“Oh, sure,” Greer says, brow pinched together. “What would you like to read?”
“What to Expect when You’re Expecting.”
Ahhhh, I get it.
“It will be a layman’s read for me, but a touch easier for you three to comprehend.”
Isn’t she sweet?
“I would prefer, since we are all going through this together, we educated ourselves and set up weekly meetings to go over book content.”
Stella scoffs. “In the wise words of David Rose—your body, your problem.”
“Stella,” Greer scolds.
Sheepishly, she shrugs. “What? It’s true.”
Keiko takes a step toward us, and unsure of what she might do—given the expressionless look on her face—as a collective whole, we take a step back. She takes another step forward, we take another step back, and we all repeat the process until we’re pressed against the wall.
Fearful for my life, I consider if this is God’s way of smiting me for all my poor decisions . . . until Keiko opens her arms and gathers us all in a hug.
Confused.
Frightened.
Unsure of how to act.
All three of us exchange terrified looks before slowly placing our arms around Keiko and returning the sentiment.
After a few moments of hugging, Keiko straightens herself, adjusts the collar of her shirt, and announces, “I shall call this fetus Blanche if a girl, Seymour if a boy, in honor of my lineage.”
“Um, don’t you think you should discuss that with Kelvin?” Stella asks.
Smiling, Keiko says, “I think you put it quite nicely, Stella—my body, my problem.”
Oh God.
“Keiko, you have to include Kelvin,” Greer says. “This is his baby too. And he might not be carrying it, but he’s still very much a part of this.”
“She’s right,” I add. “Kelvin deserves to be a part of this.”
Keiko looks away. “I will be ending our accord later this week.”
“What?” we all shout at the same time.
Keiko and Kelvin, they’re . . . they’re like—God, they’re like Sheldon and Amy from The Big Bang Theory, oddly meant to be together. There isn’t anyone else on this world made for either of them, and if they break up, it very well might throw the earth off its axis.
As if she’s trying to save face, Keiko says, “Kelvin has clearly stated he is not desiring to father children. Therefore, I shall end our accord so he does not feel obligated to dawdle within the confines of a union.”
“Keiko,” I say softly. “You can’t break up with him just because of the baby. Maybe he changed his mind.”
Keiko tugs on the hem of her dress shirt. “I appreciate your lackluster attempt at soothing the bruised muscular organ that rests beneath my chest bone, but ’tis not necessary. The time has come for me to operate as an adult. Kelvin does not want to acquire offspring; therefore, Blanche slash Seymour and I will cohabitate, and when the time comes, he or she will climb the scientific social ladder as the next child prodigy.” She hands Greer the pregnancy stick. “Please discard with today’s trash. I shall retreat to my dwellings now. Thank you for your time.” She bows—I don’t know why—and then takes off, leaving us all confused and concerned.
When the door clicks shut, Greer says, “We can’t let her break up with Kelvin. He’s going to be heartbroken.”
“Maybe one of us should go after her,” I say, looking toward Greer and Stella.
Stella touches her nose. “Not it. I can’t imagine a conversation where we don’t end up battling each other, her with some medieval sword she pulls out of nowhere, and me with a bobby pin from my purse. There will be bloodshed, and it won’t be pretty.”
I hate to admit it, but she might be right.
So, I turn to Greer. “That leaves you.”
“Why do I have to go? Why can’t you?”
“Uh”—I motion to my apartment—“I’m kind of caught up in the seventh circle of hell, a bit busy over here.”
“I wouldn’t say sharing a studio apartment with Pike Greyson is the seventh circle of hell,” Stella says. “He’s hot. He has an accent. And he wants you. Seems like a pretty good deal to me.”
“You two have been great,” I say, tugging at their arms. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave before my—before Pike gets home.” Maybe if I refuse to say the loathsome word, it won’t be true. “Now hurry along.” I move them to the door and add, “And go check on your friend. She’s pregnant and out of control.”