Page 75 of Made for You
Of course, I agreed. It’s the right thing to do.
Then she didn’t get better.
Would our marriage have weathered the strains of pregnancy and adjusting to real life if we hadn’t also had to shoulder the immediate burden of his mother’s health? The awfulness of those long months as I reckoned with morning sickness while caring for a dying woman who hated me? I tried so hard to be the positive, upbeat, nurturing Julia that Josh had fallen in love with on The Proposal. I gave it my all, and my all wasn’t enough. A lesson that maybe I’ve never recovered from.
In retrospect, it was too much change, too fast. All of it.
We were spinning out of control, the cotton candy fantasy of our love story all the more bitter because of how quickly it dissolved. Like it had been made of nothing but sugar and air.
My phone rings, yanking me out of this string of what-ifs.
“Vanessa!” I say. Hopefully she’s calling with information on Stalker Girlfriend. “Did you find out about the redhead?”
“Yes, sorry it took so long. Her name was Laura Pine.”
“Was?”
“Um—she actually died, like, years ago.” Vanessa’s voice is soft, like she feels bad for delivering this blow, even though neither of us have met the girl. “Her Facebook page is still active, but there hasn’t been anything new on it for a long time. I’ll text you the link.”
“Okay.” I close my eyes, tilt my head back. Damn it. Stalker Girlfriend was such a strong contender for murder. She could have been obsessed with Josh for years after their breakup...then she saw him on The Proposal, which sent her into a jealous fit...strong enough to follow him to Indiana and murder him.
Now her name will just be a crossed-off dead end on my list. Just like Deborah’s. It doesn’t escape me that I should be sorrier that this Laura Pine died. But apparently, my emotions are no longer obeying any laws of propriety.
“Do you think you’ll be coming back for Annaleigh anytime soon?” says Vanessa.
“I need a few more days. How is my sweetie?”
The air smells like cow manure and gasoline. The pump clicks. I jiggle the nozzle to release the last drops of gas and press YES on the screen for a receipt.
“Can you switch to FaceTime?” says Vanessa. “You can see her for yourself, I have her right here.”
“Sure.” I hit Accept on the call and nearly burst into tears when Annaleigh pops onto my screen. She’s on Vanessa’s hip. They’re both smiling.
“Is that a new tooth?” I say. I might actually explode with emotion.
“Yes, it just pushed through!” says Vanessa as Annaleigh bounces excitedly.
“And how’s she doing with formula?”
“She guzzles it right down!” says Vanessa with pride.
Annaleigh gurgles and reaches a fat hand for the phone. Laughing, Vanessa whisks the phone out of her reach, angling it high above their heads as Annaleigh keeps reaching and says, “Ma-ma-ma-ma!”
“Hello, sweetheart,” I say. I have to smile for her. Show her my brave face. “How are you, my baby? Do you miss your mama?”
“She’s great,” says Vanessa in a cute voice, looking at Annaleigh. “Aren’t we doing great? And we like broccoli!” It’s hard to believe this is the same woman who looked horrified at the idea of a baby waking up in the night. Was that just yesterday?
“That’s wonderful!” I take a deep breath.
“Ooops! Not that, sweetie!” cries Vanessa as the image on the phone swerves wildly.
“If you have to go, that’s fine,” I say. But actually, I’m the one that needs to go. I can’t bear looking at Annaleigh any longer, or I’m going to lose it. Not to mention the pressure in my breasts is incredibly painful.
“We’re just mixing up some formula, so... Okay, Annaleigh, say bye-bye!”
“Ma-ma!” shrieks Annaleigh with one last feral grab toward the screen, and they disconnect.
I stand there, staring at the empty screen for another few seconds. Then I hit the link in the message Vanessa sent. Facebook opens to Laura Pine’s page.