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“Dallas?” From her throne, Mavis reached up for Eve’s hand.
“You need something? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m better than good. It’s just Tandy’s not here. I don’t know what could’ve happened. I tried her place, and her pocket ’link, but she’s not picking up. Maybe she went into labor, but I tried the birthing center, and she hasn’t checked in.”
“Maybe she forgot.”
“Just couldn’t. Last time I talked to her she was all about it. I’m kind of worried.”
“Don’t be.” A worried Mavis could turn on a dime into a blubbering Mavis. “Listen, she was pretty close to popping, right? Maybe she was just too tired or whatever. She turned off her ’links and took a nap. Try her again later.”
“Yeah, maybe. Sure, she’s fine. Just needed to rest. I hate that she’s missing it. It’s the ult party. Everything’s just frosty, and she was really looking forward to it.”
When Mavis started to water up, Eve crouched beside her. “Hey, don’t get upset. We’ll, um, we’ll put some cake away for her. And one of the favor things.”
“That’d be good. I’m never going to forget today, Dallas. Not if I live to be a zillion and five.”
“Just relax and enjoy. I’ve got to start the next round.”
Crazed game-playing females were slightly less scary than an emotionally wound-up, extremely knocked-up Mavis.
She got through the games, and with Peabody happily volunteering to deliver the booty, the party shifted to the present portion of the program.
Hoping to distance herself from the coos and squeals that broke out each time Mavis ripped at wrapping paper, Eve dropped into a chair across the room. Moments later, Mira joined her.
“Quite a celebration.”
“How do they stay so charged?” Eve wondered. “I was afraid I’d have to put on my riot gear.”
“Babies, particularly when they’re so wanted, bring unparalleled joy. And for us, for women—whether or not we choose to have them—we know we’re the only ones capable of bringing them into the world. We’re the power.” She patted Eve’s hand. “You’ve done a lovely thing for your friend.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull it off. Not sure I would have without Peabody cracking the whip. It’s been worth it.”
“Like sixteen hours of labor?” Mira said with a smile.
“Oh, God, why? Why do they revel in talking about all that? It’s creepy.”
“It’s the power, and the love. And each experience is unique, no matter how long the human race has propagated. It’s intimate and astonishing, and it binds us as women. One day, when you’re ready, you’ll know.”
“Seeing all this—and that birthing class I had to take—it’s pushed the idea—which is actually more of a concept—way, way down on my to-do list.”
“When you’re ready,” Mira repeated. “I like watching them. Women. The different sizes and shapes, the colors. The dynamics that form. Look at Louise and Nadine, sitting over there with their heads together. And Mavis’s friend Trina, huddled with those two women. Probably giving them hair and skin-care advice for during pregnancy. And Peabody, hauling gifts in her efficient way, so happy to be useful. Mavis on her throne—a charming concept, by the way—looking so healthy and vital.
“And here we sit, you and I. The observers.”
“A lot of it, for me, is like watching aliens. Still, not without it’s entertainment value,” Eve admitted. “Take that blonde over there, in the red dress. Her feet are killing her. But people complimented her shoes, and she claimed they were comfortable. Now she’s stuck. And the brunette—short, green skirt? She keeps wandering back to the food table. She takes this little sliver of cake each time. Hit it about a dozen times now. But she can’t just go and take a human-sized piece straight off. She tells herself the sliver doesn’t count.”
When Mira laughed, Eve relaxed into a game she knew how to play. “And Trina? First, let me thank God she’s been too busy to corner me about my hair. She’s soliciting clients—no point letting an opportunity like this go by. But at the same time, she’s rarely more than three feet away from Mavis. Watching out for her. Brought her a fizzy, some cake. Went with her every time Mavis made one of her countless trips out to pee.”
“She told me she had a new product that, quote, ‘Kicks the ass out of winter dryness.’ She even gave me a sample. Ah, Mavis is about to open Peabody’s gift. I can’t wait to see it.”
“She’s nervous. Peabody,” Eve added. “Standing there sweating, afraid Mavis won’t like it as much as she hoped. Giving gifts is torture.”
But when Mavis lifted the lid on the box, there was a stunned look on her face, followed by a collective gasp by those close enough to see the contents.
“Oh, Peabody!”
And the awed, almost reverent joy in Mavis’s voice told Eve her partner had hit the bull’s-eye.
