38 Weeks Pregnant And Done Waiting novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: June's Couch

June takes her in at two in the morning and wants to burn the house down. Millicent says no, and sets one rule. At seven the surgery scheduler calls: Mr. Rigby cancelled the date.

June's car pulled up with its headlights off.

She got out in a hoodie and scrub pants, took one look at me on the porch step, and picked up my bag without a word.

"Can you walk to the car?" she asked.

"I walked to the porch."

"That's not what I asked."

She put her arm under mine and got me into the passenger seat with the belt under my belly.

June is an ICU nurse. She does not panic in front of people who are scared.

She waited until we had turned out of my street.

"Okay. Talk."

I handed her my phone with the video open.

She watched with one eye on the road for a moment.

Then she pulled over beside a closed gas station and watched the rest with both eyes.

I heard Kendall's voice come out of the little speaker, and then Brett's.

June didn't say anything until it ended.

"I am going to drive back there," she said, "and put a golf club through that television."

"You don't own a golf club."

"I'll buy one. There's a Dick's open until midnight."

"It's after two."

"Then I'll break in."

I laughed, and the laugh turned into crying, and she reached over and held the back of my neck until it stopped.

"I'm not crying because of him," I said. "I'm crying because I'm tired."

"Sure."

"He bet five hundred dollars that I'd cry and stay."

"So don't do either."

"That's the plan."

She started the car again.

Her apartment was on the second floor with no elevator.

I took the stairs one at a time with her hand under my elbow.

My bag banged on her hip, and by the landing we were both out of breath.

"Don't give birth on my stairs," she said. "The landlord already hates me."

Her couch was lumpy and smelled like laundry soap.

She put a blanket over me and a glass of water in my hand.

Then she balanced a bowl of dry cereal on my knee, because she had nothing else.

I ate it. I hadn't known I was hungry.

She sat on the coffee table facing me with her elbows on her knees.

"Tell me what you want to happen."

"I want to have my baby in ten days with nobody touching me who laughed at that table."

"And Brett?"

"I want him to find out what it feels like to lose a bet in front of everyone."

June nodded slowly. "Good. We call Mom now and a lawyer at nine."

"And at ten we send that video to his father and his whole company."

"No."

"Millie."

"If I send it now, he has all day to cry about it."

I kept going. "He'll say it was a joke and his friends were drunk. He'll say I'm hormonal and I made it up."

I hadn't known I was going to say that last part until it was out.

June frowned. "Would he?"

"He's been telling people I'm anxious for a month."

She was quiet a second.

"Okay," she said. "So what's your rule?"

"I don't say one word to Brett about the video. Not one. Not until I choose the room."

"What room?"

"The one with the most people in it."

June's mouth twitched.

"I want it in writing that I get to help pick," she said.

"You can pick the lighting."

"Deal."

She held out her pinky, which we hadn't done since we were kids, and I hooked mine around it.

Then she went into the other room and came back with her laptop.

"Your hospital folder. Where is it?"

"Brett has it. He took it home from my last appointment."

"Who has your patient portal login?"

I opened my mouth and shut it again.

"Brett set it up," I said. "On his email, so I wouldn't have to stress about it."

June looked at me for a long moment.

"Call me paranoid," she said, "but a man who bets on his wife leaving doesn't get to hold the keys to her surgery."

"We don't know that he'd do anything with them."

"We'll find out at nine."

I lay back on the couch, and the blanket smelled like her, and for the first time that night nobody was laughing.

My phone was face down on my chest.

Twice it buzzed against me, and I didn't turn it over.

At some point I slept.

When I opened my eyes, the window over the sink had gone gray.

June was standing over me with her hand on my shoulder.

"Your phone's ringing. It's an unknown number, and it's been ringing for a while."

It was ten past seven.

I answered it sitting up.

"Mrs. Rigby? This is the surgical scheduling office at Mercy General. I'm sorry to call so early."

"I'm here."

"I'm only confirming. We received a call from your husband at six o'clock last night saying you'd decided to cancel your surgery date."

The room went very quiet.

"I never said that."

"Yes, ma'am. He said you were too anxious to go through with it, and that you'd call back to reschedule when you felt ready."

June had leaned in close enough to hear every word.

I looked at her.

She mouthed: "Six o'clock."

He had made that call before the party even started.

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