“Yes. It's very beautiful,” she commented, and the wistful look was plain-as-day on her face. Tate shut the door and led her into the kitchen.
“There's a formal dining room, but I figured we could just snack in here,” Tate explained, gesturing to some stools at the end of the large island which sat in the middle of his kitchen.
“I can't believe I'm here. I always wondered what this place was like,” Ellie breathed, her eyes roaming over everything.
“You knew about this house?”
“Yeah, his father talked about it, a lot. His dad was originally from this area,” Ellie explained. Of course, Tate already knew that – but she didn't say anything.
“Oh. Well, he's done a lot of remodeling. The conservatory on the back is new, and he had all new hardwood floors put in, wiring, new modern bathrooms, the works,” Tate explained, waving her hand around. Ellie frowned.
“Pity. I would never have let him do that, I would've kept it as close to the original building as possible,” she commented. Tate frowned. She didn't care for Ellie's tone. It was one she recognized well; Ellie's “I would've been soooooo much better than you, at everything you've ever done” voice. Like Tate wasn't keeping Jameson in line enough, or something.
“I love it. You should see the master bedroom, he completely gutted it, doubled its size. The bed is huge,” Tate couldn't resist adding. Ellie frowned.
“I'll take your word for it.”
They sat in silence for a while, nibbling on snacks Tate had sat out. She and Ellie had never really reached a place where they were comfortable just chatting. They were a lot better than they were a year ago, but still not besties. Sometimes they could laugh and have fun together. Other times ..., other times were more like old times, and Tate felt like she was in a competition. This felt like one of those times.
“So when is the baby due?” Tate asked, glancing at Ellie's huge stomach.
“About six weeks. God, I'm over this. I'm just ready to meet him,” she laughed, patting her baby bump. Tate smiled.
“Still gonna name him Mathias?” she asked. Ellie scrunched up her face.
“I've been having second thoughts. Daddy still won't speak to me,” she replied.
“Join the club. I think we're better off,” Tate assured her. “What about Robert, is he coming down for the birth?”
Ellie's abusive ex-husband, Robert Carmichael, lived in upstate New York. Or rather, he hid. Jameson had once threatened to rip his jaw off, after he had slapped Tatum. When Ellie had first left him, Robert tried to get back together with her, but after he found out she had run away to Tate's apartment, he had left her alone. Granted her anything she wanted in the divorce.
Sometimes, Jameson being the devil was a very good thing.
“I hope not. I'll call him after it happens. He's not getting any custodial rights, so I don't know why he would,” Ellie snarled. Tate nodded.
“Good plan. So does Ang, like, go to lamaze classes with you?” Tate couldn't help but snicker. Ellie shook her head.
“Oh, no. We're not into all that, we're more like you and Jameson,” she said quickly. Tate's ears perked up.
“Excuse me? What do you mean?” she asked.
“Just sex. You know, like -,” Ellie started to explain again. Tate shook her head.
“Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying? You guys just have sex, and that's it? You're not boyfriend-girlfriend?” she clarified. Ellie nodded.
“Well, yeah. We don't go on dates, or stuff like that,” she said.
“But ..., but I thought you guys were dating. The word dating implies going on dates. He calls you his girlfriend,” Tate stressed. Ellie rolled her eyes.
“I know, it's horrible. I can't figure out how to tell him we're not like that,” she replied. Tate nearly choked on a pretzel.
“Apparently you are like that! Ellie, Ang hasn't had a girlfriend the entire time I've known him. He's a sex-machine, only uses women for one thing. If he calls you his girlfriend, then you're his goddamn girlfriend!” Tate snapped. Ellie frowned.
“I thought you were the liberal thinker, here. I'm just trying to be like you, you know, sow my wild oats. I never meant for him to get so attached,” Ellie whined.
“Be like me!? Ellie, I never pretended to be a guy's girlfriend so he would fuck me. I would never do something like that – I'm always honest. And don't say you guys are like Jameson and I, you don't know the first thing about us,” she argued. Tate. Was. Pissed. Ang had defended Ellie. Tate had felt guilty over Ellie. Ellie had only cared about Ellie. Big fuckin' surprise.
“I know that you guys use each other for sex. How come it's okay for the two of you to do it, but no one else!? Not me, not Angier?” Ellie snapped back.