Page 21 of Billionaire Hunt

“Lacey,” I said concerned, “do you need to get away for a little bit?”

“Yes,” she said pitifully.

“I’ll be right there---”

“No! I’ll come to you. Where are you?”

“At Grandma’s old condo.”

“Okay. I’ll get dressed and head out there. I love driving now. It makes me feel in control...and it’s like the only control I have left. I’ll pick you up in like a half hour and we’ll figure out fun stuff to do then. Sound like a deal?”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you soon.”

We both hung up and I finally thought about how difficult pregnancy must be for my friend. We had been teaching assistants together and while I had enjoyed the kids, I hated the administrative part. Lacey, on the other hand, hated the unpredictability of being around children. She liked controlled environments and preferably she liked to be the one in control.

Not having any control over her body and feeling overwhelmed because of it must be weighing on her, I thought to myself.

Soon enough, she was at my grandma’s soon to be ex-condo. I raced down the stairs and hopped in the car with her. As she maneuvered into traffic, I glanced surreptitiously at her. She was still barely showing, but her hair was disordered and her clothes were an odd mix of striped jeans and a tie-dye top that I recognized from an event we went to in college.

“Are you wearing your shirt from that environmental group we were in back in college?”

“Yeah,” she said shortly. “Why? Is it wrong to care about the environment after college?”

I held up my hands. “Hey, it was just a question because I recognized the shirt and hadn’t seen it in years. Please don’t yell at me.”

She sighed and to my dismay abruptly crossed two lanes of traffic without signaling, swung the car to the side of the road and pulled over. Cars honked at us and I swear a couple of people gave us the finger.

I was holding onto the dashboard for dear life even though I had on a seatbelt.

“What--” was all I managed to get out before Lacey put her head on the horn and just sobbed, not caring that the pressure of her head made the horn go off incessantly.

I gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Lacey,” I said between the sound of the horn and Lacey’s sobs. I knew before she even said a word what was going on in her head. I knew Lacey well enough to know she was torturing herself over a situation she couldn’t possibly control. “It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you.”

Finally, she was able to stop crying and she pulled her head off the steering wheel. Thank god, I thought to myself. I had felt a headache coming on from the constant blaring of the horn.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked, her voice sounded funny from all the crying. “I’m just upset. I hate crying all the time. Do I look ugly? I’ve always been an ugly crier.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Everyone’s ugly when they cry.”

“Not true. I bet Heidi Klum is a beautiful crier.”

I thought about that for a second and then said, “Yep, you’re probably right.”

Lacey laughed abruptly. “Oh my god, I’m a mess and I’m going to bring a child into this world. This is crazy.” She then turned and looked me in the eye. She seemed so fragile, so young. I think it was because she wasn’t wearing makeup and her face was freshly scrubbed. “I’m scared.”

Lacey? Scared? Lacey was the go-getter, the bossy one, the one who always took life by the horns. That Lacey was scared? I understood why she was scared, but I couldn’t believe she admitted it.

“I haven’t told Emmaline because she’s so brave and I feel ridiculous being afraid of being a mom when she was so young when she had Dora and she had nothing. I’m married to a billionaire for goodness sake and I’m 31 years old. I have no excuse to be afraid.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I think despite any mom’s circumstances, she’ll be afraid. At least a little...and you shouldn’t feel like that about talking to Emmaline. She’s your friend, she’ll probably be a better comfort to you than someone who has never been pregnant and has no intention of ever being pregnant.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t talk to her yet. I’m still too much of a mess.”

She sighed deeply before saying, “I was so excited the first few months, but then I started reading expecting mother forums and then my fear factor went from nearly zero to a bajillion.”

I couldn’t control a giggle. “Stay off the Internet and you’ll be fine.”

She nodded. “I know you’re right...but it’s not just that.” She seemed reluctant to continue and I frowned.