"You're just jealous that you don't have a dress like this." Mary Lou crossed her arms, making her shriveled mocha peaches rise disturbingly high.
"I don't think I'll be wearing a dress like that in a long, long time," she said.
At that moment, the melancholy came rushing back. She remembered why she'd come over, and it wasn't to debate whether Filbert had had a heart attack because he'd gotten an eyeful of Mary Lou's dress.
"Why not?" Mary Lou eyeballed her. "Your skinny white ass could fit into anything."
She stared at Mary Lou, knowing it was time to tell her only human friend about her problem. In her head, she imagined informing the woman in the most dignified and graceful way possible.
Unfortunately, instead of doing it that way, she blurted out, "My skinny white ass also happens to be pregnant."
Shit. Well, she'd never been dignified or graceful anyway. Besides, the cat was out of the bag. Sure, it happened to have rabies and was clawing everything in sight, but it was out regardless.
"Are you playing with me right now?" Mary Lou studied her. "You know, like that time when you said that you were going to take away my key to your apartment, even though you didn't?"
Emmy groaned. "I wish I was playing with you."
"How did this happen?" Mary Lou stared at her, flabbergasted.
She said drily, "Well, when a man likes a woman very much, sometimes he'll—"
"Not that, you ninny. I know enough about sex to write a textbook." Mary Lou waved away her words. "What I mean is, how the hell did this happen to you? Your legs couldn't be more firmly closed if somebody duct taped them together and then sealed the remaining cracks with concrete."
Was she that much of a prude? "Thanks…"
"You know what I mean," Mary Lou said. "Who's the father?"
She hung her head in shame. "You remember that guy who saved me from having my head smashed by the BMW?"
"The hero guy?" Mary Lou gasped.
She stared determinedly at the ceiling as her cheeks burned. "Well, there was more to the story than what I told you. Hero guy didn't just save me. Hero guy also took me to his place, and…"
"And you played hide the cannoli with him," Mary Lou said. "Oh, good grief. You finally get laid after a lifelong dry spell—"
Emmy fumed. "Hey!"
"And this is what happens to you?" Mary Lou shook her head. "You've got shit luck."
"It could be worse." Emmy winced.
Mary Lou sank down in the seat across from her. "How?"
"I could have crabs instead," she said.
"Psh." Mary Lou rolled her eyes. "All you need to do to treat crabs is use antilice shampoo."
"How the hell do you know that?"
The woman twiddled her thumbs innocently. "A friend told me."
"Uh-huh." Emmy didn't believe that for a second. "Fine. Then I could have HIV."
"That's true," Mary Lou said. "Or malaria."
Emmy nodded. "Or a flesh-eating fungus."
"Leprosy is one nasty-ass disease," Mary Lou said. "You could have leprosy."
"Or I could be married to Justin Bieber."
Both women shivered in horror.
"Now you went too damn far," Mary Lou said. "That's just morbid."
"Regardless, I'm saying that there are many, many things worse than this." Emmy placed her hand on her stomach. "I'm not ready to have a baby, but it's happening whether I like it or not."
"So you're keeping it, then?" Mary Lou asked. "You know, you could always give it up for adoption."
Emmy hesitated.
"What?" Mary Lou eyeballed her.
"It's just, I keep thinking…" Emmy paused.
Despite the lag in conversation, Mary Lou didn't speak. The woman just watched her.
"Why can't I do this?" Emmy straightened her shoulders. "Thanks to the success of my bakery, I've paid off all of my student loans. I can afford to buy a house. As for spending time with the baby, I can train someone to be a manager so I can be home more. Compared to a lot of women, I'm more than capable of raising a child."
Mary Lou nodded. "You'll also have a good babysitter who'll look after the kid for free while you're busting your ass making all of those cupcakes."
"Who?" She blinked.
"Duh." Mary Lou elbowed her. "Me."
"You'd really watch the baby while I'm at the bakery?" Emmy stared at her, eyes wide.
"Who else is going to teach the kid the really important things?" Mary Lou asked.
Emmy gave her a sour look.
"Well, besides you, of course," Mary Lou said quickly.
She was so touched tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you."