Though I hired movers, both Mandy and Lola insist on showing up to help unpack. I tell them it isn’t necessary, but it falls on deaf ears. They both like the house, and in the end, I am glad they are around. Having a familiar face in a new home is comforting, and once again my thoughts drift to Mom and Nana and how much I wish they were here.
I walk out into the garage where Bonnie stands proud. I kiss my fingers and run them over the leather seat slowly. “This is goodbye, old girl. You were great, and I’ll always love you,” I say before putting the protective motorcycle cover over the bike—retiring my first baby forever.
As I part ways with my first love, I pat my belly gently. “You are NEVER allowed on a motorcycle. You hear?” Spawn kicks me right in the liver. I roll my eyes. “I hope you are not my karma for the grief I gave Grandma.”
I shut off the lights to the garage and go inside my new home.
* * *
At twenty-nine weeks,Spawn is roughly the size of a small pumpkin. I should have nicknamed Spawn ‘parasite’ instead because she turned into a black hole for all of my energy. I spend most of my time on my back, with my feet raised, and check in on the bar only minimally. Joe is doing a great job.
Carolina texted a week ago about having a baby shower at my place, but I never finished unpacking, so I declined. I should have expected she would send the cavalry, but I didn’t.
I am content in my lazy time that keeps Spawn happy, which is why I am surprised when Lola and Mandy show up unannounced at my door. When I don’t get up to open the door. Lola texts.
Lola:You home? Open up.
Me:You have a key. Come in. I’m in my bedroom.
When Lola and Mandy take me and my room in, they have to do a doubletake. I have a bowl of popcorn on the bed, and stray popcorn litters the duvet. I also have a Banderilla in my hand—one of those tamarind candy sticks covered withchamoyand chili pepper—one of Spawn’s favorite snacks that I became addicted to those first few weeks when it was the only thing that didn’t make Spawn push the food out. The wrapper lies carefully over my belly.
The mountain that is my belly peeks out from under my black tank top because I never bothered to buy maternity clothes and nothing fits, so I’ve just resorted to a uniform of yoga pants.
The worst part is that Lola knows what a neat freak I was in a previous life. Everything has changed, and my life is no longer my own.
As I stare at their horror-stricken faces, I start to bawl. Just ugly crying my eyes out.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Mandy asks.
“Because she’s so pretty,” I wail, pointing at the television screen.
Mandy and Lola blink at each other and then look at the TV. “Uh,” Mandy says, “that actress?”
I nod, my eyes still glued to my telenovela that I only started watching hoping that’s how I’d get Spawn to come out understanding Spanish over English.
“Yes!” I cry out even louder. “Erica Moran is so pretty!” I sniffle and tug my shirt to cover more of my belly, but it springs back up, forcing another cry out of me.
Lola scratches her head, unsure of what to do or say. “Why is that a bad thing?” she asks.
“Because I’m a whale!” I cry out. “I can’t move without Spawn kicking my bladder or my lung. Everything hurts. None of my shoes fit...and —and...” I sob harder. “And all I want to do is ride Bonnie, but I can’t because it’s not responsible,” I whine even louder.
Mandy maneuvers around the stacks of boxes and dusts off some of the popcorn from the bed so she can sit next to me and take me in her arms. “Oh, honey,” she says. “You’re still so beautiful.”
“You’re the hottest pregnant lady I’ve ever seen,” Lola adds.
“You’re lying! I’m a mess. This place is a mess. Look at it!”
“It’s okay,” Mandy says, rubbing my arm. She peels the candy wrapper from my belly, balling it up in her fist. “Why don’t you go take a shower? Lola can start cleaning the room here, and I’ll unpack some of the boxes in the kitchen. How does that sound?”
“Yeah,” Lola says. “Between the two of us, we’ll be done in no time.”
I look up at both women and wipe my eyes. Fuck, I’m emotional. “Really?”
“We got you,” Lola says.
* * *
After Lolaand Mandy’s intervention, I know something has to change. I need to take control of my life and get my shit together. Spawn is going to need a strong mom, especially with her dad out of the picture.