Is the 'I Love You' Worth It?

On my last day, I work nine to three and Paige is there.
"OH MY GOD! I HEARD TODAY WAS YOUR LAST DAY!" she says when I walk through the door.
"Yeah," I nod.
"I'M GOING TO MISS YOU!" she says throwing her arms around me in a hug.
"Yeah," I repeat.
"WHY ARE YOU LEAVING?" she asks.
"Well, I need to take some time off for family things," I say.
"LIKE WHAT?" God, she just doesn't get it.
"Nothing," I say.
"OH."

When my shift is over I practically run out of that godforsaken store. I'm so ecstatic that I never have to go back there again. I drive home and plop down on the couch and decompress. Two weeks after I stayed over at Billie and Adrienne's and I still haven't called my mom. I just haven't been in the mood to deal with her, but coming off my elation of not having to shuck out shitty cookies to bratty kids anymore, I feel like I can take her on.
I pick up the phone and call her.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Lisea. You called me?" I say.
"Yes. Two weeks ago. I figured you stopped talking to us all together."
"Uh, I've been busy," I say.
"Too busy to return your mother's call?"
"Yeah," I say simply.

There's a brief disappointed silence.
"Well, you're father and I have been talking about your current situation."
"And what would that be?" I ask.
"You know. Your situation."
"No. I don't know." I love being difficult to her.
"You living with a boy. And being pregnant out of marriage."
"Oh, that," I say.
"Yes that."
"Well... ?" I'm trying to not to laugh.
"Well, I'm guessing you're keeping the baby."
"Yes. Of course." I say.
"So you have to marry this boy."
"Yeah." I say.
"As soon as possible."
"No," I snap.
"Yes."
"No. It's my life not yours. It should be my decision whether I get married. I don't want to be pregnant when I get married."
I hear her sigh heavily.
"Your father wants to talk to him."
"Who?" I ask.
"The father," she says.
"He's not here."
"Well when he get's home from work."
"He's not going to be home for two more weeks," I say.
"What?" she sounds shocked. Good.
"He's on tour. He's not coming home for two more weeks, and then he's gone again for another month."
"This will just not do," she says. "Your father wants to talk to him."
"Well, he can talk to him in two weeks." I say. "Look, I'm really busy, so I have to go." I hang up the phone.
Yeah, I know it's bitchy, but I really don't care.
***

Ever since the sleep over at Adrienne's, both me and Anastasia have been staying there a lot. It's an odd kinship that the three of us have, especially Adrienne and me, both of us being pregnant and all. It's really lonely at my place, so it's nice to have the company of someone in the same situation.

"I can't believe they're coming home in a week," Adrienne says one day. We're scrubbing out that horrid bathroom.
"I know," I say. "It feels like they've been gone for ever."
"Did Tre ever call you back?" she pauses to pull her hair back out of her face.
"No," I sigh.
"Well, that won't do,' she says, returning to scrubbing the wall behind the shower.
"What do you mean?"
"I told Billie Joe to make sure Tre called you, like a week and a half ago, and obviously he didn't," she says.
"You did?"
She nods. "Are you mad?"
"No," I say. "Of course not. Why would I be?"
"I don't know. Sometimes people get mad when you go behind their backs."
"You didn't go behind my back. Hell, if he can't call on his own, maybe Billie can force him to."
"Maybe," she laughs.
"At least they'll be home soon," I say more to myself than her.
"Yeah. It's pretty lonely without them."
"Mm hmm," I agree.
"Even if it's only for a couple of weeks," she sighs.
"It's better than not at all," I say.
"That's true," she laughs. "It's all Billie talks about- how much he wants to come home."
"He's so sweet," I say. She smiles to herself.
"I know," she giggles. "He is"
I nod. "He has been since I met him. It's just in his character, I guess."
"Tre is too," Adrienne says.
"I think it's funny that you stand up for him," I say straightening up and stretching my sore back.
"Well... " she draws out her answer. "I don't want you to- I don't know."
"It's okay," I sit on the edge of the bath tub.
"It's just he-"
"Really," I laugh. "It's okay."

She nods. We're quiet for a while.
"I gotta get out of here," I say laughing. "these fumes are getting to me."
"Totally," Adrienne agrees and drops her sponge in the tub.
"Hey, at least you can see what color the room was when it was originally painted," I say standing back and surveying our work.
"I just don't get the whole 'I'm a boy, I don't need to clean up after myself' thing," she says, wiping her forehead.
"That's Tre," I say. "he just leaves his clothes all over the place, wet towels on the floor. I don't know how he's going to deal with a baby."
"I think he's going to be a good dad. And I'm not just sticking up for him, either," she says.
"yeah?"
"Yeah. I really do. Maybe something like that will be the thing he needs to settle him down," she shrugs.
"Maybe," I say, chuckling. "I hope so."
***

the next week...
I wake up to the door bell ringing and pounding on the front door. I drag myself out of bed and figure it's one of the next door neighbors. They're really loud sometimes. I wander to the front room and open the door groggily.
"Holy fuckin' shit, you're huge!" Tre squeals and throws his arms around me.
"Tre," I gasp stumbling backwards at his weight being thrown on me.
"I'm home," he grins.
"I see that," I say, hugging him hard. He hugs me back.
"I'm not that big," I say placing my hands on my stomach.
"Psht, bigger than when I left," he says letting go of me and gathering up his luggage and dragging it in from the porch area.
I lean on the arm of the couch and fold my arms across my chest. I kind of feel like I've run out of things to say.
"Sorry I banged on the door," he says returning from hauling his stuff into the bedroom.
"It's okay," I say.
"I think I forgot my keys before I left," he says sitting on the arm of the couch next to me and hugging me to his chest.
"It's okay," I repeat. I look up at him and he looks around shiftily.
"And I'm sorry I didn't call you."
When I don't say anything, he continues.
"Adie chewed me out on the phone last night. I didn't realize you were mad."
I nod.
"I just didn't think of it. I mean, I don't know... " his voice trials off.
"Don't worry," I hug him. "I'm not mad. Adrienne and Anastasia- now they were livid. But they don't know you like I do."

He gives me a crooked smile.
"Sorry,' he says quietly.
"Please, just drop it, okay?" I say.
He nods eagerly.
"So, did you have a good time?" I ask.
"Oh, yeah, it was the best," he says jumping off the arm of the couch. "But I'm kind of hungry."
"Food's in the kitchen," I say pointing back. "There's not much, but I plan on going to the store today."
"Okay," he yells from the kitchen. I follow the sound of his voice.
"So," he says shoving a banana into his mouth. "We have to meet with label people today at noon, for some fuckin' lame reason, but then I have the whole rest of the week where we can do whatever you want. You know, when you don't work."
I laugh. "I don't work."
"Huh?"
"I quit a while ago," I say.
"You did?" his eyes bug out.
"Yeah, you know, I just go so sick of it. Plus, I know you didn't want me working."
"I didn't want you to get hurt, or the baby," he says pointing to my stomach. I smile at him.
"When do you have to do the label thing?" I ask.
"Noon, I told you," he giggles.
"Sorry," I blush. "I'm tired."
"I can tell."
**

"Where are you, peanut?" Tre yells when he returns from the label meeting.
"I'm in the kitchen," I call.
"Oh," he says coming in and hopping up on the counter.
"So I'm 'peanut' now, huh?" I say turning off the faucet and drying my hands on a towel.
"I just thought I'd try out something new," he says rooting around the stack of mail on the counter.
"Oh, I see." I push the chairs into the table as I leave the kitchen and head to the bedroom.
"Did you go to the store today?" he shouts after me.
"Everything's put away," I reply. There's a stack of unfolded clothes on the bed that I forgot I had put there. Meh. I hate folding clothes, but I have the time now, so I set to it. In the kitchen, it's quiet, but I don't pay too much attention.
When I'm half way through with the laundry, I hear the door jam creak.
"Folding shit?" Tre asks, followed by the sound of a whipped cream can being dispensed.
"Yeah," I laugh, turning to look at him as he sprays whipped cream directly into his mouth. He grins at me like he thinks I'm going to yell at him for doing so. I don't.
"Fun, I guess," he says walking over to the dresser and rifling through my jewelry that's sitting on top. "Where'd you get this?"
"I don't know," I say without looking up.
"Oh," he puts down whatever he was holding up and fixes his hair in the mirror before spraying more whipped cream into his mouth. I hear him giggle through the whipped cream.
"What are you doing?" I ask him, bringing over a stack of folded clothes to put into the dresser. He shakes his head and goes over to the bed.
"You done?" he asks, lying down on his back.
"Yeah," I sigh and close the drawer. "Why?"
"No reason," he says moving the can to his mouth. A smile spreads across his face like he just got a brilliant idea and he brings the can down to the fly of his plaid shorts, dispensing a mountain of whipped cream right over his crotch.
"Whipped cream erection!" he squeals, throwing his head back in a mad fit of giggles.
"God," I sigh. "Don't get that on my sheets!"
He scrambles up off the bed and giggles his way into the bathroom.
"Sometimes I wonder about you!" I call after him.