Page 79 of Power Move
The server returned. Eva ordered not one buttwoslices of triple chocolate cheesecake. And, given she’d barely touched her food, it would make up the bulk of what she ate today. She took it on the chin—just like the back pain—but I wasn’t about to give in.
“Have you gotten one of those pillows?” I asked.
“What?”
“The one that takes up the whole bed.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Eva laughed.
“Well, my sister has one. Cal claims he no longer gets any bed real estate, but she said it really helps her back. You should get one.”
“That sounds silly, Davey,” Eva said.
I knew she’d never buy something for herself, but the wheels turned as the bill arrived. I swooped in to pay it, but Eva’s quick reflexes stole it first.
“No. You bought a car. I will pay this tab.”
“Eva, I swear?—”
“Nope. I am not listening to your bullshit, David,” she said.
Bert shot me a look of sheer exhaustion, signaling the women in his life ran the show.
“Are you headed back?” Bert asked.
“To Chicago? Yeah. I live on the Near North Side.”
“You came all the way down here just for this?” Bert elbowed his daughter. “That was nice of him.”
“Yes, Dad. It was nice of him.”
“Why don’t we go back and see your mom?” Bert asked.
“All of us?” Eva panicked.
“Yes. I mean, he came all this way. And she’ll tan my hide if I don’t invite him back.”
“It’s getting late?—”
“Well, he can stay the night if he needs to. It’s up to you, David.”
“I’d love to meet Mrs. Pavlak,” I said.
My cheerful response wasn’t genuine. I sensed Eva’s mom was rather demanding and probably would be the bigger boulder I’d need to move to get “in” with the family.
“I’ve got to grab something,” I said. “And I’ll be over. Just text me the address.”
Eva flashed a confused look. “Sure.”
I dropped everything, racing into the mall linked to the restaurant once Eva left the parking lot. It was 15 minutes to close, and I was a man on a mission. Therehadto be a baby store. Indeed, Babies ‘n Bumps awaited. I headed in,flustered. Two girls preparing for close looked at me, confused.
“I need a pregnancy pillow,” I said, breathless.
“Okay. We have one,” the older one said.
“Great, thanks. It’s… not for me. It’s for my partner.”
They grabbed a massive carry bag with a huge snake-like pillow inside and rang it up. As with all things baby-related, the cost was that of highway robbery—nearly $100 for a goddamn pillow. No wonder Eva wouldn’t go for it. She refused to spend money on herself.
