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I look up as she waddles into the cafe and over to the table where I’m sitting. She huffs as she struggles to get herself comfortable in a small wooden chair that was obviously designed without pregnant women in mind.
Aside from Becca, Matt and Annie are probably my closest friends. It’s kind of funny we’re so close, considering we’re complete opposites. Matt is the guy who knows and loves everyone—the guy everybody wants to spend time with. Growing up, being his sister was hard because everyone assumed that I was like that too.
Instead, I was the shy, awkward girl who buried her nose in books to avoid making eye contact with people. I put myself under so much pressure trying to live up to his reputation and what people expected of me. It didn’t help that I was missing weeks and weeks of school at a time. I think I was away more of eighth grade than I was there, because of a condition I had that meant my body produced painful, large uterine cysts. I would have gone crazy if it weren’t for Matt and Becca keeping me company.
When I was fourteen, one of those cysts burst, which very nearly killed me. After two weeks in intensive care and two major surgeries, I ended up with no uterus, no ovaries, and no chance of ever having my own children. At the time, it didn’t really hit me what that meant because having children was so far off my radar, but now it’s beginning to sink in.
I turn my attention back to Annie, sympathizing as she winces and struggles out of her jacket and tries to stuff it behind her back for support. I take mine off, too, and hand it to her, which she gratefully stuffs behind her back. She sighs with relief. I suppose everything is difficult when you’re nearly nine months pregnant.
“Get this fucking thing out of me,” Annie exclaims in her proper English accent. I chuckle to myself because I’ll never get sick of listening to her curse. “I cannot think of one tiny little thing that I enjoy about being pregnant,” she adds. Then her eyes grow wide, and she claps her hand over her mouth. “Gosh, I’m sorry. That was completely insensitive of me, wasn’t it?” She shakes her head and waves at herself. “Just ignore the daft pregnant woman over here.”
“Seriously, you and Matt need to stop acting like you’re going to upset me with every little comment,” I say, laughing. “Let me enjoy this with you guys.”
It’s been like this since the day they told me she was pregnant. After three weeks of severe, constant morning sickness, Annie had jokingly asked me if I wanted it when it came out. Matt had glared at her, and the two of them got into a shouting match, while Annie profusely apologized and I tried to convince them I was fine.
I just wish I could make them see how resilient I am, and that just because I can’t have kids, I’m not going to fall apart at the mention of a baby. I’m best friends with Becca, for God’s sake. She’s the queen of offending people. If I can handle her, I can handle anything. Though to be fair, I think being friends with Becca has significantly decreased my ability to be offended.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Matt wanted me to ask you over for dinner tonight.” She stabs a tomato off her plate and pops it in her mouth, her lack of eye contact only mildly concerning me. “We’re having a dinner party and one of my friends—Raina—can’t come.”
“Sure,” I say. “So long as this isn’t another attempt to try and set me up,” I add, my suspicions stirring. I hold up my hand when she starts to protest her innocence. “It’s fine, I’ll come. Oh shit.” I’d already made plans with Becca. “I forgot. Becs and I are going to see a movie.”
“Can you get out of it? Matt’s already arranged the menu, and it will just look odd if we’re one person short,” she pleads with me.
I grin because she really takes her dinner parties seriously.
“Okay, I’ll text her and see if we can make it tomorrow night. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I pull out my phone to message her before I forget. “Am I excepted to dress up?”
She frowns at me. “If I say no, is there a chance you’re going to turn up wearing that hideous snoopy shirt that should’ve been thrown out years ago?”
“One time,” I say, laughing. “And only because you failed to mention the part where you’d invited a guy to our weekly pizza and slouch on the couch night.”
“Yes, well, I was only trying to help.” She sniffs. “Lord knows you need all the assistance you can get when it comes to finding a man.”
