Page 148

“Thank you,” I said.
“I better not see you back here, unless that baby is being born.”
He said it so seriously that it made my stomach drop, but then he gave me a wink, which sent a flood of relief through me.
“Trust me, I don’t want to be back here,” I said.
“Have a good day, Ms. Heartly,” he said before slipping out the door.
An hour later, Monica and I were in a cab back to my apartment. I told her she should go home, but she again insisted she stayed.
“I have my laptop. I’m good. I can write from anywhere.” She drummed her fingers on her laptop case and gave me a reassuring smile.
“Thank you. I don’t think I’ve said it enough.”
“You’ve said it plenty. I’m your best friend and I know you would do the same for me.”
I nodded and rested my head on her shoulder as the cab weaved in and out of the morning traffic of the city. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, we were out front of my apartment. I lifted my head groggily as Monica paid the driver.
“You really were tired,” she said, opening the door and stepping outside.
She offered me her hand and pulled me out of the cab with a grunt. I gave her a grin as I hoisted myself out of the seat.
“I can’t imagine getting much bigger than this,” I said, rubbing my belly.
“You have two more months, missy.” She raised a brow and led me to the door of my building.
Once we were up in my loft, I collapsed slowly onto the bed. Exhaustion hit me hard. Hunger too. My stomach grumbled loudly.
“How about I whip up some pancakes?” asked Monica.
“That would be great.”
She nodded and started opening cabinets in the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and whisk and pancake mix. I watched as she moved around the small kitchen, feeling so grateful for her. Fifteen minutes later, she brought over a steaming plate stacked high with four buttermilk pancakes drizzled with syrup. My mouth watered just looking at it.
I eagerly took a bite.
“Thank you,” I said as the sweetness danced on my tastebuds.
“Of course,” said Monica, sitting beside me. “Look, I think I’m going to move in sooner than later.”
I looked at her, confused. We had agreed she would move in after the baby was born to help out and ease the rent. I already felt like enough of a burden to her. I couldn’t let her do more for me.
“Monica,” I said, my voice thick with emotion or syrup. I wasn’t sure.
“You need someone here with you to make sure you and the baby are okay.”
“But…”
“No buts. I’ll gather some of my things today and slowly get the rest this week. We’re officially roomies.”
I laughed, but also felt tears forming in my eyes.
“Hey, hey,” she said, pulling me close. “Don’t cry. We’re in this together. Okay?”
I nodded and wiped a tear from my cheek.
“Now, I’m going to call your OB and see if she can squeeze you in today. ’Kay?”