“Maybe we should look at some other places. My landlord is being a dick and he says I have until the end of December to get out. That only give me two months ya know.” She sounded almost accusatory; as though it were my fault she was getting evicted.

“How was your doctor’s appointment?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Eh. Okay I guess. The doctor was a little worried because the baby doesn’t seem to be growing the way it should be. He read me the riot act because I was still smoking. I told him to shove it. What the f**k does he know about me or my baby?” she scoffed.

“Well he is a doctor, Dania. It’s sort of what he went to school for. Those extra four years do give him some insight into what he’s talking about,” I couldn’t help but say. And I knew instantly it was the wrong choice of words.

“Of course you’d side with the doctor, Ellie! You never have my back anymore. You judge me just like everyone else in this f**ked up town!” she screeched into the phone.

“Sheesh, Dania. I was just saying you should probably listen to the doctor. You want your baby to be healthy right?” I asked, trying to placate her and smooth out the situation.

“Fuck this stupid baby! It’s ruined my f**king life! I just want it out! And then I can get rid of it like I should have done when I found out I was pregnant!” she screamed.

I almost dropped the phone. Her vicious bile towards the innocent child in her belly left me cold.

“Are you saying you’re giving him up for adoption?” I asked carefully, making sure to call the baby “he” instead of “it.” Dania needed to be reminded that this baby was a person whether she wanted him or not.

“I don’t f**king know, Ellie! I get a hell of a lot of benefits for having a baby. Did you know I could get an extra $1500 a month from the state? And I can get on WIC, which will pay for my groceries. And social services will even help me pay for the apartment and childcare. I could use the cash, Ells.”

My temper spiked. This was her entire motivation for keeping the baby? So she could get extra money from the government. Was she serious?

“Wow, that’s very selfless of you,” I deadpanned, trying to rein in my anger.

“Shut up, Ellie. You’ll be thanking me when I’m getting that money every month to pay for our rent. So don’t give me any of your holier than thou bullshit!”

I didn’t want her money. I didn’t want her goddamned drama. I didn’t want to sit by and watch her screw up her baby’s life the way my mother and her mother had screwed up ours.

“I’ve got to go,” I said, needing to end our conversation before I said something I couldn’t take back.

“I miss you, Ells. I never see you anymore. How about I bring you a sundae during your shift at JAC’s tonight? With hot fudge and sprinkles, just how you like it,” Dania said sweetly, her mood doing a 180.

“You don’t need to bribe me with ice cream, Dania,” I told her tiredly.

I heard her sigh on the other end. “You’re my best friend, Ellie. We’ve always had each other’s backs. In high school, you were the one who slashed Stu’s tires when I caught him cheating on me. And I was the one who came and visited you every weekend when you were in juvie. We do things for each other. That’s what friends do,” she reminded me.

What she had just described sounded more like an episode of a bad talk show than a healthy friendship. When she put it like that, it made me realize how shitty our relationship had always been. We fed off the worst of each other.

But she did say one thing that was true.

We had always been there for each other.

Though I’m not sure that had done either of us any good.

“Okay, bring me a sundae,” I gave in.

“I will! Maybe even a milkshake too,” she enthused and I could only shake my head, though she couldn’t see me.

“See ya,” I said and hung up the phone. I felt drained. Talking to Dania was hard at the best of times. But now, with my life changing in slow, incremental ways, I was finding it even more difficult to be around her.

Because now when I looked at my friend, I only saw a person I never wanted to be.

I looked at the time and realized I only had forty-five minutes until I was supposed to meet Flynn at the community college. He had been after me to sit in on his workshop. I had agreed, knowing how much it meant to him.

He was nervous. He spent most of last evening writing notes down on paper and saying them over and over again until he memorized them. He asked me to walk him through a mock workshop. I told him I didn’t know anything about art.

He had gotten upset and I had to calm him down and promise him I’d help him. He wasn’t expecting to talk much. The students were going to watch him as he made a series of simple sculptures. The art teacher was planning to explain the concepts while he worked.

I didn’t see what the big deal was, but this was Flynn we were talking about and his nerves were through the roof.

“Mom and Kevin used to help me with this stuff. They’d walk me through things that made me nervous until I felt comfortable. Mom would write things down. But they’re not here,” he had said as he rubbed his hands together.

“I can do that, Flynn. I can make sure you feel comfortable. Can you trust me to do that?” I had asked him.

Flynn had stopped rubbing his hands and nodded. “I always trust you, Ellie,” he had said and I felt the enormity of that statement again. His trust was a gift and there were moments when I felt ill equipped to handle the significance of it.