Chapter 16 #2
I didn’t, since I’d gotten the impression she was happy about the whole thing, and because she was clearly younger than twenty-six, but since something about her expression put me at ease, I nodded.
Her smile stretched wider, and she extended her hand. “I’m Bette.”
“Ara,” I said, taking the offered hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ara.” Bette tilted her head. “Do you live downtown, by any chance? I only ask because you took cover in the store, making me think you were on foot when the storm swept in.”
“I do. Above one of the restaurants, actually.”
Her smile brightened. “How lovely! I do, too. Live downtown, I mean.” She gave a slight roll of her eyes. “We’ll have to meet for lunch sometime.”
“Yeah,” I replied automatically, not even sure if I was being genuine or just placating her.
“We need to get food so we can start, ladies!” Destiny called.
Bette rolled her eyes again, but her kind expression didn’t change. “She’s a stickler for the schedule.” She waved toward the table. “Come on.”
I followed Bette, surprised to discover that nearly everyone else had already filled their plates and had headed back to the waiting room.
Bottles of sparkling grape juice had been opened, and two were already empty, and Destiny stood anxiously at the end of the table, the smile still on her face even though it didn’t mask her impatience.
Bette took a plate, handed it to me, then grabbed one for herself, and I followed her down the line.
In the first pan, prime rib swam in brown gravy, and mashed potatoes were in the one next to it.
There were baked sweet potatoes, too, and green beans with bacon, and rolls and even a couple pies for dessert, and it all looked and smelled absolutely mouthwatering.
“It’s so much food,” I said, awed by the sight.
I did okay financially – although I wasn’t as well off as Trevor – but even I didn’t eat like this except a couple times a year. Yet this was a government funded support group and there was easily enough food for twenty people even though there were only seven of us. It was so strange.
“The leftovers go to a shelter,” Bette said as she scooped up a tiny piece of prime rib.
“Shouldn’t you get a little more, Mrs. Billings?” Destiny asked. “This food is meant to keep you ladies strong. Remember that.”
“I ate not that long ago,” Bette replied, rubbing her belly with her free hand while giving the group leader a sweet smile. “I couldn’t wait.”
Pacified, Destiny returned her smile. “I understand, but you need to remember that the baby’s health should be your priority, not your comfort.”
Bette’s blue eyes flashed, but her irritation was gone almost as fast as it had appeared. “I understand. But I had a very nice lunch before that. I promise.”
I looked from her to Destiny, my mind whirling as I took in the exchange.
It was so strange. Like a mother admonishing a child, not a counselor talking to a patient whose mental well-being she was supposed to be in charge of.
It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense considering where I was. The Department of Fertility.
Bette put small servings of mashed potatoes and green beans on her plate, then took a roll.
I did the same, although helping myself to much bigger portions and taking a sweet potato.
I slathered it with butter, watching Destiny watch me out of the corner of my eye and half expecting her to reprimand me.
Thankfully, she remained quiet even when I spread nearly half a tablespoon of butter on my roll.
Plate in hand, I collected a plastic flute of sparkling grape juice before following Bette to the waiting area where the other women were already digging in.
They were quiet, their attention on their plates and their bodies stiff like they were waiting for an attack.
Was that what I should expect as well? Probably.
If Destiny’s behavior so far told me anything, it was that she wasn’t here to help me or anyone else adjust to this program or even to give us support.
She was here to continue the propaganda, to keep an eye on us, and to report any problems. Destiny was not a friend.
Bette took a seat on the couch, waving eagerly for me to join her.
I did, looking around as I settled onto the overly soft surface.
It was the only piece of furniture in the room that had enough space for two, and it didn’t escape my notice that the other women had opted for the hard folding chairs rather than risk having to share the space.
And that they’d all positioned themselves as far away from Destiny as possible.
The group leader had taken her place in one of the overstuffed chairs, balancing her full plate on her knees, her smile bright as she looked around the room.
The other women were all intent on their food, their postures as stiff as the folding chairs, their heads down to make it clear they didn’t want to be addressed.
Everyone except Bette, that was. She smiled and shrugged as if to indicate the mood didn’t bother her, then started eating.
I did as well, cutting off a big chunk of prime rib and dipping it in mashed potatoes and gravy before shoving it in my mouth. It was cooked to perfection, tender and juicy, and was so delicious it instantly distracted me from the tense atmosphere.
For a few minutes, the clinking of flatware against plates was the only sound in the room.
It was almost relaxing, but I told myself not to let my guard down.
This wasn’t a social outing, and these people – Destiny, especially – weren’t my friends.
This was a government mandated support group and everything I said and did was being observed.
Hell, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the session was being recorded.
My plate was still half full when Destiny gave a little clap of her hands.
“I know everyone is still eating, but since our time is limited, I think we should get started.” She paused like she was hoping for a response, then went on when she got none.
“Since it’s Ara’s first meeting, I’m going to lead the conversation more than usual.
I also want everyone to introduce themselves and give a little background about your time in the program. Okay?”
Destiny’s chipper statement was met with silence, which didn’t faze her in the least.
She gave an enthusiastic nod, then turned her attention to the pregnant woman sitting to her right. “Lilly, why don’t you get us started?”
The woman, who I would have guessed was a couple years younger than me if it wasn’t for the fact that she was here, looked up from her plate mid-chew, her large, blue eyes darting from Destiny to me.
She was petite, making her round stomach seem almost clownish, and her pixie cut blonde hair made her look young while her wide eyes gave her an almost angelic appearance.
When she’d swallowed, she pressed her lips together for a beat before saying, “Yeah, so, um, I’m Lilly.
Like Destiny said. I’m seven months pregnant and have been in the program for a little over a year.
I got lucky and only had to do two rounds before conceiving, so that’s good.
I definitely won’t be doing any more rounds when this over,” she absentmindedly ran her hand over her stomach, “and I’m looking forward to it being over. ”
“Let’s keep it positive,” Destiny said in a tone that reminded me of a mother chiding a naughty child.
Lilly rolled her eyes and went back to eating.
Destiny shifted her focus to her next victim. “Malika, what can you tell Ara about yourself?”
The black woman’s head jerked up, her eyes narrowing on Destiny as she slowly chewed her food.
It seemed to take forever for her to swallow, and the way she held the group leader’s gaze the whole time made it clear she was doing it on purpose.
It made me instantly like her, and I had to hide my smile by shoving a big chunk of roll into my mouth.
When she decided she’d dragged it out long enough, Malika rolled her eyes, and said, “Well, you already told her my name, so that’s out of the way.
The rest isn’t about me exactly, just this program, but here goes.
I’m going on two years of forced service to the government, am not currently pregnant, and have had one miscarriage.
And you better believe I’m counting down the days until I have my life back. ”
Malika smiled and crossed her arms, her brows raised in defiance when Destiny frowned.
“Please, ladies,” the group leader said in a less cordial tone than she’d used before, “if we can remember to keep this positive, we’ll all benefit from our time together.”
“Positive?” Malika snorted. “There’s nothing positive about this situation, lady, and no matter what you or anyone else says, you’re not going to trick me into thinking there is.”
“You forget that I’ve been in your shoes,” Destiny said.
“Not my shoes.” Malika raised her brows when she eyed Destiny. “You volunteered, which is all well and good for you, but you better fucking believe I didn’t. And I wouldn’t have. This is my body, and no one should have a right to it. You hear me?”
I wanted to applaud.
Destiny narrowed her eyes on Malika for a few seconds longer as if trying to decide how to respond, before finally blowing out a breath and shifting her attention to the next woman. When she did, Malika let out a satisfied snort and went back to her meal.
“I know Ivy can add some positivity to the discussion.” Destiny said, her expression softening as she addressed the Asian girl.
Ivy shifted uncomfortably, her hands tightening on her knife and fork until the skin on her knuckles stretched taut. “Um, I’m Ivy. I’m nineteen, and I’ve been in the program for about nine months. I’ve had two inseminations, which weren’t successful, and should have my third one soon.”
Nineteen? She was so young, which was crazy. Why was she here?