"Maybe you shouldn't read it."
"Then we'll be unprepared and screwed. At least now we'll know why we're screwing up."
"Why can't you wait tables?" I sat next to her on the bed, keenly aware Finn was sitting by himself in our living room.
"He said no one wants to see a pregnant belly. Reminded them of home."
"We can buy a webcam, and you can strip at home. There's a fetish for everything. Remember the knitting guy?" I'd come across a guy in a full body suit knitted out of gray—and what looked like really itchy—yarn. One of the strippers told us that it was fetish gear. If someone liked to look at men or women in a full knitted sweater, then there was probably a crew who loved the pregnant belly.
"You need to get off the Internet, Winter. That shit'll scar you." She thumbed the edge of the book. "Did you happen to mention to Tucker that I could be a great shop bitch?"
"Things are tight there. Rent is expensive in the East Village."
"Bullshit. He doesn't want to hire a felon." She sighed and pressed her head against her hand. "Which is ironic since half his clientele must be criminals. Every chick inside had at least one tattoo." She shook her head and laughed humorlessly. "I took the car and applied at some restaurants, but I'm guessing if I have to handle money then I won't be hired. I called a cleaning agency, and they said no as well because all their cleaners had to be licensed and bonded and someone with a felony record wouldn't pass." She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. Fidgeting with the book, she didn't look up when she asked me, "Winter, do you think I should have an abortion?"
My heart turned over. "I don't know."
Initially, I was convinced I would have gotten the abortion, but now…I didn’t know. I was the unwanted child of some woman in China. Maybe if I'd been born a boy, my biological family would have kept me. But I wasn't. I was a girl and therefore expendable, or worse, just trash, given that I was left on the side of the road. Mom had said that my bio mom must have cared deeply because I'd been left near a police station, sure to be found and then fostered out.
It was the best possible light to place on anyone abandoned. It hurt to hear Ivy talk about her baby in such unhappy terms, but she was right. It wasn't my body or my future at stake.
"I'll support you in whatever decision you make," I said and gave her the best smile I could. "I took the apprenticeship job, and I know that once I start inking fulltime I can make enough to support us both."
"And the baby?"
"All of us."
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I'm going to find a job. Even if I have to work construction, I'll find something. As long as you're in this with me." She held out her pinkie. When we were kids we used to hook our pinkies together and call it the Donovan sister promise—unbreakable. I didn't hesitate but hooked mine with hers.
"Donovan pinkie promise," we both said and then shook.
"You need anything?"
She hesitated and then gave me a wry grimace. "I think I'm getting those pregnancy cravings. Now that I'm not puking all the time, I'm constantly hungry. I'd kill for McDonald’s fries and a Coke."
"I'll get it." Finn appeared at the doorway. "Hey, Ivy, how you doing?"
Ivy didn't even look surprised or interested. "Oh, hey, you're here. I'm fine," she said uncharitably.
"But hungry." He was unperturbed. "Want to make a McDonald's run, Winter?"
"Sure." I turned back to Ivy, whose normally open face was inscrutable. "Medium? Large?"
"Large, but do you have to go, Winter? Finn's perfectly capable of driving a half mile by himself, right, Finn?"
"Nope. I'm pretty worthless without Winter."
"I'm sick and pregnant," she snapped.
"You said you weren't sick, only hungry."
My head bobbed between the two of them in confusion. Was Ivy mad that I was leaving her or going with Finn?
"Ready, baby?" he asked me and held out his hand.
I looked back at Ivy, who was glaring openly at both of us. It was five minutes, ten at tops, and it seemed that since Finn was doing the favor, I should go with him. Or that's how I justified it to myself.
"We'll be back soon," I assured Ivy.
"Fine," she muttered. "Leave me then."
Mystified at Ivy's tantrum, I took Finn's hand and went back to his truck.
"What was that all about?" he asked when he climbed into the driver's seat.
"I don't know. I thought maybe you would."
He started the engine. "No idea, but she really didn't want you to go with me."
I had no answers, so I asked what he was doing tomorrow. He winced. "Paperwork. Small flip jobs like mine require a few bills to about four subcontractors. A project like Riverside requires a mountain of paperwork, which I hate."