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After a disastrous night at my parents’ house, I want nothing more than to flee back to Manhattan.
The following day, I wake up with what feels like a cold of some sort. My body aches, and my legs and arms are painfully sore. A lingering headache onset a wave of nausea, forcing me to rush to the bathroom repeatedly.
Mom begins to worry, rushing to my aid with medication safe to take during pregnancy and plain toast for me to try to eat. I manage to take a few bites, but it proves to be exhausting, and my eyelids barely stay open.
When I awake again, Mom is still on the bed beside me. When my eyes fall upon her, I hear another sound and slowly turn to see Dad on the other side. He moves closer to me, then places his palm on my forehead as he examines me with a worried expression.
It isn’t unusual for Dad to worry about our health, and given he studied medicine though never followed it through, he has enough knowledge to diagnose certain ailments.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, sitting beside me and next to Mom.
“Tired,” I yawn, then my stomach grumbles. “Hungry.”
Mom rubs my hand with a hopeful gaze. “How about some soup?”
I nod with a smile. “Sounds good, Mom.”
There’s a struggle to sit up, but I manage to do so as Mom leaves the room to fetch the soup. Then, with my father beside me, I glance at him, looking for answers.
“What’s wrong with me? I’m not losing the baby, am I?”
“Ava, no,” he reassures me. “You’re under a lot of stress and very run down. It makes you more susceptible to the common cold.”
“Dealing with this privately has been difficult. Having to admit firstly to myself that this was happening, to having to tell Austin. Then coming here to tell you and Mom, and of course…” I trail off, unable to say her name.
Dad tips his head back, staring at the ceiling. I know this isn’t easy for him, and I hate myself for putting him through this. “Dad, I’m s—”
“No, Ava. Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. There is a baby inside of you, a human being who will grace us with his or her presence in a few short months. I know the circumstances are far from ideal, but I cannot stress enough that I need you to take care of yourself and this baby. You understand me?”
I answer with a slight nod.
Mom returns with soup, water, and some crackers. We talk with Dad for a short while in which I tell them my desire to go back home tomorrow, mainly because I need to work. They keep their opinions at bay, but I can see the worry over my well-being in their expressions.
“Ava, have you considered moving back to LA?” Dad asks, then continues, “It would make sense to have us close to you to help with the baby.”
“Honestly, Dad? It crossed my mind for a fleeting moment. But my life is in Manhattan, and so is Austin.”
Mom is unusually quiet, not putting her two cents in. When it comes to babies, she has baby fever. I’m surprised she isn’t agreeing with Dad and making it heard.
“Well, if you must fly out tomorrow, I insist you take the private jet.”
I smile, relaxing my shoulders. “If you insist, Father.”
My parents leave me to get some rest, noting I look and sound better. I still don’t want to get out of bed, so I grab my phone and text Austin.
Me: It went as expected with my parents. As for Millie, let’s say she is not talking to me.
Austin: Talk about timing. I just finished my shift. That bad?
Me: That bad. I’m pretty sure somewhere during her raging fit, she called me a whore.
Austin: You’re not a whore, Ava.
Me: Right? Because a whore sleeps around, and the last time I checked, I’ve been revirginized.
Austin: I heard that’s called cobwebs.
Me: Have you been hanging out with Eric?
