Chapter 70

I knew I needed to confront Tammy about whether or not she squealed my address to Joshua. I visited Maria for my lunch break (ignoring Reuben’s puppy dog eyes on my back as I left) to talk to her about it, not for advice, but just to, I don’t know, pump myself up for it? After all, I took the cake when it came to avoiding people, especially if drama was involved.

But if I was looking for encouragement, I got none, as the moment Maria heard my suspicions, she went up in a plume of fire.

“Like hell she did!”

“I don’t know if she did or not—”

“Of course she did! She’d even been texting me about talking to you about giving that asshole a chance, all ‘it could be a misunderstanding!’ Pah! What the hell misunderstanding is there when you’re caught with your dick in another woman’s cunt?”

I full body winced. If anyone else had said that, Maria would have fired them for indecency. Hypocrisy aside, we weren’t alone on the twelfth-floor break room. Maria’s co-workers had shut up like a snapped door and were staring. One had a strip of salami hanging from her mouth half-chew.

“But she’s still our friend—” I tried, paired with the ‘ease down’ hands one would use to hush a spooked horse.

But this spooked horse had rolling eyes and bared white. “Nuh-uh, you ain’t pulling your too-nice crap here! Put that sandwich down, we’re hunt’n that bitch.”

“She’s our friend!”

“She’s a snitch!”

And since Maria was already across the room and in the hall by then (damn her long legs), the only choice I had to salvage any of this was to scuttle after her. Though I took the sandwich. Baby Bean responded to hunger with nausea these days.

How Maria knew exactly where to find Tammy at this hour I could only guess came from her job in Human Resources. We went down to the second basement, Maria heating up the elevator with only her eyes the entire way. Every time the elevator opened to take new passengers (who would then conveniently change their minds about coming in), I considered bailing. But even I, anti-social coward that I was, knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I set Maria off on Tammy without so much as making sure Tammy even had a part to play in it. I wasn’t a gossip. No lies, yo.

A poor green metal door got Maria’s heel. The bang of it hitting the wall made the three janitors inside jump with a yell. Tammy, the only female and the youngest, straight on screamed, her Big Mac gone flying.

“You!” growled Maria, long manicured nail leveled on the frizzy blond.

“Me?” squeaked Tammy.

“Did you or did you not give Alaina’s address to he-who-we-must-not-named?”

Tammy blinked doefully behind her round glasses, which magnified her watery blue eyes to chibi proportions. “Um, if we must not name him, how do I—”

“Joshua Conrad! Yes or no!”

She seemed to wither on her chair, pulling her knees and arms in.

Meanwhile, the other two janitors sitting at her table, middle-aged men with questionable taste in facial hair fashion, did their best to look invisible. One even half turned in his seat as though to hide his sandwich.

Tammy muttered something.

“Speak up!”

“Maria, this is too much,” I started, unnerved by how small my blond friend had become. “We don’t even know for sure—”

“Yes.”

I clamped my mouth closed at Tammy’s answer.

Her watery eyes behind her glasses were on me rather than the growling leopard which was Maria.

“I thought he deserved to get his side of the story out,” she said, voice shaking. “Especially since he loves you so much, and since you, well, have a baby together now…”

Both Maria and I gave a stunned pause. I didn’t even have to look at Maria to know, for once, we were on the exact same page.

“That isn’t something for you to decide!” I cried. “For one—”

“It ain’t his baby!” shrieked Maria over me.

Tammy balked. “Wh-what?”

The janitor who’d been trying to hide his sandwich got up at this point. His colleague did as well, and they made a beeline for the door behind us, scuttling along the sides like escaping rats. Tammy watched them go for only a second before her quivering gaze fell back on us.

“It’s not…how can it not be? You got pregnant—”

“I had my period after I broke up with him,” I said.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” quipped Maria.

Tammy blinked. “Maybe it was implanting bleeding—”

“It was a big one,” I growled. “Seven days, loads of blood, tons of stress bleeding, the worst.”

“The worst!” crowed Maria, totally taking on the role of yes-man now that she’d finally gotten me on her side.

“But you don’t have—”

“I slept with another guy!” I said (too loudly). “At the club, because you two suck at taking your friend out drinking and making sure she doesn’t get taken advantage of!”

Now it was Maria’s turn to wilt. “Girl, I didn’t—”

“This isn’t about you,” I snapped. I was on a roll now that the bitter ice of betrayal had settled itself in my lungs. “Nor is it about you.” I pointed at Tammy. “Getting your nose into other people’s business so you can feel like a saint! Joshua’s been camping on my doorstep since you gave him my address, and he won’t leave me the hell alone! Also, when you told my mom I was pregnant, that was also not your place!”

Tammy whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve always been like this though! Even back in high school, you were always the worst at telling secrets to the last person who should hear them!”

“I was just trying to help—”

“You were satisfying your urge to micromanage! If you wanted to help, you would have stayed sober at the club and spent the time at my side instead of dancing with manhoes. You would have visited me; you would have asked me more about how I was doing—”

“You haven’t told us anything!” broke in Maria.

“You never asked! You know where I live. You could have visited or called or anything. You know how I am! Busy as hell, anti-social, hide in a closet, but you have plenty of time to talk to each other about me behind my back!”

Both Maria and Tammy now stared at me, stunned. I didn’t blame them. I’d never been one for yelling or being aggressive in general. I was a laid-back personality who avoided drama and conflict like the plague. One might even call me a coaster friend, the kind you’d drink with or go to rant about your life while they nodded and patted your back.

“Are you seriously blaming us for you getting pregnant?” said Maria, with the low rumble of her tell-tale anger returning.

“It’s still my pie, but you certainly have a piece of it.”