Page 31 of Just Like the Brontë Sisters

Chapter 18: Jo Beth

Pregnancy was a revelation to Jo Beth, because she suddenly had more than herself to think about. Abortion was never an option, not once she’d imagined the baby as a newer version of Skylar: a tiny little being whom Jo Beth would care for, and she’d do so without making all the bad mistakes she’d made before. This baby would be Jo Beth’s fresh start. Yet that didn’t automatically make everything all good with Mitch and Magda.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Mitch kept insisting. “I’m not into her. I love you.”

“Okay,” Jo Beth answered. “I feel bad about yelling at Magda. I guess I was just really hormonal.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Mitch said. “But maybe you should apologize.”

“Do you think she’d talk to me?” Jo Beth stilled her trembling chin, sniffed, and widened her eyes until they watered.

Mitch pulled her in for a hug. He’d just come in from outside and she could smell the fresh air on him. “I’m sure she’d talk to you.”

“But what if she won’t? Except for you, Magda is my only real friend on this entire continent. I need her on my side but I’m worried I’ve ruined things forever.”

After the big blowout, Magda had stopped coming up to Patillo and Mitch knew enough not to call her. Now Jo Beth needed him to believe that getting in touch was his idea.

“I’ll shoot her a text,” he said. “Maybe the three of us can have lunch next week, when we go down to Santiago for your pre-natal appointment.”

“Really? That would be so great. Thank you, Mitch.”

They met at Tiramisu, a popular lunch spot surrounded by trees. Magda ordered a salad, Mitch ordered a steak, and Jo Beth ordered a pizza, because the only food that didn’t make her feel like puking were carbs, carbs, and more carbs.

“So how far along are you?” Magda asked.

Mitch answered, his voice padded with pride. “Eight weeks.” His smile glowed even brighter than usual as he spoke. “The doctor said everything looks great: the beginnings of what should be a very healthy pregnancy.”

Magda’s grin seemed so fake that Jo Beth could almost taste the saccharine. “That’s great,” Magda said to Jo Beth. “But what about your moods?”

Her skin prickled at Magda’s question. “What about my moods?”

Magda stabbed a cherry tomato with the tine of her fork and bit into it, speaking as she chewed. “You can’t be on your anti-depressants while pregnant, can you?”

“There is some risk to the baby, so yeah, I’m staying off of them.”

“She’ll be fine.” Mitch reached over and squeezed Jo Beth’s shoulder.

Magda tilted her head to the side, an attempt to seem empathetic. “Mitch, I think you should be realistic. Pregnant women have more estrogen rushing through their body in one day than non-pregnant women do in an entire year. Add in going off her meds…”

“Okay, enough.” Jo Beth’s irritation had become a vise, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Yet she couldn’t succumb to acting out. Magda was just trying to rile her. “Magda, I appreciate your concern; really, I do. But this lunch was supposed to be about reconciliations and apologies.” Jo Beth placed her pizza crust on her plate and stared across the table at Magda. “I am so, so sorry for losing my shit that day. I mean, I understand why you’re worried after I acted so crazy, but all I can say is, now that I’m aware of my condition, it will be easier to control my emotions.”

“I hope so.”

“Will you forgive me?” Jo Beth asked.

Magda barely blinked those big, brown eyes. It was like she’d never once doubted that she deserved an apology. “Yes, of course I will, Jo Beth.”

Jo Beth flashed a relieved smile and reached underneath the table for the bottle she’d stowed in her bag. Luckily for her, in Chile, it’s completely cool to bring your own wine to restaurants. “Great. Because look what I brought!”

Magda’s face lit up when she saw it was her favorite type of Cabernet, way too expensive to drink very often.

“Babe, you shouldn’t have done that,” Mitch said. “Especially since you can’t have any of it.”

“Of course I can,” Jo Beth told him. “A little bit won’t hurt, and besides, we’re celebrating.”

Jo Beth got up and took the bottle to the bar, where she could pay for corkage and ask for glasses. After the bartender poured three glasses-worth, Jo Beth asked for a glass of water. When his back was turned, she took the little bag of powder from her bag, poured a little into two of the glasses, and dumped the rest of the bag into the bottle. “Would you like help carrying this back to the table?” the bartender asked as he handed her the water.

“No, no. You’re busy. I can handle it.” Jo Beth made two trips, making sure to swirl the wine with the powder as she walked. Hopefully it would dissolve without a hitch.