Page 69 of Ruin The Friendship
This is the last chance I have for her to try to be a part of my pregnancy, of this part of my life, hits me. I know it’s futile, but I want to try anyway.
“I know it would be hard to host it here, but I want you to be a part of this. Will you please come here? I can give you Grace and Zoey’s numbers. I’m sure they’d be happy to have you help.”
There’s a long beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Yes. Give me their numbers.”
A breath of relief escapes my lungs. “I will. Thank you. I’m excited for you to be a part of this.”
Really, I am. I want my mom to be happy for me, to be happy for me, and to be part of my child’s life. If this is the first step, I’m ready to take it.
“Yes, well, we’ll see,” she says hesitantly. “I should go. Send me their numbers so we can coordinate.”
“I will, I love you,” I say, hoping that she says it back.
“Mmm, yes. You too. Goodbye.” She hangs up the phone before I can speak another word.
After the call ends, I’m left feeling conflicted, confused, nervous, and honestly a little steamrolled.
Was I guilted into that? The last five minutes are a blur. I set down my phone, slumping back into the couch. Thankfully, Fletcher will be home soon.
I didn’t even get the opportunity to tell my mom we’re dating.
A shakingon my shoulder pulls me out of a deep sleep.
“Lydi,” a familiar voice says.
My eyes flutter open to meet the green ones that take up residence in all my dreams.
“Hey,” I mumble, my voice scratchy from sleep.
“I brought you ice cream.” Fletcher looks a little anxious for some reason. His brow is furrowed, deep lines marring his forehead.
“What’s wrong?” I sit up on the couch.
Must have fallen asleep after the phone call with mymother. I was a bit overwhelmed, and resting on the couch felt like one of the only options to keep me from going overboard.
“Nothing,” he rushes to say. “I didn’t want to wake you up. I’ve heard to never wake a pregnant person, but I didn’t want your ice cream to melt.”
I quirk my eyebrow, stifling a giggle. “I think the saying is to never wake a sleeping baby, not a pregnant person, but thank you.” I scoot back, pulling my blanket over my lap. I hold out my hand, making a grabbing motion with my finger. “Gimme.”
Fletcher laughs, then hands me the pint of double brownie chocolate ice cream. He passes me the spoon and sits on the couch next to me.
“Santa came early,” I say, gesturing to the ice cream. “Thank you, Santa.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Claus.” He laughs again, leaning over and kissing my temple.
I scoop a hearty spoonful out and shovel it into my mouth. When the burst of chocolate lands on my tongue, I groan. “So good. How did you know I needed this?”
“Hunch. Gimme a bite.” Fletcher opens his mouth.
I offer him a spoonful of the ice cream. “My mom called me today.”
I take another bite, so my mouth is full.
Fletcher doesn’t say anything at first, just rubs my shoulder. “What did she say?”
“The whole conversation was a bit of a blur.”
I tell him about the call, leaving no details out, and explain that she wanted to take over the baby shower.
