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“Partly. I have two people in my Birthing From Within class who are getting close to delivery, and I want to check in on them.” Her purse buzzed again, but after a quick glance in it, Julia lasered back in on Naomie’s abdomen. “So, no problems?”
“Not really. I’ve been having trouble sleeping and I could do without the hot flashes, but I’m just glad I’m not getting morning sickness anymore. You were right, the prenatal exercise class is helping,” Naomie said. “Thanks for talking me into it.”
“You need to set a good example for the clients.” Julia glanced around the room again.
“True.” Naomie laughed.
Julia’s posture relaxed slightly as Madison reappeared and wove her way through the tables. All the women in the exercise class were lovely, but from the moment Naomie met Madison they’d had a special connection. Naomie had always longed for a younger sister, and at nearly a decade younger than Naomie, Madison slipped right into that space. Probably because Madison had a slightly lost quality to her that resonated with Naomie’s maternal instincts—instincts she’d had since cradling her first Do-It-All Dolly, and that were currently in hormonal overdrive searching for an outlet.
Naomie stood and carefully hugged her around both their bumps. “I haven’t had a real chance to say hi yet today.”
Madison’s round cheeks flushed, and her eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m so sorry I was late to session. I, um, had to run an errand right before.” She hung her jacket over the back of her chair and eased herself down.
“No need to apologize.” Naomie smiled. “I hope all is well.”
Madison shot a glance at Julia. “I don’t want you to think I’m not taking it seriously. I know the spots for people who can’t afford to pay are limited.”
Naomie waved her off. “How you ever make it on time between your day job and night classes and taking care of your mother I’ll never know.”
Madison smiled her gratitude, then her brows popped up. “Oh, I got your email. You said you needed to talk to me?”
“You. Guys. I amso sorry.” Chelsea Whitens appeared at the table breathless and hurricane-frenetic, messy blonde bangs bouncing around her face and hot-pink tunic flapping as she navigated her swollen abdomen under the table. “I got caught up talking to the others after class and theywould not stoptalking about breast pumps. I’m in such deep denial about breast pumps I can’t even tell you. So horrifying—just keep that whole topicfaraway from me.”
Naomie smiled indulgently. If Madison was like a little sister to her, Chelsea was like a sorority sister. Ironic, given they were fairly different. Chelsea was petite and blonde to Naomie’s tall and auburn, and had cheerleading and Insta-obsessed energy rather than Naomie’s more quiet career focus. And while Naomie was happily married, Chelsea was single, her pregnancy an accident from a boyfriend who turned out to have a wife and children. But Chelsea was only a year younger than Naomie, and they instinctively understood the core of each other’s Ivy League, wealthy-family backgrounds.
“You can’t put off getting your breast pump much longer,” Julia said, expression pointed.
Chelsea scrunched her nose and laughed. “I havethree whole weeksbefore my due date. Plenty of time, Miss Teacher.”
A shadow passed over Madison’s face. “I don’t know how you do it, Chels. I wake up in a panic every day about being a single mother, but you’re so confident and effortless. Too bad you can’t lay hands on me or something and transfer some of that calm.”
Chelsea reached over and squeezed her hand. “Oh, stop. I’ve just had two more months to prepare for it, that’s all.”
Both Madison’s and Chelsea’s faces flickered. Naomie understood Madison’s expression: Chelsea hadn’t had all that much more time, but she definitely had more money. And no matter what people tried to claim, money bought a fair amount of peace. But Chelsea’s reaction confused her—for a reason she didn’t understand, it felt disingenuous.
Julia’s purse buzzed again. As she checked it, she gestured the waitress over. “Should we order?”
“I’d like the Caribbean Craze smoothie with extra coconut and a vitamin boost, please,” Chelsea said when the waitress arrived.
“I’m in full fall mode, so I’ll take the Cranberry Pumpkin, also with the vitamin boost,” Madison said when the waitress’s gaze shifted to her.
“We’re so predictable.” Julia laughed but her jaw tightened, and after she ordered she glanced at her watch again.
Surely Julia couldn’t be annoyed just because Naomie hadn’t wanted to order for the others ahead of time? No, something odd must be happening with her clients for her to be this on edge. But she wouldn’t respond well if Naomie pressed her about it in front of the others, no matter how close their group was becoming.
“But seriously, though, Chels,” Madison said once the waitress gathered up the menus. “At the risk of getting gooshy, I admire you. When you found out David was married, you didn’t hesitate, you just kicked him to the curb. That couldn’t have been easy.”
Chelsea beamed. “I’m a firm believer that you have to know what you deserve in life, anddemandit.” She punctuated the point with a bubblegum-pink acrylic nail. “You can’t spend your life with someone that doesn’t make you happy. That’s not good for youoryour child.”
Julia cleared her throat. “Speaking of which. Pete and I are getting a divorce.”
Naomie’s gaze dropped to the table. She’d known there were problems, but had respected Julia’s privacy by keeping quiet. And, if she were honest with herself, because she’d been hoping Julia and Uncle Pete would work out their issues.
“You’re sure?” Madison asked.
“He filed last week.” Julia stared toward the open kitchen where various fruits were blending into liquid oblivion.
“Damn,” Chelsea said. “I’m sorry.”
