Chapter 5
CHAPTER
A WEEK LATER, I was sitting in the conference room with Meredith, Sam, the Sampson reps, and a couple other associates, when my phone dinged with a text. Several heads at the table turned in my direction.
“I’m sorry, let me put that on vibrate.” I glanced briefly at the message—it was from Madison.
I frowned as I flipped off the volume and set my phone back down on the table. I turned back to the group. We were chatting about competitors’ social media campaigns.
Bzzzzzz. My phone vibrated loudly against the table. I quickly picked it up and placed it in my lap, but couldn’t resist a glance.
Savannah? Hello? It’s Madison.
In a meeting at work. Talk to you later, I typed back. I put my phone back on the table, face down.
It vibrated again. Dammit! I snatched it into my lap again, avoiding a pointed look from Meredith.
Of course. I just wanted to check and see when the appt is?
Savannah? Are you there?
The messages kept coming as my blood pressure kept rising.
By the way, I’ve been reading this great pregnancy blog I wanted to share with you.
Here it is: (link)
Look at this section, with simple exercises you should be doing: (link)
And here’s a link to the recipe section. Many of them are very simple, even you should be able to make them! (link)
Why don’t I come over tonight and show you how to cook one?
Savannah? Hello?
It’s time to start taking your nutrition more seriously. It’s important for the baby.
Irritation boiled beneath my skin. What the actual—?
I looked up at the sound of a throat clearing. It was Meredith, looking at me with a single raised eyebrow.
I quickly tapped out another reply under the table: I’m in a meeting. Boss is getting mad. Can’t talk right now. Then I powered my phone all the way down.
“Savannah?” said Meredith, now with both eyebrows raised. “Can we trouble you to walk our friends here through the new draft of the social media proposal?”
I took a deep breath and smiled. “Absolutely.”
I stopped by the bistro after work to eat dinner at the bar and chat with Ellie while she worked. As I was eating, my next-door neighbor in the fourplex called.
“Hi, Mrs. Chun. Is everything alright?” I asked.
“Hi, Savannah. I just wanted to let you know—some woman was just here, at your place. Someone must have let her in the building. Anyway, she was knocking and ringing your doorbell forever. I finally opened my door and told her you obviously weren’t home, so she might as well stop all the racket.”
“What? Do you know who she was?”
“She said her name was Madison. She was upset you weren’t home because she bought you a lot of groceries and said you’d made plans for her to come over and teach you how to cook healthy meals.”
What?
“She said she called you, but you didn’t answer.”
Huh. I had noticed a call from Madison a little while ago, but I’d let it go to voicemail.
I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry she bothered you, Mrs. Chun. I never told her she should come over.”
“Well, I’ve got the groceries in my fridge. I didn’t want them to sit on your doorstep and go bad.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Chun. I’ll come by in a little while.”
I relayed the story to Ellie.
“So you didn’t have plans with Madison?”
“No! I never agreed to it. She was blowing up my phone at work today, texting me links to all these healthy pregnancy blogs and recipes, asking when my next doctor’s appointment was.
She offered to come over and cook with me, but I texted her back that I was in a meeting and couldn’t talk.
I finally turned my phone off when my boss started to get irritated, and she still wouldn’t stop. ”
I told Ellie about all of Madison’s notes and instructions in the pregnancy book. Her eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“I mean, it’s nice that she’s trying to be so helpful …
but her advice is starting to mess with my head.
Even ordering dinner just now, I was like, am I hurting the baby?
I was craving fish and chips, but I think there was something in the book about mercury levels in certain kinds of fish?
Ugh. I feel like she’s constantly looking over my shoulder, thinking I’m doing everything wrong, and I’m going to be a crappy mother. ”
“You are not going to be a crappy mother, Savannah. I think you just need to set some boundaries.”
I chewed my fingernail. “You’re probably right, but …
I don’t know. Things are … delicate. I just don’t want to piss Max off by pissing off his girlfriend.
What if he decides this isn’t going to work, and he doesn’t want to be involved after all?
Or, even worse—what if he decides to try and fight me for custody? ”
Ellie looked at me pointedly. “Savannah—you’re not doing anything wrong.
You’re not going to screw up this child.
You are this baby’s mother, and you’re going to do a wonderful job.
Don’t let this woman get to you. And Max should want to be in his child’s life, whether you and Madison get along or not. ”
I released a sigh of relief and smiled at my best friend. “Thanks, babe. I needed to hear that. You’re right.”
As I left the bistro, I was slightly encouraged that I didn’t feel too bad for once, and decided to walk the ten or eleven blocks home.
The bistro’s quesadilla special—one of my faves, which I had opted for instead of fish, just in case—was sitting happily in my belly, and I didn’t feel that nauseous or even that tired.
Maybe I’ll actually fold some laundry tonight.
I popped by Mrs. Chun’s apartment to retrieve three full bags of groceries—zucchini, carrots, tomatoes, onions, lean chicken breasts and ground turkey, bananas, blueberries, and raspberries. Damn, this is quite the haul.
My phone dinged.
Where were you tonight, Savannah? I went to a lot of trouble to shop for healthy groceries for you and I came by your house to help you cook some of the recipes I researched, and you weren’t there.
Just like that, all my happy feelings disappeared. My heart started pounding. Great, she is pissed. And I’m sure she’s let Max know by now.
I sighed, trying to be calm and rational. Madison, I didn’t realize you were planning to come over. Maybe there was a miscommunication?
Three dots immediately popped up.
I was just trying to be helpful. I’m worried about the baby’s health. Burgers, hot wings, grilled cheese, fries, quesadillas, and milkshakes are not good for you OR for our baby.
A surge of heat shot through me. OUR baby? I thought.
How dare she judge me and act like every decision I made was her business? Ellie was right—we clearly needed boundaries.
But how the hell was I supposed to set those boundaries? I couldn’t exactly tell her to fuck off as she was buying me gifts and healthy groceries, could I? Even if I didn’t like the tone she was taking.
I took a deep breath and started tapping out a text, then backspaced, then tried again.
The groceries are very nice. Thank you. I’ll definitely take a look at the recipes you sent.
Hopefully that would do the trick—diplomatic, but noncommittal. I refused to let her dictate my diet.
After a moment, her response popped in. Thank you. When is the 12-week doctor appt?
I rolled my eyes, then replied. I haven’t scheduled it yet.
Well, don’t forget to let us know. Good night, Savannah!!
I refrained from replying and went back to putting the groceries away.
Despite my irritation, I had to admit, it was kind of nice to see my fridge full of fresh food, instead of just takeout leftovers.
As off-putting as Madison could be, she was probably right about my nutrition—maybe it was time for me to start making more of an effort to cook at home.
It was healthier and certainly cheaper. Sure, Madison’s delivery had been an ill-timed surprise, but maybe she wasn’t completely wrong.
I was in the middle of filling one of the crisper drawers with the onions and tomatoes when something hit me.
Other than my evenings with Ellie at the bistro, I usually ate alone, in my living room. Yet Madison had just named every meal I’d eaten that week—burger, wings, grilled cheese, fries, milkshakes, and, just tonight—quesadillas.
How in the hell did she know all that?
“Isn’t that a little creepy? That she knew everything I’d eaten all week?”
It was Sunday morning, and Ellie and I were browsing the stalls at our favorite farmer’s market. Then we were going to head back to my place to make smoothies and binge-watch The Handmaid’s Tale.
“Um, absolutely. That would freak me out,” Ellie said.
“And how did she know I took an Uber to work those mornings I felt sick? She said she just happened to be passing by and saw me get into an Uber, but that’s an awfully big coincidence, right?”
Ellie shivered. “That’s definitely concerning. You need to talk to Max.”
I frowned, chewing on my bottom lip. “I just don’t want to upset him by complaining about his girlfriend.”
“Well, be gentle about it—but hopefully, he can talk to her and get her to ease off a little.”
I grinned, shaking my head. “Can you believe she wants to come to my doctor’s appointments?”
Ellie laughed. “When is your next appointment, by the way?”
“Thursday, during my lunch break. Hopefully my mom can come.”
“Are you going to tell Max about the appointment?”
I paused. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Ellie’s phone rang. I paid for a bag of peaches from one of the booths as she took her call. “Alright, what time?” She listened. “Okay, see you then.” She turned to me with a sad face. “Two other bartenders have the flu, so unfortunately they need me at the bistro today.”
“Nooooo,” I moaned with an exaggerated pout. “Well, I guess we can watch The Handmaid’s Tale another time.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“No worries. Hey, I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I handed her our bags of produce.