Page 154 of Diego

“For now.”

Donna lifts her tea. “I’m only saying you might want options before you desperately need them.”

That is annoyingly sensible, so I do not argue. Instead, I get up and wander toward the rack nearest me, mostly out of curiosity. The clothes are better than I expected. Soft fabrics, fitted shapes, hidden stretch panels, dresses that look like normal expensive dresses. I guess being pregnant doesn't mean that you have to give up all sense of style.

Then I see a price tag.

I nearly choke. “Absolutely not.”

Julia looks over. “What?”

I hold up the tag.

She looks at it, then at me. “It’s nice.”

“It's obscene!”

Donna does not even bother looking. “Try it on.”

“I would have to forfeit groceries for the whole month.” I drop the tag. “And then I wouldn't even need the dress. Problem solved.”

Julia immediately takes the dress off the rack and drapes it over my arm. “Try it on.”

“I said no.”

“You said it was expensive.”

“That was the reason for the no,” I explain. “I'm beginning to think you two don't actually know what that word means. I don't think anyone with the last name Conti does, in fact.”

Donna and Julia share a look. “We do find that word a little hard to process in our family,” Donna says. “Now try it on.”

“I am not buying a dress that costs this much.”

Donna gestures toward the fitting room. “Nobody asked you to buy it.”

I look between them suspiciously. “This feels like a trap.”

“Put it on, or we'll make you,” Julia says.

I size them up and then look at Donna with her big belly.

“Oh, I could still take you. Don't doubt it,” Donna says.

I am still unconvinced, but I carry the dress into the fitting room because, apparently, I have lost all control over my life.

The first dress fits normally because I do not have anything resembling a pregnancy bump yet, but the fabric is softer than anything I own, and the cut clearly leaves room for a growing belly. I turn sideways in the mirror and study myself for a moment before feeling slightly ridiculous for doing it.

There is no visible change yet, but lately that fact feels less reassuring than it once did.

I step out before I can get stuck in my own head, and Julia looks up first. “That one.”

Donna nods. “Definitely.”

“I told you I am not paying that much for a dress.”

Julia crosses one leg over the other. “You like it.”

“Not relevant.”