“Okay, what’s it for?”
“It’ll be for my first prenatal visit.” The words felt so foreign on my lips.
“Have you ever seen Dr. Carrie before?”
“Not as a patient, but I’m one of his delivery nurses at the hospital. He knows I’m planning on coming in.”
“Oh okay.” The person on the other end sounded so bright and cheery. “Well, I can get you in on Thursday, which is in two days if you’re able to make it. Someone called and cancelled this morning.”
No reason to keep holding of “Sounds great, I’ll take it.”
I heard her typing. She asked for my name, phone number, and basic insurance information. She told me to bring in my identification when I came in and to arrive fifteen minutes before my scheduled time to fill out paperwork. I knew the song and dance. Once I hung up, I felt oddly proud of myself for being an adult and finally doing something proactive about this pregnancy.
I glanced down at my screen and saw my mom texted me back while I had been on the phone. She said she could meet us. I took a deep breath. One step at a time. I knew I probably should have messaged Dodger to let him know about the appointment, but I didn’t feel like doing it right now. Maybe tonight when I soaked in the tub. It was my day off so I decided to treat myself to a pedicure before I faced the firing squad.
It didn’t take long for my morning to pass. My toes were fresh, and I went to the mall, but only window shopped. Only thing I bought was a cinnamon and sugar pretzel. I was currently heading to the café to meet my parents. I decided that nothing I said was going to make this easier on any of us, but I’d at least let them make it through their lunch before I told them.
After parking, I went to the podium and let the hostess know I needed a table for three. She promptly seated me and I sat looking around. I’d only been here a handful of times prior to today. It’s how I knew the sandwich was so delicious. The place had a great atmosphere. It mimicked most restaurants in New Orleans. They even had beignets on their dessert menu that tasted almost just like the ones you could get at Café Du Monde. It was very upbeat in here with jazz music playing, and the rounded tables and black iron chairs. Purple, gold, and green masks adorned the walls along with photos from Mardi Gras parades from decades past. The front of the place was wall to wall windows. It smelled sweet like cookies baking and my stomach was growling. Despite my nerves, nothing would stop me from getting my fill of the food here. My appetite was slowly coming back despite the occasional vomit session or scent sending my stomach spiraling.
My mother was the first to arrive, with my dad coming in within a minute of her. Both were seated at my table after they bent down and kissed me lovingly on the cheek.
“How has your day been?” my mom asked as she opened her menu.
“Uneventful. Just walked around the mall.”
“You didn’t have to work?” my dad chimed in.
“I had the day off. Figured I’d treat you both to lunch and make it as relaxing as I can.”
My mom said, “Wish I had a day off. I had to attend a ground breaking ceremony for a new logistics building on the south side of town. I swear, I spend more time being a public figure smiling for the newspaper, than I do actually performing any tasks.”
“You love it,” my dad argued.
She smiled at him like they both had some inside secret I wasn’t privy too. My parents were people I admired and looked up too. They had been married for thirty-two years and were high school sweethearts. Daddy said he saw my mom walk into his advanced algebra class and he was a smitten kitten. Mom’s story is a little different, of course. She said Daddy was the annoying math nerd that did everything he could to get her attention. I guess after he convinced her to meet him for a study session, she decided he wasn’t so bad. The rest is history. I came along about seven years into their marriage. Momma struggled with infertility and when they conceived me, they decided it was too hard on them to try for any more kids. Sometimes I wished I had a sibling but I also know if I did have one, I wouldn’t be near as spoiled as I have been in my life.
Our waitress came up to our table and set down three glasses of water. She greeted us and asked what we all wanted. I was ridiculously over excited about having my sandwich. My parents both got the same thing: a cup of clam chowder and chicken Caesar salad. It was a fairly short wait for our food and small talk was made. My dad talked to my mom about an upcoming business trip he was going to be making to Boston. My mom mentioned another dinner party she needed to attend. I swear these two rarely gave themselves a break. While they spoke to each other, I occasionally interjected just to make them believe I had been paying attention. In reality, I was freaking out about how I was going to do this. The longer I sat here holding it in, the more anxious I was becoming. My toe started tapping on the floor and I was chewing on my lip. It was my mom who took notice.
“Macie, are you okay?”
“Hmmm?”
She glanced at my dad. “I asked if you were okay. You’ve not said much, and you were the one that asked us to lunch. What’s on your mind?”
I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Fucking hell, here goes.
“Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to . . .” My voice trailed off.
My seat faced the window. Directly across the street stood Dodger s waving at me. I closed my mouth and made eye contact. Furrowing my brows, I watched as he crossed the road, and came toward the café. What on earth was he doing? As he approached the window, I could see he noticed who I was sitting with. When his eyes came back to mine, I knew exactly what he was going to do. Shaking my head back and forth I silently screamed at him, “Don’t you dare.”
Too late. I looked back at my parents and gave them a curt smile, gritting my teeth. They looked so perplexed, like I’d gone mad.
“Mace, what’s going on?” my dad asked.
Not one second after he spoke, a waitress came to our table with Dodger by her side. My parents looked up at him and then to me. I refused to look at my little party crasher. If I did, I’d hand him his ass.
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. Macie, you didn’t tell us Dodger was coming to lunch too. We could have waited to order our food.” My mother’s southern sweet voice oozed politeness.
I couldn’t hold in my distain. Putting my elbows on the table and head in my hands, I blurted, “You ass, of course you would show up.”
Momma clucked her tongue. “Macie Rae, what is the matter with you. Don’t be rude.”
Ugh, I hated being scolded. Made me feel like I was a child again being told what to do.