TWENTY-THREE

"...And I think you should come live with me

And we can be pirates

Then you won't have to cry..."

———

"What about Peanut for a nickname?"

"No way."

"Why not!"

"Because in case you haven't noticed, I still want to like peanuts!"

"Are you implying that you don't like your child?"

"No. But that doesn't mean he or she won't do something to change that,"

"Thea!"

"What? Don't all parents dislike their kid at some point?"

"Maybe. But I'm pretty sure they try not to say it out loud,"

Dorothea laughed sharply. "If only you knew Heather ten years ago."

"Heather Madison?" Taylor asked, looking at the girl across the backseat of the SUV. "The lovely southern woman I met last month, who thinks the only way to like a photo on Instagram is to tap the heart in the corner?"

Dorothea smirked, bringing the plastic lid covering her chai tea to her lips. "Dean and Maeve were little shits," she explained.

"And what about you?" Taylor lifted an eyebrow.

"I was perfect."

"Of course you were." She rolled her eyes while the other woman continued smiling to herself.

Taylor looked out the window, then down at the time on her phone. They still had another few blocks to go before they would arrive at Dr. Marshall's office and she was nervous they were going to be late. They didn't have time to stop for coffee, but they did anyway. Thanks to Dorothea convincing her to stay up another hour—"to have sex, pretty PRETTY please!"—she very much needed the caffeine, and of course, she was now the one stressing, as opposed to the woman who the appointment was actually for.

Dorothea was still smiling to herself as she played with the paper sleeve on her to-go cup. "My vote is still on Blood-Sucker."

"No." Right as Taylor expressed her disapproval of the nickname —for what must have been the fifteenth time in the past half hour— her phone chimed multiple times. She already knew it was her mother, who had been texting her nonstop the last few days with the anticipation of their approaching arrival in Nashville. Taylor had planned the visit months in advance as a solo trip, though things had clearly changed since then. To be understanding, she had given Dorothea the option to join her, but she agreed anyway. She immediately sensed that the girl was nervous at the prospect of meeting the most important woman in her life. But then her next question came seconds later, so unexpectedly that Taylor found herself scrambling for an answer.

"She knows we're dating, right?"

Taylor's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. Then Dorothea laughed, adding, "Taylor, I've heard your phone calls."

"Thea—"

The brunette cut her off with another laugh. "More importantly, does she know about Satan Junior, here?"

"Stop saying that!" Taylor hit the other woman, who was still giggling. "And yes. She does."

Dorothea's laughter faded a few moments later. She looked up at her, eyes soft and sincere. "How does she feel about that?" She asked.

"She was surprised when I told her," Taylor replied honestly, "but she also said it's been a long time since she's seen me this happy."

While Taylor responded to her mother's inquiry about their flight, she now heard the younger woman's phone go off several times, as well. Dorothea made a strange noise, causing her to look up from her own device. "Should I be worried?" Taylor asked.

The brunette shook her head. "It's just Matt. He's asking if I want to keep the couch in the living room," she chuckled, the clicking sound of her typing mixing in. "I'm telling him only if I can light it on fire later."

"Quite a harsh sentence for a piece of furniture," Taylor mused.

"It's hideous," Dorothea reasoned. She then added quietly, "And it deserves it."

Taylor smiled but didn't say anything. While they were on their way to the appointment, several of her team members had arrived at Dorothea's St. Mark's place to begin the process of moving her out. Most of the furniture was rented, so what remained of personal belongings and clothes would be brought over to Taylor's apartment. Dorothea seemed excited, but Taylor also detected a sense of loss. Regardless of her current situation, it was clear that the memories of the place would continue to keep their grip on the younger woman for a long time.

"Looks clear, everybody," Ted, who was sitting in the passenger seat, announced as they pulled into a slot next to the curb.

"Thank god," Taylor sighed, undoing her seatbelt.

"Isn't it a little early in the day for paps?" Dorothea questioned.

"You'd be surprised." Taylor laughed stiffly, following the girl out of the car.

The pair walked up to the stone-clad building and through the set of glass doors held open by her security guard. Inside, the lobby was encased in old marble and wood, and was as quiet as a church. Their footsteps seemed silent as they passed the bronze directory on the wall to the bank of elevators. Taylor could feel the brunette tense inside the elevator as it whizzed noiselessly to the twelfth floor. She saw the woman stealing glances at her reflection in the mirrored space—her bump—but pretended not to notice and instead wrapped her arms around her.

Once they arrived at the office, it was like they were back in the present. Modern furniture, trendy earth-toned paint, light wood floors, and well-kept plants, along with the sleek technology that characterized any Park Avenue doctor's office.

While Dorothea checked in with the receptionist, Taylor found a seat in the waiting area. There was another woman, about thirty or so, sitting on the opposite side of the space with a very restless toddler. She smiled at the lady when their eyes met, but she could tell she was stressed. In addition to trying to control her kid—who was flinging an iPad around that played some sort of cartoon far too loudly, and was dangerously close to falling off his seat—she was visibly uncomfortable from her very pregnant belly. Taylor felt sympathetic, as though suddenly understanding the weight of what the future held. Although she'd certainly thought about it plenty of times before.

When Dorothea sat down next to her, she leaned over and whispered, "This place seems far from your apartment. Were you always coming up here?"

"Mhm," Dorothea hummed. "Dr. Marshall's a friend of another friend of Maeve's."

"Ah. Right, your sister's an OB-GYN,"

"Getting there,"

"That's like, perfect. I mean, having a family member who can answer any of your questions? I feel like a lot of women would be jealous."

"Ew, no." Dorothea made a face. "I'd never talk to her about that stuff."

"What do you mean?" Taylor gave a confused laugh.

"She's my sister!"

"Thea, she's literally a doctor!"

"Not yet."

"You're such a weirdo."

"Because I don't want to talk about my vagina with my sister?"

Right as Taylor was about to respond, Dorothea was called back to one of the exam rooms. The pair followed a woman in colorful scrubs down an adjacent hallway and into a space that was painted a serene, pale blue. After the nurse took down Dorothea's weight, blood pressure, and a few other vitals, they sat quietly while waiting for Dr. Marshall to arrive. The younger woman was picking at the paper covering the exam table, but Taylor became intrigued by all of the posters hanging on the walls.

She pointed at one right next to Dorothea's head. "That's what Peanut looks like right now."

The brunette's brow furrowed as she looked in the direction. "'Size of a lemon'," she read, then glanced down at her stomach and lifted her shirt.

"Seems a lot smaller," Taylor commented.

"That's because all of my organs are getting pushed out of the way,"

"Damn."

"Apparently the real estate's tight in there." Dorothea smirked, then pointed at a poster with an image of  —very— detailed female anatomy. "Reminds me of that thing you said I couldn't do the other night—"

"Hi there," Dr. Marshall slipped into the room, earning a beat of stunned silence between the pair. They seemed to be caught in those moments quite often. "Thea, so glad you could make it this time." She turned to Taylor and smiled, "And you have company this time! I'm so glad, with all of your family so far away. I'm Dr. Marshall."

"Hi, I'm Taylor." She stuck her hand out to shake the older woman's.

The doctor smiled in that, I think she is, but I'm not sure, but I think she is and I'm not going to say anything-way, that Taylor had grown used to when meeting new people. "Well, it's lovely to meet you. And it's so nice of you to be here for Dorothea."

Taylor smiled and looked at her girlfriend, who was suddenly being respectfully quiet. Dorothea had completely transformed into sweet southern-mode, as she politely answered the doctor's questions. It made her feel special, knowing that what the brunette shared with her was more spontaneous; personal. Though she was absolutely charming, either way.

"So, you're nearly at the Second Trimester," Dr. Marshall noted. "Hopefully not feeling quite as sick?"

"No, thankfully," Dorothea sighed. "I was throwing up every day up until about a week ago."

"I wish I could say otherwise, but that's common for some. Glad to hear it's gotten better, though." Dr. Marshall smiled at Taylor as she put on a pair of purple rubber gloves, catching her off guard. As though she knew Taylor had been experiencing it right alongside her the entire time.

"What do you say we take a look now and see what Baby's up to?" Dr. Marshall asked.

Dorothea smiled but winced as the doctor spread the cold gel on her stomach. "You mentioned on the phone that you'll be able to determine the sex?" She inquired.

"That's correct, as long as the little one isn't hiding at a funny angle," the doctor answered. "Would you like to know?"

"Um..." The younger woman looked at Taylor.

"Your call," she said, though she was secretly, very much hoping for a yes.

Dorothea bit her bottom lip, looking down at the wand now tracing over her skin. "I don't know," she said.

Dr. Marshall hummed. "That's okay. How about I check things out, write some things down and make sure everything's okay, first?"

The brunette agreed, though she still looked at Taylor for confirmation. She wasn't sure what Dorothea was thinking about. Perhaps their conversation last night. Or maybe like her, she, too, was beginning to fully grasp what all of this meant for the future.

After a few quiet minutes of Dr. Marshall writing things down, saying, "Yes", "Okay", "Perfect", and other similar things, Dorothea's gaze suddenly shot to Taylor, though she was addressing both of them. "I want to know the gender," she decided.

"Okay, great," Dr. Marshall said, "and it looks like the way Baby is positioned, he or she really wants you to know too." She slowed down tracing the wand over Dorothea's skin, focusing on one particular spot. She then smiled, looking between the two women. "Okay. Are you ready?"

Taylor was beaming. Dorothea was smiling, too. They both nodded at the older woman.

"All right, Miss Dorothea," Dr. Marshall began, "you are having a..."

———

They arrived at Dorothea's apartment a few hours later to check on the move-out process. It was strange seeing people carrying her furniture and stacking it neatly in the back of an open truck. Stranger still, watching them duck in and out of the red door she'd passed through countless times. Dorothea was aware of the Before getting smaller in her rearview mirror, but surprised at how quickly it was happening. Before she knew it, it would completely disappear.

Dorothea led Taylor in through the front door and up the stairs, for what would end up being her only time visiting the St. Mark's place. She sensed a bit of disappointment on the blonde's side, though she joked that she really wasn't missing anything. One look at the old, beaten-up floors, peeling paint, and dated appliances, and surely Taylor would realize it wasn't worth the regret.

As far as how she felt? It was hard to say. Part of her wanted to light the match right as she stepped into the living room; watch the place go up in flames with its complicated, tangled history. The other part of Dorothea already felt that weird, aching feeling that always comes to the certain things in life that are final. Graduation, the last day of vacation, another birthday passed, leaving friends you thought you'd see every day for the rest of your life; unlike the other part of her, there wasn't anything complicated about this feeling. It was just a hole.

"Hey, glad you two are here. Found these couple things in the nightstand drawer," Matt mentioned as he came into the living room, holding out an envelope and a CD case.

Dorothea took the Baby One More Time case, and without thinking opened the envelope to reveal several crisp hundred dollar bills. "Oh—"

"Wait a minute." Taylor paused as she was about to lift a box of the girl's clothes. She then laughed. "Thea. No way. That isn't—"

"Yes, it is,"

"I gave that to you back in January!"

"Well, I didn't know what to do with it!" Dorothea defended, looking at the money as though it was covered in poison. "It's not like I had a well-paying job at the time."

"Well, now you do. So why don't you treat yourself to something nice?" Taylor offered.

Dorothea half-shrugged, sliding the envelope into her tote. The only purchases she'd been considering recently were baby-centered, and there were a lot of them. So many. She was pretty sure sending the kid to college would seem like a bargain, once all of the first eighteen years were accounted for.

That strange, empty feeling returned. Dorothea busied herself with taping up a few boxes, while Taylor labeled them with a permanent marker in big, loopy font. After several minutes, she found herself wandering towards the large window on the other side of the living room. She perched on the sill, ivory paint more chipped than she remembered, and looked down to the courtyard below.

Aside from a neighbor digging out weeds from a flower box, it was empty. The late morning sun was casting harsh shadows across the patio. It was the sight of the furniture that suddenly transported her back to the day she moved in, nearly three years before. Sophie and Nick helped, but the blonde was the only one who stayed after. They sat on the rusty patio furniture, each with a beer from the liquor store on the corner, exhausted and laughing about how Nick had almost trapped himself in the bathroom with the lock that was apparently broken.

She remembered as they drank, the humid afternoon air coating her skin, how all of the stress she felt had suddenly evaporated as though it was meaningless. All of her worries about dropping out of school, covering her bills, and the fear of surviving on peanut butter sandwiches melted with the presence of Sophie. Her roommate had always been the more positive one. Always believing that life had a way of leading her exactly where she was meant to be.

Dorothea, on the other hand, had no idea where she belonged.

Taylor approached her at the window, placing her hands on her shoulders. "Thinking about that pair of shoes you'll buy with the money you forgot you had?"

She gave a small smile, shaking her head. "Just wanted to see what was going on outside."

"Looks pretty quiet," the singer noted.

"It usually was. Though sometimes my one neighbor had these big barbecues in the summer. Everyone was trashed and the air was clouded with smoke from the grill. Pretty sure it was a fire hazard." Dorothea laughed. She then lifted one of her hands and began tracing the window pane. "Where do you think we'll end up?" She asked.

"Living?" Taylor hummed as Dorothea nodded beneath her. "Not sure. Any thoughts?"

She shook her head. "But I want the baby to have a home. And I know my parents felt the same way when they raised us in Dallas, but I never felt like that's where I really belonged, unlike New York. But even if we settle here, what if the baby grows up and feels the exact same way that I did about Texas?"

Taylor thought for a moment, unconsciously reaching and gathering Dorothea's hair in a loose ponytail. "There isn't a way to know. Unless you happen to have a crystal ball in one of those boxes."

Dorothea smiled. "I think I left it at my mom's place."

"And I know what you just said, but I also think you know that your mom would love nothing more than for her grandchild to be living close by," the blonde mentioned.

"I know," Dorothea agreed. "Plus, if this little girl ended up having a southern twang, I truly think it would melt my heart."