Foto bij 578 - Emma

I've thought of about a million ways to tell Kenna, but none seem adequate.
Tom has left with Emilia as per my request, and I've made my way into their house with my key, finding Kenna in their tiny yard. It's a surprisingly sunny day for this time in March, and she's watering her lavender plants.
"Hello lovely lady," the warm sun feels nice on my skin. "Keeping busy I see?"
Weirdly enough, I'd swear I spot a little bump, though we must be about equally far along now, and Lucien has told me nothing about my stomach screams pregnant.
"Oh, yes," she smiles, putting the watering can down. "Can't quite sit down for too long, makes my stomach turn. Lovely pregancy symptoms."
I keep myself from agreeing with her, biting my tongue to stop the words from spilling out immediately. "I brought paninis," I hold up the white paper bag from our favourite bakery downtown. "And juices."
"You're the best," she beams, sitting down with me in their lounge chairs outside.
She grins wide when I hand her the tuna melt. "Ah, my favourite." Something I can't say, because the smell makes me nauseous immediately, but I know her tuna craving.
I pick at my caprese panini, dripping in pesto, and put tiny pieces in my mouth a time. The tomato dangerously dangles from the edge, and though I would usually throw it out, I now eat it without any distaste.
"I'm sorry," Kenna seems to notice it, fishing a piece of tomato out of the piece I'm about to put in my mouth, holding it out in front of me. "Are you okay? This is tomato. You hate tomato, especially when it's not cooked."
"I'm just... trying new things," I shrug, not technically lying but also not telling the truth. The simple thought of a slice of tomato used to make me want to puke, now I actually wanted some on my bread.
"What's next, you're going to enjoy-," her eye catches the glass bottles of juice with their ingredients printed on them. "Green juices? Is that a green juice, with spinach and celery? Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?"
"I'm still me," I chuckle. "Though you're right, something has changed."
"I'm listening," she tells me, her head a little tilted as she twirls a melted cheese string around her finger.
From my bag that I've placed on the floor, I take the pink envelope that's been in one of my albums for years.
"Is that what I think it is?" her eyes go wide.
I open it up, exposing the pink paper Kenna used to have in her math notebook in our second year of high school, when we had just titled ourselves best friends. "In ten years," I read, "we promise to still be friends. We promise to still spend time together every week. We promise to celebrate birthdays and holidays together. When we get married, before we turn thirty, we will be each other's maid of honour. Our children will be best friends, and we will have them at the same time, so we can share everything together."
She smiles, a twinkle of a tear in her eye, probably just as sentimental as I am. "Well," she laughs. "We sure still are best friends, and we managed to do most of the other things, too. Only someone," she pokes my cheek with her cheese covered finger, "didn't keep her end of the baby bargain."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," I say, our eyes immediately meeting.
"Ha, ha," she sarcastically laughs. "Funny." She smiles, though something in her eyes tells me she doubts that statement, even if it's just one percent.
"Ken," I tell her, my face serious. "I'm not joking."
"Don't play with me like this, Emma," she states, a hint of a tremble in her voice. "I'm not in the right emotional headspace for that right now, I'm pregnant."
"So am I," I tell her, smiling with tears in my eyes.
"Are you really?" her eyes are wide, and there's tears in them as well. "Emma, are you really?" She asks again if I don't answer within a second.
"I am," my lip trembles a little as I watch my best friend deal with the news. "Ten weeks now."
She pulls me into a hug faster than I can fathom, her breath heavy as she cries what I suppose are happy tears. There's no words for a good minute, we just cry together.
"We're pregnant!" she then laughs in between sobs, taking my face in her hands. "You and me!"
We must look dramatic right now, make-up smeared. "We are."
"My god, I can't believe it! How... when... what?"
"I've known for about two weeks now, but I couldn't... well, we really had to deal with it ourselves first," I say apologetically. "It was quite a surprise, to say the least."
Her hands squeeze mine tightly. "Two weeks! You've known for two whole weeks?"
"I'm sorry, I really wanted to tell you, I just..."
She shakes her head. "I'm not upset, not at all! I understand. I just... I can't believe it! So... around Valentines day, when I told you, you were also pregnant?"
"Very much so," I confirm. "I just didn't find out until days later."
"My god, we're pregnant at the same time!" she cheerfully smiles. "We'll both have babies after the Summer! I can't believe it, this is wonderful. How are you? How's the nausea? Oh, you're going to look so gorgeous! You're glowing already, goodness, imagine you with a bump! And Lucien as a dad, how exciting! We can go shopping together, buy cribs, clothes! Oh, shared baby showers! I can't believe it, I really can't, this is the best!"

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