Chapter 8
CHAPTER
“IT WAS DEFINITELY not me,” I argued, “especially if the purchase was made at three in the afternoon on a Tuesday. I was at work. I can get coworkers to vouch for me if it will help.”
This was not the way I wanted to start my Sunday morning—arguing with my credit card company about the fraudulent charges.
Ellie emerged from the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?” I’d woken her up.
I walked over to the couch where my laptop sat open and turned it around to face her. I saw the shock on Ellie’s face as she read the email I’d discovered in my inbox that morning.
The email informed me that my disputes of the fraudulent charges on my card were being denied due to a security camera photo they’d received from a liquor store in the city called Sid’s Spirits, where one of the largest charges had been made.
The photo showed a woman with shoulder-length brown hair, wearing black ballet flats and a stretchy knit dress with a cardigan. The cardigan was open, revealing a slight baby bump. The woman was standing at the store’s checkout counter as an employee rang up her gigantic liquor purchase.
Due to the so-called photographic evidence of the purchase, the store’s management had filed their own dispute against my claim of fraud.
“I’m four months pregnant,” I shouted into the phone. “Do you really think I would be buying that much booze—booze that I can’t drink?”
“Ma’am, as I explained, you will be given the opportunity to …” I tuned the rest out. We’d been going back and forth in pointless circles anyway.
I was too angry to continue the conversation. “Fine. Thank you.” I hung up the call and turned to Ellie with a stricken look.
“Where did that photo come from?” Ellie asked.
“Who the hell knows? This is the first time I’m seeing it too,” I said, burying my face in my hands.
Of course, my brain immediately went to Madison.
But the woman in the picture was clearly not Madison—her build was all wrong.
“How is this even possible, Ellie? A woman that looks exactly like me, who’s also pregnant, makes a purchase like that with my credit card?
Someone is obviously trying to make it look like it was me, right? ”
“This is absolutely nuts,” Ellie agreed, shaking her head.
“What am I going to do if I get stuck with all these charges? Eight thousand dollars. I don’t have that kind of money. I’m supposed to be saving up for the baby!”
Ellie pulled me into a half-hug. My heart was beating way too fast. Stress isn’t good for the baby, I thought. But how am I supposed to be calm about this?
“Don’t worry, Savvy,” Ellie said in a soothing voice. “We’ll figure this out.”
I shuffled into the kitchen to get a glass of water.
“They said I can ask someone from the office to verify that I was there at the time the purchase was made. I’ll ask Sam.
It had better work, or I am totally screwed, especially since I didn’t get the promotion to account manager …
thanks to Madison and her expertly timed balloon delivery. ” My voice dripped with bitterness.
Ellie frowned as she followed me into the kitchen. “You don’t think …?” She looked at me in a way that told me we were both wondering the same thing.
“That these charges could be Madison too? Yeah, I thought about that. And what about last night? How did she know I would be at the High Note? Am I supposed to believe that was a coincidence? And if she did know I’d be there, does that mean maybe she’s also the one who set up that pervert Rob from the app? ”
Ellie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe she would do something like that. I mean, that goes way beyond being jealous. It’s insane. Luckily you took him down with that swift kick, and then the bouncer jumped in, but what if he had fought back?”
“I agree. I just don’t see how so many coincidences could happen in such a short amount of time.”
Then I remembered the anonymous threatening texts I’d received the night before. “And wait ‘til you see the creepy messages I got last night.” I took my phone out of my robe pocket to show her—but when I opened my messages, they were nowhere to be found. What? Where are they?
I scrolled and scrolled, then checked my recently deleted items folder, but they were gone—almost like they’d never existed. I looked up at Ellie, frowning. “I don’t get it—they’re gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“After you passed out, I got a couple of texts from an anonymous number. One said I don’t deserve my baby, and other said ‘maybe someone should teach you a lesson.’ It was really freaking disturbing.”
“Jesus. Do you think that was Madison too?”
“Well, who else would it be? She just spent the night telling me, in front of all my friends, what a crappy mother I’m going to be.”
“And now you can’t find the texts?”
I sighed and looked back down at my phone. “I don’t get it.” I trudged back into the living room and flopped down on the couch. “I should probably talk to Max about all this. But I really don’t want to stir up more drama.”
If I did tell him, would he even believe me? He’d admitted Madison could be intense sometimes. Even jealous. But credit card fraud? Catfishing? Would he be willing to believe his sweet girlfriend was capable of such extremes?
Ellie sat down next to me and put her hand on my leg.
“Tell you what—let’s get dressed and meet Jenna at the farmer’s market.
We’ll have a nice day and forget all about Madison.
Wanna see if Jenna wants to go see a movie later?
That new rom-com came out—the one we saw the commercial for that looked good. ”
I crushed Ellie in a side hug. “I would love something to take my mind off all this.”
Thank God for friends.
Ellie, Jenna, and I were sitting in a booth at a restaurant by the movie theater a few hours later when it happened. I gasped.
Ellie’s and Jenna’s eyes snapped up and searched my face with concern as my hands flew to my stomach.
“Savvy? Are you alright? What’s happening?”
My eyes bloomed with tears. “Oh my God.” I looked up at them, still clutching my belly. “I think I just felt the baby kick for the first time.”
Ellie squealed with delight and came around to my side of the booth. She squeezed in beside me and put her hand on my belly. I guided her hand to the spot where I’d felt it.
It took a few moments before I realized Jenna was sitting there across from us, silent, a tear winding its way down her cheek.
“Jenna? Are you okay?” I reached my hand across the table toward her.
As if she hadn’t realized she’d been crying, Jenna startled and wiped away the tear. “Oh—yeah, of course. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.” She tried to smile, but it looked forced.
“Are you sure? Is anything wrong?” Ellie asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” The pitch of her voice sounded higher than usual. “I’m happy for you. That’s so exciting! Stupid pregnancy hormones just make me so emotional sometimes.”
The baby didn’t seem to want to kick again. Ellie moved back to the other side of the table.
“Well, enough fussing about me,” I said. “Tell us, Jenna—how have you been feeling lately? How’s your little peanut?”
Jenna looked down at her plate, pushing the food around with her fork. “Good! Good. Totally fine. No complaints.”
Ellie and I shared a brief look. Jenna didn’t seem to like talking about her pregnancy anymore. Earlier, I had asked how things were going with the baby’s father, but she said she hadn’t heard from him recently and quickly changed the subject.
“Enough baby talk, though,” Jenna said. “What did you guys think of the movie?”
She was obviously avoiding something. I decided to let it slide for the moment, but made a mental note to try to talk to her more seriously later.
That night, I curled up under a blanket on my couch and tuned in to some Friends reruns on TV. The background chatter was nice as I scrolled through social media on my phone.
Suddenly, I stopped scrolling.
It was a picture of Max and Madison, standing in a picturesque garden, sharing a happy kiss. Though I wasn’t friends with Madison—I had ignored her repeated attempts to connect online—I was friends with Max, who was tagged in the photo.
The caption read, SURPRISE! We’re going to be parents!
The jolt to my system left me lightheaded. Was Madison pregnant too?
Then I noticed the post was a series of photos, each with its own caption. I swiped to the next picture.
Baby Hunter is due November 8th! Although we’re expecting by nontraditional means, we are incredibly excited and can’t wait to welcome our little bundle of joy into the world.
I shot up off the couch, my blanket falling to the floor. “What?”
Madison wasn’t pregnant—she was referring to my baby.
“Our little bundle of joy?” I screamed to my empty apartment.
I started pacing. In my anger I was seeing spots before my eyes. How dare Madison announce this to the world in this way, implying that this was their baby, and she its mother?
Nontraditional means? She’s making it sound like I’m their surrogate! I felt a tiny kick in my belly, as though the baby was just as upset as I was.
I dialed Max’s number; this couldn’t wait any longer.
Between the bachelorette night, the anonymous texts, and this social media post, it was high time we had a serious talk about Madison.
My chest heaved as I breathed hard, trying to fight off tears.
His voicemail picked up. “Max—please call me as soon as you get this. We need to talk.”
I paced around my living room for what felt like hours, waiting for him to call me back, but the phone never rang.
My apartment was hot—the nearly hundred-year-old building I lived in did not have air conditioning, so I was reduced to an open window and strategically placed fans to try and combat the June heat wave we were having.
I had to get out of here. Maybe a long walk would calm me down and tire me out, so I’d be able to get at least a little sleep that night.
Despite how tired I’d been just a little while ago, my new furious energy seemed boundless.
I made the three-block loop around my apartment building in just minutes, but I wasn’t ready to go back inside yet.
I started a second loop. Two turned into three.
After loop number four I decided I should probably go back inside.
Maybe some hot tea would help calm me down. God, how I miss alcohol.
As I turned the corner onto my street, I saw a dark figure dressed all in black with the hood of their sweatshirt up, standing on my building’s front steps.
Their back was to me as they looked down at their phone.
As I got closer, the figure heard me approaching from behind and turned around for a split second.
The stranger’s eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, but it appeared to be a youngish woman.
She shoved her hands in her pockets, then abruptly walked off down the street.
I stared after her uneasily. Who was that?
I didn’t get a great look at her face, thanks to the dark glasses and all the shadows, but I was fairly sure it wasn’t Madison, and I knew all my neighbors—it didn’t look like anyone who lived in my building.
In fact, it looked like the woman I’d seen standing across the street the night I went maternity clothes shopping with Ellie.
I hurried up the stairs and back into my building, suddenly eager to be locked in for the night. My phone started chiming as soon as I made it inside.
Oh God. It was the anonymous number again, and this time, there was a picture.
Max stood behind Madison with his arms around her, smiling at the camera, while Madison smiled up at him. As I gazed at the image, another text popped in: Mommy and Daddy and Baby make three. The perfect family.
I threw my phone on the couch in frustration. Tea—I needed tea. Something to help get my heart rate down again. You don’t want to stress the baby.
My phone chimed again. Ignore it, I told myself. But what if it was Mom? Or Ellie? Or Max, finally getting back to me?
Nope. It was another photo—this one of me, moments earlier, walking my neighborhood with my hands in my pockets, looking down at the ground. Another message followed: Poor Savannah. You’re all alone.
Tears pricked my eyes. I cursed in frustration. How was I supposed to deal with this harassment? Obviously, I’d been followed on my walk. By whom? The woman in black I’d seen outside the building?
Should I report this to the police? But what was the crime exactly?
Then Anonymous decided to send me to bed with one last text for the night.
And it’s going to stay that way.