Tilly
Jealousy wasn’t Tilly’s thing.
Yet here she was, on the couch, staring at her watch. While Evie was with Luke. Telling him she was pregnant.
Jealousy was an ugly emotion. Something that ate away at you. And when it came to Evie, Tilly never did it. Evie deserved good things in her life. Funny, nice people. That girl in the pirate costume incident was someone Tilly had set her up with. The guy Evie had dated for two years after university had also become a friend of Tilly’s, to the point they used to go drinking together. Jaya, a super laid-back person with a purple streak in their hair, was with Evie for over a year and Tilly still thought they were the coolest person she’d ever met.
Jealousy played no role in Tilly’s life. She didn’t have any claim on Evie just because she had far too many feelings squirming in her chest, wrapping around and around each other to become a tangled mess that Tilly wasn’t even sure how to start picking apart. She had no right to resent anyone in Evie’s life, and would never want to stand in the way of anyone Evie had feelings for because Tilly was never going to step forward—especially now—and how dare she ever therefore wish that Evie wouldn’t date.
Their friendship was solid. A solid rock that Tilly’s entire universe often revolved around. When she was away, with cities new or foreign rising up around her, her thoughts always came back to Evie. She knew that what they had was safe. Secure. They were each other’s people: Sean, Evie, and Tilly.
All that said, though: she did not like this Luke person.
He’d smiled at Evie as if he saw exactly how great she was. He’d leaned into her personal space and Evie hadn’t leaned away. Rather, she’d responded, angling in a little, and her laugh had reached their table and Tilly had swallowed.
Hard.
She had swallowed down that rock of jealousy in the very centre of that tangled web of emotion sitting in her chest and tried to drown it. Because she had no right to it, and it did her no good. It did Evie no good. It did that baby no good.
Because really, that rock wasn’t there because Luke had smiled at Evie and Evie had smiled back. It wasn’t there because they clearly got along and clearly liked each other. It wasn’t there because he’d got to touch Evie, to pull her shirt away from her shoulders and press his lips to the freckled skin there. To trace his fingers down her neck and over her clavicle.
Evie had had serious partners. Tilly didn’t get jealous over that.
The jealousy was because of what Evie and Luke could be together. That baby would make them a solid unit—it would all be theirs and Tilly had no right, zero right, to feel jealous about that.
Because Evie deserved someone to do this with, if that was what she wanted.
Last night, Sean had seen all of that.
“How’re you doing?” Sean’s question had been so quiet she could barely hear it over the music and chatter.
Even now, the memory of that look made her chest tight.
Sean wasn’t allowed to be sympathetic. He was the hard-ass. He did not empathise with her because he was the reminder that Tilly was too irresponsible for all of this.
She’d just whispered at him, “Stop that.”
The look hadn’t gone away.
Asking her how she was doing had been far, far worse that the question in the restaurant.
“Tilly.”
“Stop that.”
He’d stared at her, a furrow between his brows and his eyes painted with concern and, really, she much preferred it when he didn’t do that.
“Please?” she’d murmured.
He’d nodded. “I’ve missed you.”
That, she’d been able to deal with. Sorry wasn’t what he would say, because he wasn’t. He’d never be sorry for pushing her, or calling her on her bullshit. And she’d never say sorry for being what she was.
“Me too,” she’d said.
And that, at least, meant the two of them would be okay.
Her gaze had gone back to the two at the bar, Evie pushing her phone back into her bag and Luke’s eyes lingering on her as she walked away. If Tilly closed her eyes now, she could still see the look in his eyes. And the look in Sean’s when she’d turned back to him.
They would be okay. They always were. They knew that.
But this entire situation?
None of them knew how that was going to go.
Tilly let out a huge sigh. She was getting forlorn lying here all alone on the couch. Her phone beeped, saving her from herself. It was a message in their group chat from Sean:
Colin’s banana cake was taken today. Latest victim of The Fridge Thief. NO! The Fridge Burglar. NO! The Lunch Poacher. Yes, The Lunch Poacher struck again. Subtly going past other people’s offices to see if I can smell banana.
Tilly chuckled, tapping out a reply:
Any luck? Love the name.
His reply came quickly:
None. Standby for updates. Thinking of dusting for fingerprints.
The door slammed open and Evie’s voice rang out. “Okay!”
Tilly jumped so hard she dropped her phone on her face. She popped up to look over the back of the couch so she could see Evie in the doorway, rubbing her forehead. “You scared the living hell out of me!” Tilly said. Though she was relieved, as she’d definitely been getting emo.
“Sorry.” Evie bundled in, kicking the door shut behind her. “Okay. I did it. He knows.”
“Are you okay?” Tilly asked.
Hair frizzed out of Evie’s bun and her cheeks were flushed. “I—I dunno. I felt like I was in a high school movie, telling the boy I was knocked up.”
Tilly grimaced. “More, you know, the adult movie, telling the man you’re knocked up.”
Evie froze, caught between smiling and raising her eyebrows.
Tilly’s eyes widened. “Adult movie like movie for adults, not a teen film! Not an adult movie like a porno, Christ.”
“That would be a bad porn.”
“The anti-porn.”
Evie laughed, then shifted back to looking panicked. Tilly shuffled over a little and Evie plopped next to her, one leg drawn up under her. “Hi.”
“Hey. So. How did it go?” Tilly gave her a smile and hoped it wasn’t obvious she’d been obsessing over how it went. She could be the supportive best friend. That was what she always did.
“Weird?” said Evie. “But good? I mean, as good as can be expected?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Evie leaned against the back of the couch, putting her arm up and resting her head in her hand. “I kind of, cut straight to the chase. I think he thought it was a date. Which I can’t blame him for, considering how I set it up. So, I told him straight away and he did that movie thing where he stared with his mouth open and not blinking for a full minute.”
“Smooth.”
Evie laughed, nervousness still running through the sound. “Yeah. He was thinking coffee, a nice date…wham, pregnancy. Poor guy.”
Poor him? But Tilly kept her thoughts to herself. What mattered was how Evie felt.
“But the first thing he asked was if I was okay. Which was, you know, nice.”
It was the least he could do. “Did he ask if you were sure it was his?” Tilly kept her voice neutral.
“Of course. But he did it nicely, I guess. Not judgy. He worded it all, ‘I’m guessing it’s mine, since you’re telling me?’ Or something like that.”
When Evie mimicked him, she sat a bit straighter, wriggling her shoulders and her eyebrows, dropping her voice. It was, to put it mildly, adorable.
“Well, that’s less douchey than it could have been,” Tilly said. “Still, I feel the question wasn’t necessary.”
Evie shrugged. “Can’t blame him for checking.”
“Hm.”
Tilly wanted to give in to the desperation crawling up her throat and ask exactly what he’d said. What they’d said. What they would do, together. Would they do it together? Did Evie want to do it together?
But every one of those questions left ice in her veins, pulsing to her limbs, to the tips of her fingers, and she found they died on her tongue. Tilly could only say, “And after that?”
“I told him that it had taken me a bit to tell him because I was figuring it out. Then I told him that I was keeping it, and it was up to him how much he wanted to be involved. That I wasn’t going to come after him for child support if he didn’t want to be involved, and not even necessarily if he did. That that was all something we’d have to talk about and work out.” Evie gave an unamused sounding laugh. “His eyes kept getting wider and wider as I talked. All the stuff I’ve had two months to think about I just threw at him. I feel a bit bad.”
Tilly didn’t. It must have shown on her face. Not that she was trying to hide it.
Evie could tell. “Tilly!” She crossed her arms. “Come on. You don’t feel a little bad for the guy, getting all this dumped on him at once?”
“Eh. I, well…” How to put this delicately? Her palms were clammy thinking about all of this. Maybe she was biased, but… “I mean, in theory, yes. It’s a lot all at once and for him it’s come completely out of the blue. But, I mean, you’re the one who’s spent months feeling nauseated and confused and overwhelmed. You’re the one who had to find the courage to tell this near-stranger that you flirted with a few times and slept with once this life-altering news. You’re the one who is growing this baby you didn’t plan on and had to make the final decision and now has to wait for someone to figure out what they want, what level of involvement. So…yeah. In theory, poor dude. But in reality? Poor you. Well,” Tilly rushed on, “not ‘poor you’ like I pity you. But I have a lot more empathy for you in this than him.”
Evie had sat up as Tilly talked, letting her hand drop down to her lap and watching Tilly ramble on, head tilted and eyes unreadable. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”
“What? Of course I have. I—You’re my best friend. I’ve seen this turn your world upside down.”
Evie swallowed. “I guess… I haven’t let myself think that because there was no point. But I’ve… I don’t know? Felt it?” Her hand came up to rest against her chest, fingers digging into the material a little. She dropped her head for a second, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. When she lifted her head again her eyes were red, and Tilly’s hand flew out and clasped her knee at the sight of tears. But then Evie laughed, the sound thick and smothered. “I’m sorry. I guess… When someone puts things into words that you’ve not let yourself feel, but have been there? It…resonated?”
“Evie…” And Tilly pushed forward, their legs and knees bumping between them, and Evie met her halfway, their foreheads pushing together, hands coming up to grab at forearms.
Evie’s other hand still clung to her own shirt, as if she was trying to hold her emotions in her chest. She sniffled.
“Hey,” said Tilly. “You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. Or like this is all unfair.”
“It really is unfair.” Evie said it so indignantly, as if she’d finally been allowed to.
“It is!” Their noses bumped and Tilly squeezed her eyes shut, holding her as close as she could.
“I hadn’t even thought about how I wanted to do this, but now it’s happening…this…” Evie’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “This isn’t how I would have chosen it.”
“I know,” Tilly murmured. “And that’s okay to be mad about, or sad about, or annoyed about.” Tilly drew on some words a therapist had once told her. “You’re allowed to feel however you need to about a situation as life-altering as this. It’s all valid.”
Not exactly the most philosophical advice, but sometimes one needed to feel validated.
“Yeah?” Evie drew in a shuddering breath. “It is?”
“It is.”
“Okay.”
Evie pulled back a little, looking up at the ceiling as she ran her fingers under her eyes and then her cheeks, swiping tears across her chin. “Shit, I cry at anything at the moment. Anything.”
“I know. I watched you sob at that ad with the puppy.”
“It was cute!”
“Yes, it was.”
“But that was it. Nothing happened. It was only cute.” Her eyes welled up again and she spoke through a stuffy nose just at the memory. “It was so cute.”
Tilly bit her lip. “It really was cute, it’s true.”
“Now you’re laughing at me.”
“I’m not.”
She really was.
“Are too.”
Tilly gave up and let herself laugh. “It’s, like, ninety-nine per cent because of how adorable you are.”
Evie managed a strangled little laugh at herself before she flopped down, twisting and wriggling on her back and laying her head in Tilly’s lap. Tilly’s hand automatically went to her hair, running her fingers through the strands.
“So, you up for telling me how the rest of coffee went?”
Evie rubbed under her eyes again before dropping her hands to her stomach, her palm running over the tighter skin and eyes on the little bump. “I told him to take some time and think about it and let me know. And I asked for as much open communication as he could give me. That was it, really. He had a lot of questions about it all and then stopped partway and said he’ll spend some time on Google, which was nice because I really don’t feel up to rehashing information.”
Something heavy was in Tilly’s chest. Not exactly that jealousy, but something that weighed her down, weighed down those tangled feelings she kept at bay. Something that almost tasted like dread rose up on her tongue.
But she kept running her fingers through Evie’s hair.
“I guess we’ll see,” Evie said.
Tilly cleared her throat softly, hoping it would clear away that feeling. “Do you want him involved?”
She looked up from her belly then, straight up in Tilly’s lap, eyes bright after the tears, face thoughtful. “Honestly? I don’t know. I think…” She was whispering again. “I think what I want I can’t really have.”
Tilly’s fingers stalled against her forehead, the skin warm and soft and flushed. Evie’s eyes stayed on her, her forehead scrunched up, and Tilly slowly ran her fingers over the lines until they relaxed, eyes not leaving Evie’s, full and wide.
“What do you think you can’t have?” Tilly murmured. That dread was thick on her tongue, fear burning up her throat at this line of conversation that came from nowhere.
Evie blinked, slow and lazy, eyes staying closed for a fraction of a second before she opened them again. She smiled, delicate and dangerous. “I don’t know.”
The quiet words had the sound of deception behind them, but Tilly didn’t really know in what way. And then those eyes were widening.
“Tilly!”
“What?”
Evie was grabbing at her hand, yanking it down to her stomach. “Do you feel that?” She pressed her palm up under her shirt, against the heated, smooth skin of her lower stomach. The roundness sat against Tilly’s hand, a perfect curve for her hand to cup.
They lay completely still, Evie staring straight up at her.
Then, “There,” Evie said. “That?”
Tilly shook her head, unable to keep a smile at bay at the excitement on Evie’s face. “No.”
Evie’s eyes flickered with a touch of disappointment, but the smile on her lips was wide. “It’s so small it’s barely anything. I read that it would take me a while to notice it, and longer until anyone else could feel it. But still.” And she was still grinning, right up at her, her hand pressed over Tilly’s, Tilly’s hand warm against Evie’s skin. “Under your palm, the baby’s moving and I can feel it.” She laughed, a sound filled with wonder, and Tilly couldn’t help but grin back.
They stayed like that, the baby moving underneath both their skin and Tilly feeling as if she were cupping the world in her hand, the ghost of a sensation against her palm and a lump in her throat.
* * *
“Brett,” Sean supplied. “Tamara. Bruce?”
Evie smirked. “When I hear Bruce all I think of is Finding Nemo.”
“Ah. Yeah.” Sean sucked on his milkshake and Tilly burrowed further into her towel on the hot sand. “Phil?”
The sun beat down on them, the waves crashing against the shore metres away from them on the white sand. Some gulls were circling overhead, apparently interested in their name conversation. Or the few chips left in the bottom of the box, soaking in leftover vinegar and salt.
“What about Emily?” Tilly suggested. “Alex. Tyler. Ryder. Wren.”
Sean perked up. “Bobby?” He paused. “Oh! Taylor is gender neutral? Lots of cool Taylors in the world.”
Evie looked at them both from under the beach umbrella. “Names are hard, you two. I was thinking of some Shanghainese names, even. I’d really like the baby to have the surname Chen, at least. I like that connection.”
“Great last name. But first names are hard.” Sean rolled onto his stomach, pushing his milkshake into the sand so it would stay up on its own. “You could go with Sean and Matilda.”
Tilly grinned. “I second that.”
Evie rolled her eyes. “Yes, because both of you need the ego boost.”
Sean side-eyed Tilly, dropping his hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”
“I couldn’t hear it through my arrogance. What did she say?” Tilly asked.
Sean snorted.
Evie rolled her eyes. “Look, in the fear of pumping up either of your giant heads even more, I have a question for you both.”
Tilly tore her eyes away from the glittering ocean where she’d let them wander and looked to Evie. “What’s up?”
“Will you both come to Christmas dinner with my family soon?”
Sean sat up. “Like, the Christmas dinner? The dinner you tell them about the baby?”
Evie sighed. “Yes. That dinner. A few weeks before Christmas Day.”
“Of course.” He looked to Tilly, who leaned forward.
“Yeah, of course.” Tilly winced. “Do you have any idea how it’ll go?”
“I mean… My mum’s not stuck in the Dark Ages. She’s fine with me being queer. But I think admitting to them this was from a one-night stand with a guy who is figuring out how involved he wants to be is…awkward. I want you there for moral support.”
“Like we said, of course.”
As if Tilly wouldn’t go. Or Sean. Besides, Evie’s mum loved them all. She often watched Sean’s rowing competitions alongside Sean’s parents and made extra potstickers for Tilly.
Tilly swallowed and pushed her sunglasses up on her head. “You know we’ll be there.”