Chapter 4
CHAPTER
“IT WAS JUST so weird, Ellie. I mean, it went a lot better than I expected it to; she said some really nice things, and offered to help with the baby … she asked how I’d been feeling so far. I can’t put my finger on it, but it still felt weird.”
It had occurred to me later that Max had barely spoken a word the whole time. Madison had certainly taken control of the entire meetup. But for all I knew, that was typical in their relationship.
“I’m sure it did,” Ellie said. “I thought the whole idea of meeting her in the first place was crazy.”
“She kept squeezing my hand, and she paid me all these compliments about my body, and how I’ll bounce right back and find a new man after the baby comes. It was nice, but felt … inappropriate, I guess? And I couldn’t tell if she was being fake.”
“I guess time will tell.”
“Yeah. I guess I’m stuck with her … at least as long as she and Max are together.”
“Unless Max changes his mind about being involved,” Ellie said.
I considered. “No, I think he’s in it for the long haul. And she’s actually encouraging him to be.”
Despite the challenges co-parenting would bring, I really hoped that would be the case.
It had hurt that my father had never reached out over the years and shown any interest in me.
I didn’t want my child to have to go through that pain of rejection.
And if having Max in our baby’s life meant making nice with his girlfriend, so be it. I can do that.
“Well, I just got to the office, so I’ll talk to you later,” I said and hung up as I reached for the lobby door.
I chewed on the end of my pen as Meredith fired off a list of action items to each of us for the Sampson account, our newest client.
Meredith had yet to announce the account manager in charge, and I desperately wanted—needed—it to be me.
I had been with the agency for more than six months, and by all indications, they were pleased with my work.
Plus, I had account manager experience from my previous agency.
And now that I had a baby to save for, I could really use the boost to my paycheck.
But again, Meredith wrapped up the meeting without mentioning it.
As I was packing my bag to head home at the end of the day, Sam, Meredith’s assistant, popped by my cubicle.
“Hey, Savannah. Just wanted to check in with you and see how the social media proposal is coming along? Meredith would like to see it tomorrow if possible so we can make any needed adjustments before the presentation to the Sampson team.”
“Yep, I’m almost finished. I’ll have it ready to show her by lunch tomorrow.” I paused. “Sam … has she said anything about who she wants to name as account manager?”
Sam grinned and spoke in a low voice. “She hasn’t decided yet, but she’s been tossing around a few names—and you didn’t hear this from me, but yes, your name is one of them.”
“Thank God!” I said in an excited whisper. “Is there anything I can do to help move my name up higher on the list?” Sam had taken me under his wing when I first started at the Blackwell Agency, and helped me build my confidence back up. I’d come to think of him as a good friend and mentor.
“Just wow her with your proposal.” He winked at me as he walked off. “Good night!”
The next few days passed in a blur of long work hours, as Meredith picked apart my proposal, forcing me to rework it several times.
It also became painfully clear that my days of symptomless pregnancy were over.
Every day was now a battle with nausea and exhaustion, and it started the second I opened my eyes in the morning.
Not to mention anything that came anywhere near my breasts made me feel like I’d been stabbed.
In the evenings, I was way too tired to grocery shop or cook, but thank heavens for takeout, and the wide array of delivery apps that could bring all manner of comfort foods to my door: Chinese, burgers, hot wings, grilled cheese—and yes, even the occasional milkshake.
I should be saving money for the baby, I thought, as the orders racked up.
On the other hand, I also had to take care of myself, since there was no one else to cook or shop for me.
Guilt definitely pinged when I shelled out for an Uber to or from work a few times, but some days, the thought of walking even those six blocks could practically bring me to tears.
I could drive myself, but parking downtown was a nightmare, and even more expensive than an Uber.
I deserve this tiny luxury, I reassured myself.
By the time I made it home at the end of the day, I could barely keep my eyes open. More than once, I fell asleep minutes after walking in the door—once, fully clothed, with my coat and shoes still on.
When five-thirty Friday came around, I was so ecstatic for the weekend, I practically danced home. I scarfed down a sleeve of Saltines for dinner, changed into my most comfortable pajamas, and fell hard into bed. I was asleep within minutes.
The next morning, I woke to a loud buzzing. I pried my eyes open and looked at the clock: 9:43. Holy shit. I slept for fourteen hours straight!
I frowned as the buzzing sound came again. What in the world is that? Finally, I realized it was the building’s intercom. Someone wanted to be let in.
I stumbled out of bed and pressed the button to open the building’s front door, before realizing I probably should have asked who it was.
I sure wasn’t expecting anyone, with the disastrous state my apartment was in.
Overflowing garbage can … sink full of dirty dishes …
random articles of clothing everywhere. It felt like I had just cleaned the place up!
How did things get messy again so quickly?
I startled as enthusiastic knocking erupted on my apartment door. I peered through the peephole. What in the world?!
It was Madison, holding a shopping bag in one arm and a vase full of flowers in the other.
“Savannah? Are you home?” she called out through the door.
What was she doing here? And how the hell did she know where I lived?
Max must have told her. Gee, thanks for the warning.
I was still in my pajamas, and my apartment looked like a cyclone had hit it. Hopefully she’s just dropping something off—I really don’t want her coming inside. I opened the door a crack and poked my head out.
“Savannah! Good morning!” she said with a huge smile.
She looked incredibly stylish, in tight pants, high-heeled ankle boots, a close-fitting t-shirt that allowed her tight, tanned stomach to peek out, and a suede jacket.
Her hair looked like she’d just stepped out of a blow-out appointment, and dangly gold earrings shone on her lobes.
And there was that Birkin bag, hanging from her forearm.
“Wow … Madison … hi. Um, I wasn’t expecting any company today. I was asleep, and—”
“You were still asleep?” She giggled and shook her head as she used her hip to push the door open and slip past me into the kitchen.
What is happening?
She hesitated by the kitchen table; with all the opened mail, empty Saltines wrappers, takeout receipts, and recycling waiting to be taken down to the bins, there was nowhere for her to set down the bag and flowers. She opted for the counter instead.
“Uh …” I struggled to keep my voice light. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help,” she said brightly, as though it should be obvious.
“Help with … what?”
“Well, I know early pregnancy can be tough—nausea, aches and pains, exhaustion—so I’m here to help make sure our baby has everything it needs.” Before I could move, she reached out and patted my stomach. “Oh! I think you’re starting to fill out!”
My mouth fell open.
“Anyway, I picked you up a few things that should help.” She started unpacking items from the bag. “This is an organic herbal tea created by top obstetricians with all the essential herbs and nutrients for pregnancy.” She held up an ornate tin.
Wow. I had heard of that tea before—that one small tin cost at least seventy-five dollars.
“And these are the best prenatal vitamins on the market, as well as some ginger lozenges you can suck on—oh, and some high-protein bars you can eat for breakfast or a snack. Both should help with the nausea.” She set the items down on the counter.
How much money had she dropped on all this stuff?
“Madison, this is really kind of you, but … totally unnecessary.”
“It’s no trouble. It’s for the baby.” She turned to face me, her eyes sweeping up and down my body. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I also wanted to ask—what’s your usual exercise routine?”
“Uh … why?”
Her forehead creased, as she pursed her lips. “It’s just so important to stay in the best shape possible while pregnant—not just so you can gain the least amount of weight, but also to keep your heart healthy, your oxygen levels up, and your blood flowing optimally.”
So she was here to … educate me?
“Plus, once the baby’s here, you’ll have Max and me to help take care of it, so you can focus on finding yourself a new man!” Her expression brightened suddenly. “I know! I’ll sign us up for a prenatal yoga class! I’ll go with you, so you don’t have to do it alone! Won’t that be fun?”
I rubbed my temples. “I don’t know—I don’t really have a lot of time right now, with work …”
Her cheerful expression melted as she tilted her head. “Savannah,” she chided. “You shouldn’t work too much. Too much stress can have negative effects on the baby.”
“Yeah, totally—it’s just that we’re onboarding a new client right now, and that’s always a lot of extra work, initially … but once they approve my proposal, things should calm down a little.”
“But Savannah—nothing is more important than the health of our child. Right?”
Okay, this was starting to get weird. Did she just say our child?
“Well, of course not,” I said, an audible sharpness in my tone, “but it’s my job. I need my job.” I hesitated. “I do walk back and forth to work every day, which is at least twelve blocks round—”