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Olivia laughed. “If any Boston society crone so much looks in your direction the wrong way, they’ll have to deal with me.”
“Are you sure?” Becca asked.
Olivia nodded. “I’m the disgraced daughter of a real estate magnate. Nothing they can say will hurt me. I’ve got comebacks for days, and a friend who works the local news beat for the Globe; I’ll make sure she blocks any mention of your names. I’ll tell her to tell her boss that any tips about you are false and that people are trying to slander your names, so the Dover Mall fails because local businesses in Boston are bitter that they didn’t get a storefront.”
My jaw dropped. Olivia was a complete genius. I should have known she would have my back. That’s what we did. When Liv left, I threatened to knock the teeth out of any of my father’s business associates who spoke ill of her.
“You’re brilliant!” I declared.
“I know,” Olivia grinned. “Now, would the two of you like to stay for dinner? Jack’s working an overnight, and I was going to make a stir fry, but it’ll be far too much food for one person.”
“Sure. Do you need any help?” Becca asked.
“Yeah, if you want,” Olivia said. Becca and Olivia got to work. Becca chopped up red peppers, spinach, and some broccoli. Olivia made some rice in her rice cooker, then added it to the pan with the veggies and some soy sauce. She peeked into the refrigerator, “Success!” she declared unearthing an unopened container of edamame and some kale. We threw everything into a pan and seared it. I retrieved a pile of plates from the kitchen cabinets. Olivia scooped a heaping portion onto each plate. We settled into Olivia’s cozy and rustic breakfast nook, made up of long wooden benches decorated with soft pillows and a red Formica table. Becca scarfed down her portion eagerly, asking for seconds.
“Anything for you,” Olivia said, producing another scoop.
“That reminds me.” She sprang up and ran to the kitchen cabinet, taking out plastic bottles of supplements and medications until she found what she was looking for.
“These are for you. They’re prenatal vitamins.” She pressed an orange plastic bottle into Becca’s hand.
“Thank you so much!” Becca said.
“Take one every morning with food. Speaking of prenatal care, if you’re not comfortable with the idea of getting an OB in Boston, I can give you the name of my OB here. I’ll see if she has any openings next week,” Olivia added.
Becca ate a forkful of rice and paused. “Really, you’d do that for me?”
“It’s no problem at all. I know how overwhelming it is trying to find a doctor when you already feel gross. Plus, I love my OB. I want to make sure you and my niece or nephew get the best care.”
“Thanks so much, Liv,” I said. Olivia grinned back. That was the thing about siblings, I realized, though we’d tortured each other daily when we were children, and Olivia went as far as to actively try and embarrass me when I brought my first girlfriend home, yanking out a photo album of my baby photos; we had each other’s backs now.
Chapter 16
Becca
Oliviabookedmeanappointment with her OB on the following Monday.
By then, I’d fully replaced my morning birth control pill with a prenatal vitamin and resigned myself to the knowledge that most of my pants wouldn’t fit any time soon.
I stared at myself in the mirror before Sebastian and got ready for my appointment. He’d taken the morning off, and I was working the farmer’s market this weekend, so I didn’t have to work on Monday. I did look different.
My nipples were more prominent and darker. My breasts were still sensitive, so I’d switched from bras with underwires to loose barrettes made of soft materials. My midsection was noticeably starting to swell. Maybe it’s because I was hyperaware of it, but I could have sworn I saw a noticeable bump in the mirror when I turned to the side.
I slipped into a loose cotton sundress made of breathable cotton fabric. The late June heat was unrelenting, and while I chalked up everything that happened to my body nowadays to a pregnancy symptom, I could have sworn I was sweatier than usual. I was guzzling water like it was my job, which made me have to pee constantly. I thought that came later.
I swirled my hair into a messy bun on my head and yawned. I’d switched to decaf coffee, which didn’t help me on the energy front.
“Are you almost ready, Becca?” Sebastian called from the kitchen.
“Just about!” I said as I adjusted my ever-growing boobs spilling out of my top. I found them burdensome, but every time I walked into a room, Sebastian’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning. At least someone was having fun.
When I walked into the kitchen, Sebastian grinned as he presented me with what was supposed to be a breakfast burrito. The eggs spilled out of the partially folded tortilla. I noticed scorch marks in the pan on the stove. Since the news of my pregnancy, Sebastian had been trying to cook more. Unfortunately, the smell of the eggs made me gag.
His face fell. “I guess we can add eggs to the list,” he said. The list of foods I couldn’t tolerate grew by the day, despite my ravenous appetite. I grabbed a protein bar from the pantry and snagged a banana off the fruit bowl on the counter. I recently forced Sebastian to reconsider his kitchen. While the rest of the house was pristine, Sebastian's kitchen looked a little underdeveloped. He blamed it on his diet of takeout and army of private chefs. Why invest in a room he barely entered? He needed a new stove, for one thing, and a stand-mixer if I was going to live there.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, shoving my feet into a pair of sandals. “We should get going.”
I took a bite of the banana and hoped it would quell the nausea.
