Pretty Hurts (4 page)

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Guess I’ll see you in a week or so?”

“Definitely. Thanks again for tonight.”

“My pleasure,” I say as she unlocks her door and slips into the driver seat. I close the door behind her, pat the hood, and step away to watch her pull out of the parking space. A few hours with her is long enough to know I might be in trouble.

Chapter Three

Efia

“How are you doing?” Liv asks.

We’re enjoying a cup of coffee … well, tea for the mommy-to-be as we prepare to go out to shop for her upcoming baby reveal. I cup my warm mug and look out the window at the people walking by completely unaware that at any moment their body could choose to rebel against them. I take a moment to think before I answer.

“I’m good? I don’t know, it’s odd. I don’t quite feel like myself. It’s not a bad thing, just different.” I touch the white head wrap on my head. “I wonder if I’m hiding by wearing this, you know?”

“What? No. You wore them before.”

“I know. I still haven’t
come out
at work.”

“Who says you need to?” Liv says.

“Wasn’t that what going bald was for?” I shake my head. It’s harder than I thought it would be. I’m surrounded by people obsessed with looks. I worry about their response, though I wish I didn’t.

“No, that was for you to feel empowered. Whether you come out in the open with it or not is up to you. Don’t beat yourself up because you’re still processing what’s happening.”

I sigh. “Logically, I know what you’re saying is true, but mentally it’s hard to accept.”

“I get it. But I’m always here to help reinforce the truth and pull you outside of your bubble. The same way you do for me.”

“That’s what besties are for,” I say, feeling better for talking out the things on my mind. I take another sip and peer at her over the rim of the cup. “On another front, you’d be proud of me. I went out the other night after work.”

“Oh. With Angela?” she inquires, mentioning one of the make-up artists I often team up with for bigger events.

“No, with Edgar. My barber.”

“Houston’s friend?”

“Yes, have you met him?”

“A few times. He’s a really nice guy, but I thought he was in a long-term relationship with someone. She had an M name. Mariah? Maryanne? No.” Liv snaps her fingers. “Marilyn, that’s it.”

“They broke up some time ago apparently. But this was just a friend thing. The guy he had lined up to go had to bail when he got called out of town for work. He offered, and I knew I needed to get out of the house, so I said yes. We went to the Alamo Draft house. They were showing one of those old, cheesy horror movies and had a Q&A with the cast afterward. It was so much fun.”

“You do love your gory horror films.” Liv shudders. “I’m shocked you said yes. You’re usually slow to warm to people.”

“I have to admit, I feel a real connection with him. I think because he walked me through that first haircut, and he knows about my Alopecia and doesn’t treat me any different. Plus, you know him. He’s so laid back, funny, and interesting.”

“You got all that between a couple of haircuts and one night out?”

I shrug as heat creeps up into my face.

“Holy crap, you’re feeling him, aren’t you?”

“What? No.” I shake my head.

“Oh, bull, it’s written all over your lying face,” Liv says with exasperation.

I give a half laugh. “No. I could easily be into him, and that scares me. I mean, I’m a wreck. The last thing I need to do is get involved with someone right now.”

“Are you kidding me? You are so picky. If he’s registered on your radar, that’s huge.”

“I know, but the timing …”

Liv waves her hand. “Look at who you’re talking to. Do you remember the train wreck my life has been for the past year?”

I protest, “That’s different.”

“Why?” Liv challenges me. When she crosses her arms beneath her breasts, I know I’m in for it.

“Because there were outside sources.”

Reaching across the table, Liv grabs my hand. “So is this. Don’t let the bad in your life prevent you from seeing the good. Maybe he’s not the one. But what if he is? Don’t rule anything out.”

“I won’t.”

She purses her lips as she studies me.

“I promise.”

“Good. Now I hope you’re ready to shop because I can’t fit in most of my clothes anymore.”

“Only three more months to go.”

“I know. I’m excited, but nervous as hell. Pushing something the size of a watermelon out of my vagina is terrifying. No Lamaze class or book is going to prepare me for that.”

“Are you getting an epidural?”

“Hell yes, I am.”

“It’s going to be okay. You’ve got your birth plan, your mom, Houston, and I will be there.”

She swallows. “I hope so.”

“How’s the trio handling the fast-approaching arrival of another sibling?”

“They’re really excited. Phoenix is praying it’s a boy. He said there are too many girls in the house.”

I laugh, picturing Houston’s mini me delivering the statement with a serious expression. “He’s Houston all over. I see very little of his mother in him. Not that it’s a bad thing. Are they still having nightmares about her coming and taking them away?” I ask, remembering the countless sleepless nights Liv and Houston endured after the triplet’s biological mother, Rain, reappeared and opted to fight for custody.

“No, they’ve tapered off. Counseling and the excitement about the new baby really helped.”

“So did their new mama,” I say not about to let her discredit herself. I’ve always admired her graciousness, but she put in long hours and oceans of TLC into those littles long before she said I
do
to Houston. Best friends turned lovers, Liv and Houston’s story was the stuff romances were made of.

“I know this makes me sound awful, but I’m glad she lost her rights to them. This way there will be no more resurfacing at the drop of a dime and thrusting our family into complete chaos. With her out there lurking it’d be too much like I was waiting for the killer in the horror movie to come back for that one last scare when you least expect it. They deserve better than that.”

“You’re right, and thanks to you and Houston, they’ll get it.”

“God, I hope so. My biggest fear is failing them. Parenting is a difficult job that comes with no instructions, plenty of outside speculation, and a tiny, emotional being with rapidly changing needs. It’s daunting.” She sighs. “Yet, I wouldn’t trade a moment of it. They’ve started calling me Mom, Ef. Can you believe that?”

My heart melts as I rejoice for the happiness she’s found. She’s been their mother in everything but name for years since their birth mother abandoned them.

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask softly.

She sniffs, and swipes at her eyes with her fingers, blinking furiously to contain the tears that make her eyes sparkle like gemstones. “I can’t even begin to describe it. I’ve never felt so complete in my entire life.”

She sighs. I swear any moment a blue bird is going to flutter into the café and land on her shoulder because she looks so damn content. Clearing her throat, she pops the last bite of her scone into her mouth.

“What theme are you going for with the gender reveal?” I ask, trying to get an idea of what we’re shopping for.

“Classic with soft shades of blue and pink. You know we’re minimalists at heart. Probably because life with three children is hectic enough.”

“Okay, so maternity store, and then party store?”

“Sounds good to me.”

I drain the last drops of my coffee. We rise, and I carry our mugs back to the counter. This spot is a hidden treasure. Open twenty-four hours it has a laid back vibe, good music, and personal touches that make it feel like a home away from home. I’ve spent many hours brainstorming when I didn’t feel like being in the quiet space of my house.

We head out to the Black SUV she upgraded to after she married Houston, and I marvel at the ways life can change in just six months. As I climb into the cab, I can’t help but wonder what the next six will bring for me. I’ve been rocked to my core and had my character tested. Will the tide change? My grandmother always said when one door closes a window opens. Is there some fantastic event coming in my future that’ll make what I’ve been through pale in comparison? My mind flickers to Edgar. I’m not a disbeliever in love, I’ve simply never experienced it. Not the real, let’s get married and spend the rest of our lives together love. I’m thirty-five, and I’ve started to think maybe it’s not in the cards for me. Now, I’m wondering if I jumped the gun with my assessments.

***

It took everything in me to come to my parents for the barbecue. I’m still running on little sleep from staying up way too late at Liv and Houston’s. Houston’s best friend, Ollie, was over, and we played cards. I remove my sunglasses, and place them in the case built into the overhead of my car. I run my hand over my face. My Aunt Rhonda is back in town visiting from Georgia. She’s a Southern woman with old-fashioned beliefs, advice I never ask for or follow, and deep bitterness from a bad divorce.

I do my best to avoid her like the plague, because we butt heads nonstop. But I know how important it is for my mother to get us all together. My brother, Aren, drove down from Austin with his wife and two kids for the weekend, so short of being out of town for work, I needed to be here. I step out of the car, and bypass the front door, following the gleeful cries of children melding in with the conversation. I open the gate.

“Efia!” my mom calls as she hurries over and hugs me close. I adore my mother. She’s a petite powerhouse with a kind heart, sharp tongue when necessary, and an intelligent brain.

“Hey, Mama.”

“I’m so glad you could make it. You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?”

“Usually, yes, but not today. I was up late helping Liv plan out her gender reveal party. She still refuses to tell me what they’re having, can you believe that?”

“Yes, I can,” my mother replies with a knowing look.

“Hey, I can keep a secret! I think they don’t even know.”

“Is that Efia? Let me look at you.”

The Southern twang makes me cringe mentally. It’s like a dog whistle to canines; I long to cover my ears and drown it out. Instead, I fix a smile onto my lips.

“Hi, Aunt Rhonda,” I say as I step away from my mother and find myself engulfed in a White Diamond scented embrace.

“You’re even more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.” Pulling away, she looks me up and down. I force myself to relax. Her eyes are sharp, but she doesn’t have laser vision. She can’t see through my head scarf to the bald head beneath.

“Thank you. You look wonderful. Have you lost weight?”

She beams. “I can see why you’re so good at your job. You’re a natural charmer.” Aunt Rhonda glances behind me. “There’s no young man here with you?”

And here we go again with this bullshit.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, Auntie.”

She clucks her tongue. “All that success you’re achieving in your field isn’t going to keep you warm at night, or be by your side as you grow older.”

Neither is your ex-husband.
I muzzle the ugly words before they can slip out. She’s poking a bear with a stick. I’m only going to take it quietly for so long.

“Look at you brother, Aren, and his wife, Amanda. They’re happy. Aren’t Charlotte and Gregory adorable?”

“They are, aren’t they? I should go say hi to them. It’s been a while since I saw them last,” I say, successfully excusing myself without putting on my feminist cap and explaining women have the right to do what they want to these days. It’s all about the right to choose what’s best for each individual. The speech would fall on deaf ears with Aunt Rhonda.

“Remember those eggs of yours won’t last forever,” she says.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Auntie. I don’t plan on having kids.”

Her mouth flops open and I give a bright smile and a saucy wink before I turn on my heels and walk over to the pool where my five-year-old niece and seven-year-old nephew are playing with their parents.

“Aunt Efia!” they cry.

I laugh. “Hey, guys.” I kneel beside the swimming pool. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes. Are you getting in?”

“Not today,” I say, shaking my head. Charlotte pouts and I feel a tiny pang in my chest. I’d give her the sun and the moon, but right now I’m too afraid of judgment to even swim. I feel pathetic.