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Liza Morris
Liza was far from being in the mood for company. She hadn't wanted to see or talk to anyone after fleeing the Baker matriarch's home, had in fact been so terrified that Wesley wouldn't allow her to leave on her own that she'd been sure she was going to puke right there in the foyer. She almost wished she had done so. It would have been the perfect ending to a shitty, shitty luncheon. It was the first event she had attended that could rightly be called a luncheon, and she was at least a little regretful of it not having gone better. The fact that it hadn't gone well because of her, because of her own stupid actions and impossible to control tongue, had played through her mind over and over again. A week without seeing or speaking to anyone was plenty of solitary time to torture yourself, a lesson she had learned brutally. By the time Melony called her on the eighth day, she was sure she was going crazy. She was tempted to tell Mel not to call, not to bother her again, just so she could have the freedom to completely fall apart without having anyone there to intervene and force her into being sane again. It was the thought of the baby that kept her from doing it. The baby growing inside of her who had zero faults in the messed up circumstances of its conception. The result of this line of thinking was that Melony was coming over, this time without a bottle of wine, to figure out what in the hell was going on. The insistent knocking on her apartment door was all Liza needed to know that her bestie was in one of her moods.
"What is it?" she demanded, barging through the door so forcefully that she almost knocked Liza to the ground. "Tell me what that prick did. If I need to start removing testicles, I will. Don't think I won't." She marched into the middle of the room and looked around carefully as if she expected to find Wesley lurking behind an overstuffed chair somewhere and waiting meekly for his announced castration.
“He didn’t do anything,” Liza answered with a wan smile, “and he isn’t here, just in case you’re wondering.”
"Good. He better not be," Melony said grimly.
"Did you miss the part where I said he didn't do anything wrong?" Liza asked, genuinely smiling now. Melony was a little nuts, but she had to hand it to her – she was the fiercest, most loyal friend a girl could hope for and certainly a good person to have in her corner when things started going sideways.
“No, I didn’t, but I also don’t believe you. Why else would you be so upset?”
"I'm not upset because he did something! I'm upset because I lost my shit, okay? Everything is such a mess, Melony. I've let everything turn into such a goddamn mess." She didn't so much as sit on the couch as fall back into it, sinking down into the cushions and resting her head in her hands. There were no tears, but Liza was certain they would come. She hadn't allowed herself to cry yet, not since finding out that she was pregnant, but it was coming, and when it did she was afraid she might not ever be able to stop them again. Melony sat beside her, uncharacteristically quiet, and put a hand on her back. They sat there together silently, with nothing but the ticking of the clock for a soundtrack, until Liza was reasonably sure she could keep herself together.
“Tell me, lady,” Melony crooned, “tell me what happened and I’ll tell you how we can fix it.”
“I don’t think we can,” Liz answered, feeling both dazed and thoroughly exhausted.
“Of course we can. Everything can be fixed. It’s just a matter of how we go about it,” Mel said.
"I can't tell him. I've tried dozens of times, and I can't get the words past my throat," Liza said miserably. Her apartment was far from cold, but she held her arms wrapped around her tightly. Even in the muggy heat, she shivered. Her mother would have told her a goose had walked over her grave, but Liza was starkly aware of her situation. It was looking into her future that gave her the chills. A future that wasn't looking so hot.
“You haven’t told him about the baby? But don’t you think he’s going to notice at some point? You can't exactly hide something like that.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”
"So are you planning on taking care of it?" Melony asked, hesitating for a change while she spoke. Liza's hands dropped to her side, her hands balled into fists. Even the idea of getting rid of her baby, even discussing it in the theoretical, made her want to fly into a blind fury. She couldn't blame Melony for asking the question, although she wanted to very badly. In a way, she was glad to have her say it again. There wasn't a more definite way of knowing what she wanted to do about the child than hearing someone suggest the unthinkable. At least that one thing was, again, irrevocably clear.
“No way, okay? Never. Don’t even suggest it,” she said, working not to sound too hostile.
“Good. It’s good that you’re so clear on the subject. So then tell me what’s going on? I thought you were planning on having told him by now.”
"I was. I almost did, a couple of times. First, there was the trip to Austin, and then I thought maybe after meeting his family. But the trip was so good I didn't want to mess things up, and the thing with his mom?" she said, cringing at the memory of the terrible get-together.
“Not so hot?” Melony prompted.
"Not even close to hot," Liza agreed, "it was a full-on disaster. I basically told his mom off in front of his brother and his brother's fiancée. Correct me if I'm wrong but telling a lady that she's a shitty mother probably isn't the best way to get on her good side, right?"
“Holy shit, you’re kidding, right?” Melony laughed, slapping her knees hard enough to make Liza jump.
“What do you mean? Kidding about what?”
“Did you actually do that? Because I’m not going to lie, if you did, you’re pretty much my new hero.”
“No way, it was such a stupid thing to do!” Liza moaned.
“So what does Wesley say about the family stuff?” Melony continued. “Did he seem pissed?”
“No, he acted like he was happy about it, but-”
“See? There you go. I told you!” Mel crowed triumphantly. Liza held up a hand in protest.
"You didn't let me finish. That's what he said at the time, but that was a week ago, and I haven't heard from him since. Doesn't sound like somebody who's exactly thrilled to me, does it?"
“Who knows?” Meloy shrugged, “He might be busy. He’s probably busy, in fact. He’s a hotshot tv guy, after all. Just call him and feel it out. And then tell him about the freaking baby before you blow up to the size of a hot air balloon.”
"I can't just call him," Liza said uncertainly. It wasn't that she hadn't thought about doing just that a thousand times over the last seven days, but every time she had told herself not to, that she shouldn't. Now, with Melony suggesting it so easily, she was having trouble remembering why.
"Why not? This isn't the dark ages, and there aren't any rulebooks. Anyone who tells you there are is trying to keep you submissive. Call him up and tell him you want to see him. When you do, tell him about the baby. If he reacts well to that, bang his brains out. Easy peasy."
“Melony!” Liza shrieked, her face a veritable sunset of embarrassment. Melony sighed and stood, dusting her hands off like she had just accomplished some long overdue task.
"What? It's not like I don't know you two have sex. If you were trying to deny it, you slipped up pretty monumentally."
“I know, but-”
“But nothing. The time for prudishness is done. Are you going to do it? Are you going to call him?”
“Yes,” Liza said nervously, really trying the idea on for size even while she answered, “yes, I guess I am.”
“Good! Then my work here is done. Call me if it doesn’t go well. I’ll get my gardening shears and make sure the bastard never fathers another child.”
“What do you mean, call you?” Liza asked, feeling suddenly panicky, “Are you going?”
“Sure I am. I love you but I’m not going to hold your hand through the whole phone call. This is all you, Liza. It’s time for you to be a big girl.”
“You mean you want me to call him right now?” She balked, the blood draining from her face. Just like that, she was back to feeling sick.
"Sure do. No time like the present, right? Just don't chicken out again. If you do, I'm going to tell him myself, and I don't think anyone benefits from that," Melony said laughingly as she sauntered back to Liza's front door. Liza was so stunned she couldn't even think up a protest, and before she could even open her mouth to try one out, Melony was out the door. Liza looked around her tidy apartment, totally at a loss. She could always wait, just keep doing what she had been doing and wait, hoping that Wesley would call her up and she would know nothing was wrong. But the waiting was driving her crazy and now that Melony had planted the idea of bringing it to an end in her head, she was sure she couldn't stand it for a moment longer. She would call him. She would call him and lay it all out there in the open, and if he told her he never wanted to see her again, she would go from there. It would break her heart, but she would survive. She knew that now, and sometimes knowing was all of the strength a woman needed. She was reaching for her phone when she heard another knock on the door.
“No way,” she whispered to herself, momentarily frozen in place. It wouldn’t be Melony coming back for another round of psychologist. That wasn’t her style. There was nobody else she could think of that would be rapping on her door. Nobody else except for...
“Wesley,” she whispered, her face lighting up with a massive smile. “Wesley, is that you?”
It was better, so much better than she could have hoped for. She would open the door, and he would be standing there, maybe even with a bouquet of flowers or something. He would sweep her into his arms, kiss her, and tell her that everything in her world was totally okay. It was a beautiful fantasy, one she would later wish could have lasted for more than only a couple of moments.
“I was just about to-”
“Just about to what? Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t care.”
For the second time that day, Liza was shoved aside as somebody pushed into her apartment. Earlier, she had felt relieved to have her guest. This time, she felt like she was going to burst into flames spontaneously. Her entire body was alight with electricity, and for the first time, she thought she truly understood what it meant to be in the throws of a flight or fight reaction. For her part, she wanted to do both.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, trying to ignore the saliva flooding her mouth and making her feel like she needed to puke. “Why are you in my apartment?”
"Interesting, I was going to ask you why you're spending time with my boyfriend. I guess we both have questions, who would have thought?"
Megan was impossibly beautiful. She was the kind of person nobody really believed was real. Instead, they had disgusted, half-hearted conversations about airbrushing and photoshop while they gorged on the comfort foods that made them feel momentarily better. Liza understood this because she had done it herself on more than one occasion. Now that she was looking at one of said beautiful people in person, though, she knew she had only been lying to herself. All of them had been, all of the naysayers. Some people really were just that beautiful. Some people were so lovely it was almost heartbreaking to look at them, and Wesley's ex just happened to be one of them.
"The two of you aren't together anymore," Liza said slowly. She meant it to sound conversational like she didn't give a shit, but it came out sounding tentative and pathetically weak instead. Megan smirked at her, one hand on her perfectly slim hip. It was a knowing look, the kind that conveyed pity, humor, and disdain all rolled into one.
"Please. Did you honestly think that was going to stick?" she asked, popping bright pink bubblegum between her snow-white teeth.
“He’s through with you. He wanted to get as far away from you as possible,” Liza responded, wishing her response didn’t sound so much like a question.
“Right, and you think he hasn’t said that before?” she quipped.
“I don’t care what he’s said before. He’s through with you.”
"No, sweetheart, he definitely isn't. Do you want to know something? And make sure you mean it if you say yes because this one is going to hurt," Megan said. If Liza didn't know any better, she’d think that the woman was actually sorry. She might have made a good actress, which was what she was trying for if the tabloids were on the mark. It was a convincing persona except for the fact that the sentiment didn't reach her eyes. Those were hard and mean. Vicious, even.
"Tell me," she answered slowly. Her mouth was numb like she'd just come from the dentist and still had a mouth full of novocaine.
"Not only are we back together, we talk about you. He tells me about every little thing you do, and we laugh. Do you hear me? We get together and we laugh at you behind your back."
"Get out. You need to leave my apartment right now. I want you to go, and I don't ever want you to come back," Liza said even more slowly than before. She felt like she was underwater and Megan had just swiped the only life vest. She expected Megan to put up a fight and was relieved when she just turned to go. Then again, there was probably no reason to hang around. She'd done what she had come for. Being succinct was only an added bonus. The girl knew how to get what she wanted. Liza watched her go, then scrambled to the door and turned all of the locks. When that was done, she limped back to the couch and picked up her phone. When the other party picked up, she didn't wait for a hello and didn't offer one of her own.
“I just saw your girlfriend. She came to my apartment. Do you hear me? She came to my apartment, Wesley. I’m done. You and Megan can go find someone else to laugh about before you screw. I don’t ever want to see you again.” She hung up the phone, dropped her head, and wept. After everything, she had finally found her tears.
