Inseparable

“You could have stayed home tonight,” she said. “I would have understood.”

“It’s alright. My doctor told me to double up on my medicine tonight so I could make it through the night.” I laughed.

“Maybe getting up and doing some yoga or going for a walk will help,” she said. “Exercise is like the cure-all for me. When I am sick, I go running, even if I have to drag myself out of bed to do it. By the time I’m back and showered, I’ve sweated the sickness right out of me.”

“I don’t think that I can just sweat the baby right out of me,” I said, laughing. “Maybe when I am reaching my due date, but definitely not right now. The doctor has me on light duty until I reach my second trimester. He doesn’t want me doing anything strenuous.”

“We could get you one of those motorized buggies to ride around in.” She laughed.

“Don’t laugh,” I said. “I am pretty much exhausted from sun up to sun down. I might just take you up on the buggy. You can ride on the back and navigate.”

“That would be amazing.” She giggled. “We would terrorize this city, one mile per hour at a time.”

“My focus is completely shot,” I said. “I tried to read the other day and ended up having a day dream that turned into a real dream when I fell asleep at the kitchen table. I also put my keys in the freezer and my purse on the shelf in the pantry the other day. It took me forever to find my keys. I felt like such an idiot finding them nestled in with the peas.”

“My grandma used to do that, but she had dementia,” Lindsay said, giggling.

“I feel like it,” I said. “And don’t even talk about emotions. I am like the queen of emotions right now. I cry over everything, and when it’s worth crying over, I sob. Sometimes, I can’t even catch my breath, I get so upset. I sat in the kitchen earlier tonight, worried that people were going to find out I was pregnant by the guy that just dumped me, and I cried my eyes out. I feel like I am going insane sometimes.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “Crying is good for you. You never cried when we were growing up. You are getting all the backlogged tears out of your system.”

“I don’t th

ink it works that way.” I laughed.

“You remember the time you fell out of the tree and broke your arm?” Lindsey asked. “You didn’t shed one tear. The EMS guy thought you were in shock.”

“He wrapped me in that heat blanket, and I was sweating like a pig.” I chuckled.

“You said, ‘Excuse me, sir, but I am frying like bacon over here,’” she said, laughing hysterically.

“God,” I said, laughing. “I miss being a kid. Life was so much simpler. Even my life. I didn’t have to worry about stupid boys or broken hearts. I just worried about getting you up and going for the day because you slept like a damn log.”

“I still do.” She giggled. “Snoring and all. If only my fans knew how hideous I was to sleep next to, none of them would want to have sex with me.”

“They still would.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said, laying her head on my shoulder. “I haven’t been there for you like I should be. You need me right now, and I am off in La La land, drinking, partying, and working.”

“And being a fiancée and planning a wedding,” I said. “I am the one that should be apologizing. I feel like I burnt out right before the finish line, leaving you to sweep up the pieces.”

“See, this is why I don’t deserve you as a friend,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are so selfless,” she replied. “You are going through hell right now, and all you can think about is being there for me because I’m getting married. All I can think about is how much I want to eat my wedding cake.”

“In your defense, that thing was amazing,” I said. “I totally have been dreaming about eating that thing, even when I feel like hell. At the wedding, I am going to steal an entire layer and take it in the back.”

“I’m such a terrible friend,” she said, starting to cry.

“No, you’re not,” I said. “You are the greatest friend. You protect me, barge into billionaire’s offices, and give them a piece of your mind, and you always give me the best advice ever.”

“But you’re pregnant and all alone,” she wailed. “You need me more than I need you.”

“I love you,” I said, feeling the hormones start to kick in. “We take turns needing each other.”

“And it’s your turn, and I’ve dropped the ball,” she said, wiping her tears. “I’ve dropped it right into a whirlwind of wedding plans, rubbing my happiness in your face while my sister demolishes your happy ending. I wish she was here right now. I’d kick her ass up and down the damn street.”