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She rubs my stomach and smiles at me. “Sidney, you’re going to make it. You’re one of the most resilient people I know, and I just know you’ll get past this just like you always do: one day at a time.”
I take a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ll figure it out.”
“And I’ll be right here to help you.”
“I really appreciate that, Michelle.”
“You’re welcome. Now can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Can we shut up and eat cake?”
I laugh and the mood lightens. “Sure.”
Friday comes all too quickly; before I know it, it is Friday night,, and I have moved into my new apartment. Michelle had helped me hang a few curtains the day before and had even gifted me one of her wall pieces. I hang it over my bed.
“That’s the last box, miss.”
“Thank you.” I tip the mover and wait for Michelle to come in with a package she had refused to let me see.
I close the door behind us and take a deep breath. I let it out with a squeal. It feels so good to be in a space to call my own again. I have lots of unpacking to do but that will have to wait until next week. I pull a set of sheets out of my backpack and Michelle helps me to make the bed. I excuse myself and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I get out, I see the lights off.
“Michelle?”
“Give me a sec.”
I hear her flick a switch and I hear music. Then I see it light up. Tears come to my eyes as I watch the soft light on the baby mobile change from one color to another.
“It’s beautiful, Michelle. You’re so gifted!”
“It’s the least I could do for my niece or nephew.”
“I love it!”
She turns off the mobile and turns on the lights. “I’m glad you do. I’m going to just put it back in the box right here, and when the time is right, it’ll be in its place.”’
We talk a little longer before Michelle heads home.
I lie looking, up at the ceiling as I stare into the darkness. Peace comes over me. I’m going to be okay.
I spend the rest of the week between job hunting and unpacking, pausing long enough to go over to Michelle’s on Christmas day. Then she comes over on boxing day to help me with some more unpacking. By New Year’s Eve, I have the apartment how I want it to be. Michelle and I ring in the year at a party thrown by one of her clients. We splurge on a taxi that night. She drops me off first and I wait patiently for her to call to let me know she is home safely. I pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth as the phone rings.
“Are you home, hon?”
“Happy New Year, bitch!” The noisy background almost drowns out the harsh tone.
My heart skips a beat and I choke on the chocolate. Grant!
“W-why are you calling me?”
“Did you have fun fucking my dad? Whore!”
“Leave me alone!”
“And now I hear you’re pregnant. Have fun getting that deadbeat jerk to pay attention to your kid. So, if you did it for the money, you’re on your own. I always knew you were a little tramp! You gold digger!”
Something inside me snaps. I’ve had enough of this conversation.
