you want a bear claw for the road before I close up?”
“I’m good,” she says. “Plus, I only saw one left. Save it for that hunk of a man of yours.”
“You mean the man we haven’t seen this week?” Phyllis adds. “Is everything okay with you two?”
“Yes. Fine. We’re fine,” I assert, though probably a little too quickly.
“That doesn’t sound fine,” Kitty says. “You two just started dating. The honeymoon shouldn’t be over yet.”
“She’s right,” Phyllis adds. “You’re still in prime bang like rabbits time.”
Oh for fuck’s sake…
“Schedules aren’t aligning. Don’t worry. Everything is fine.”
At least, I hope it is. Then again, if it’s not, it’s completely my fault.
As I go to say something out of my ass to get these two to stop asking me questions, the bell above the door rings, and I almost faint from surprise when I see the brown hair walking through it.
“Shelby! What the hell?”
I run over to my best friend, nausea be damned, and hug the crap out of her. “When did you get into town?”
“Came straight from the airport,” she says, patting my back as I squeeze the life out of her. “Figured I’d surprise you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?” I ask. “I’d have picked you up.”
“I needed to rent a car anyway, so this is better.” Shelby links her arm in mine and walks us deeper into the bakery, straight to my favorite pair of ornery customers. “You two must be the infamous Phyllis and Kitty I’ve heard so much about.”
“In the flesh,” Phyllis says. “And you must be one half of the duo who took our girl here to Vegas.”
“Guilty as charged,” she says. “I’m Shelby.”
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Kitty says. “Unfortunately, we have to get going. Can you make sure Gabi here eats something and gets to bed at a good time tonight? She hasn’t been feeling herself.”
“Tattle tale,” I say to Kitty. “No more bear claws for you.”
“I’ll chance it,” she says. “Phyllis. Let’s go. Your boyfriend is outside with our ride.”
Phyllis stands up slowly and slips on her long trench coat. “Damn right he is. He knows he better be on time if he wants any tonight. Wednesdays are blow job nights.”
I slap my hand to my forehead, thankful they’re the only two in here right now. But Shelby? I think she might pee her pants laughing.
“Phyllis, I want to be you when I grow up,” Shelby says as she wipes tears from her eyes.
“Then always have a man ready to go,” she says. “Never settle for one, and keep the one you do have on their toes.”
“It’s like you’re a prophet.”
“Better than all the shitty male ones who start cults,” she says. “Bye, you two. See you tomorrow!”
Shelby is still laughing her ass off as I fall into the seat just abandoned by Kitty. “Proof every story I tell you about them is real.”
“If anything you didn’t tell me enough,” she says. “But back to what Kitty was saying. Are you feeling okay?”
Lying and hiding my symptoms to a few regular customers and my part time employees is one thing, but lying to Shelby? Impossible. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try.
“Yeah, I'm fine.”
As if my stomach wants to scold me for lying, I’m flying out of my seat the second the words are out of my mouth.
Thankfully this isn't a long bout. And in the grand scheme of what my body's put me through over the past few days, it's not even in the top five worst. But it's enough for my conscience to punish me for being a damn dirty liar.
I’m not fine. In so many ways.
I quickly splash some water on my face and rinse my mouth out the best I can before making my way back out to where I left Shelby.
When I’m back in view, I watch as Shelby turns off my “open” neon light and locks the door.
When she turns to me, her arms are crossed, and I know I’m about to get scolded.
“How far along are you?”
“What?” I ask, playing stupid. There is no way she could know.
“You’re pregnant, aren't you?”
“I’m…that’s…why would…”
I splutter my way into silence and stare at her. I didn't expect her here, so it’s not like I rehearsed how to tell her. Plus, I thought I had more time to figure out how I was going to tell anyone. But like most of my life over the past few years, this is not going as planned.
Shelby doesn’t ask again as we both take a seat. She reaches for my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. It’s funny how that one little action relaxes me and provides enough strength to say the words out loud for the first time.
“Yes. I’m pregnant.”
I look down at the table, letting the words hover in the air. I thought saying it out loud would make me cry. I mean, I’ve cried every time I’ve thought about it, so it would’ve tracked.
I cry thinking about it. Then I cry because I’m crying. Then I feel even worse for crying, and cry some more. I’m basically a clusterfuck of emotions.
"Hey," Shelby says softly. "You tell me what you need me to be right now. Am I excited to be Auntie Bee, or am I making a few calls? No matter your answer, I ask no questions and will make zero judgments.”
God I love this woman. Considering how much she hates Nashville, I know whatever’s brought her into town isn’t making her happy, but I’m so fucking thankful she’s here.
“I’m…I don’t know if I can make myself be excited yet. But I’m keeping it. That I know. The rest? I have no fucking clue.”
I spoke too soon. Cue the tears.
Without hesitation, Shelby gets up from her seat to move one closer to mine, making it easier for her to wrap me in her arms. My best friend isn’t an overly touchy-feely person, but man, does her hold right now feel good.
“That is all understandable. I remember the first time you told me you wanted to start trying, but the douche canoe talked you out of it. My heart broke for you. And now you’re starting this new phase of your life, and bam!
Baby. It makes sense to feel a shit ton of emotions.
You wanted this for so long, just not this way. ”
I love this woman for knowing me so well that she perfectly articulated every thought going through my head.
Justin and I had been married for thirteen years.
And yes, I know most of that was spent with him in med school, and then his residency, and I was okay with working to take care of us.
But I'd always wanted a family. And like so many other things during that part of our marriage, it was always with the caveat of “soon.”
Soon…when he was done with his residency.
Soon…after I started the bakery.
Soon…after the economy recovers, because it’s too expensive to have a child.
Obviously that was another soon that never happened.
Then again, maybe it was a small favor from whoever controls my fate that we never got pregnant. Custody and child support would’ve made the divorce even worse than it already was. Now, he can be cleanly out of my life, and I don't have to see him every other weekend at drop-off.
But having a baby now? At this stage of my life? And with Maddox? A twenty-four-year-old man I just started getting used to dating? This isn’t how it was supposed to be.
“I want to be excited,” I say honestly. “This just…the timing is…”
“Shit?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I say through a huffed laugh.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this. If I can handle it.
The bakery is still getting on its feet.
I was looking forward to being my own woman.
Traveling. Doing every single thing that I wanted to do in this city that I never got to do when I was married.
“And then there’s Maddox…”