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“You don’t want to?”
“Not sure. I don’t like change. I’m not as confident after the accident. I like being in my own place and I’m not big on crowds.”
“Sounds like you have some decisions to make,” I say and squeeze her hand.
“And I’ll cross the bridge when I come to it. Tom might change his mind.” Tara frowns at me shifting around on the chair in an attempt to find a comfortable position. “You okay?”
“These seats are hard,” I grumble. “And I’m fed up with madam kicking my bladder all day.”
“Nearly there, then you’ll have the joy of sleepless nights.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” I whisper. “I wish she’d come early. It’ll kill me if she’s late.”
“Yes, you’re pretty big.”
“Charming!” I pout.
“Any news for me about names?” Tara straightens expectantly.
“Nope.” I tighten my mouth. “Stalemate. We have a few lined up, and I think when we see her, one will fit. Does that make sense?”
“I guess. So, names like...?” She looks at me over her coffee cup.
“Not telling.” Tara scowls. “Sorry.” The baby kicks as if she knows we’re talking about her, and I grimace.
“Pain? You’ve been pulling faces a lot today, Sky.”
“No more than usual.” Well, a few more than usual, but nothing I’d panic about. Not a word to Dylan though, who has the hospital on speed dial and moved us back into the London apartment. Not to mention the constant texts and calls since he arrived in France. “Nothing close to regular contractions. Don’t fuss. You’re as bad as Dylan.”
“When’s Dylan back?”
“Monday. He won’t stay away longer than a couple of days.”
Tara sighs and places her hand across her heart. “I think I swoon over him more now than when I fantasised about the bad boy Dylan.”
“Tara!” I smack the back of her hand. “It’s not appropriate to tell your best friend you fantasised about her husband.”
“Pfft. He’s a person to me now. Before he was some hot guy with his shirt off a lot. Now he’s... Dylan.”
I can’t help but laugh at the situation. “Objectifying my husband!”
If anybody else had said these things to me, I’d be pissed off, but this is Tara, telling things how they are. I had my own fantasies about actors when growing up; I suppose if by any miracle Tara had met and married one of them, I’d tell her the same.
I live in a weird world.
