The Love of Lies

Snacks

Ashton’s POV

The slippers I bought look like chimp feet, complete with faux fur hair, and Cori is sympathetic enough to pardon me from the mortification. Unlike how she reacted to the photographer coming onto me earlier.

I’m not homophobic, but I was extremely confused, especially since I’m fairly certain that the man could tell that Cori and I were wearing matching outfits, which means that he was intentionally trying to make things uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to do that to yourself,” she says, staring at the hideous slippers as she speaks.

“Thank you so much,” I reply, genuinely relieved by the woman's statement, so I toss the slippers into my car and help her stand again. “Better?” She nods, and we make our way into the store.

I don’t see the big deal, people come out of their homes wearing worse than what she has on her feet, but all the while Cori is muttering about how embarrassed she feels.

I keep reassuring her that no one is paying attention, but my words are immediately thrown at me because someone walking out of the store looks at Cori’s feet and scoffs mockingly, prompting me to respond rudely.

“The reactions that ugly people have don’t count.”

“Ashton…” Cori whines, slightly bumping me with her body. “That was too mean.” That’s what Cori’s mouth is saying, but she also giggled, so my goal has been accomplished.

“Someone once told me that there are people in this world born to antagonize; I think that woman might’ve been one of them.

Cori’s expression changes, taking me aback because I thought we were in a good place to tell jokes.

Not knowing what to say or do, I grab a shopping cart and silently follow the woman, hoping that she’s only having a mood swing right now.

Cori’s POV

I was actually beginning to relax around Ashton, but then he mentioned something I said when I was interested in him as more than a friend, and for whatever reason, it made me sad.

He doesn’t ask why I’ve gone quiet, which is good because I’m embarrassed about it.

I used to look forward to seeing the man, but now I just feel like a burden to him, and truthfully, I don’t blame him for wanting to have nothing to do with me.

I’m confident that he wasn’t interested in being with me past a few nights, and if Mark hadn’t found another woman to go home with, Ashton probably would have tried to convince me to sleep with both of them.

Absent-mindedly, I start picking up things I want to eat, things I think that I want to eat, and things that catch my eye. I’m so glad that I changed my shoes because my feet needed a break, and until Ashton cleared his throat, I’d been filling the shopping cart with nonsense.

“I have my card with me.” Ashton looks surprised by my words, so I raise a brow at him.

“Cinnamon sugar popcorn?” He asks, making me look back into the push buggy.

“The image on the bag looks delicious.”

“Okay, but Cori… that can’t be good for you. In fact…” Ashton picks up another item, and reads the nutritional label, making me frown deeply.

I feel like a child about to throw a temper tantrum, but the man is right.

Ashton’s POV

Cori is just putting snack after snack in the cart, and I was trying to be respectful until she picked up something that had the word sugar in the title.

She acknowledges that she plans to pay for her own stuff, but I wasn’t even thinking of that, I’m just worried about her health.

“The image on the bag looks delicious.”

“Okay, but Cori… that can’t be good for you. In fact…” I read the nutritional label from another item in the cart, and the woman’s nose turns so red that I have a gut feeling that she’s about to cry, or that she’s trying not to. “We can get these things, but they have to be stored in the kitchen so that you aren’t munching on these throughout the night.”

The woman reluctantly agrees, and because I’ve clearly entered the wrong store to make good choices, I suggest for us to leave, but I make a detour to the deli section, picking up pre-made guacamole and butter tortillas.

It’s not exactly the homemade guac that was listed in the pregnancy guide, but for now, it will do.

Cori is used to pinching pennies, so she instructs the cashier to tell her when her total surpasses forty dollars, drawing a criticizing look from the woman, who’s likely confused because it’s visibly obvious that Cori is wearing an expensive dress.

“Ignore that,” I say to the woman, earning myself a look from Cori that seems weary. “I’m paying because it was my idea to stop, and I’m kind of curious about what cinnamon sugar popcorn tastes like too.”

Cori is smart enough to know that I’m just talking, I don’t care what the popcorn tastes like, I just don’t like that the woman carrying my child is afraid to spend more than forty dollars; that’s unacceptable.

“Can I pay for half?”

“You’ll just be making the cashier's life more difficult.” Cori sympathizes with the working class, so as soon as I said that I knew that she would back down.

Unable to handle how uncomfortable she feels about me paying, Cori starts bagging the items, making me shake my head.

We head back to my car, and the woman immediately goes for the popcorn, but I stop her.

“I don’t know how much you ate today, and I don’t want you to fill up on that. Eat some of this first…” I hand Cori the tortillas and guacamole, and she looks at me like I’m a monster. “Please. Right now, you are my responsibility, and my parents are already texting me.” I show Cori my phone, and she winces, likely because my father threatened to hang me by my toes.

We climb into the car, and Cori quietly and unhappily snacks on the guac, but after a while, she looks confused, and slightly angles her body to look at me.

“What do you think would happen if someone were actually hung by their toes?”

“What?!” I can’t help but to start laughing, but Cori looks dead serious.

Eventually, she also realizes how absurd her question is, so she laughs as well.

“Cori,” I say calmly. “Can we go back to being friends?”

Cori’s POV

I couldn’t look at the total amount Ashton was spending on me, and I hope he doesn’t throw it in my face later, but right now, I’m too hungry to argue.

We get to the man’s car, and I immediately reach for the popcorn, wanting and needing to know what it tastes like, but Ashton gently removes it from my hands.

“I don’t know how much you ate today, and I don’t want you to fill up on that. Eat some of this first…” I know that he’s being gentle, but I feel like he just snatched the popcorn from me and dumped it on the curb, and it's clear that my expression gave those thoughts away. “Please. Right now, you are my responsibility, and my parents are already texting me.”

I dislike Ashton telling me what I can and can’t eat, but he’s right in this situation, and the bad blood between us doesn’t change that.

I’m pregnant, and I need to start thinking about the health of my child, so the feeling of hunger is no longer something I can ignore; even though that’s what I’m used to doing.

I take the bag from him, somewhat annoyed by his interjection, but he tells me that he’s already in trouble with his parents, which strikes me as true.

He shows me his phone, allowing me to read one of the longest text messages I’ve ever seen in my life, but what stands out most was the capital letter threat of being hung by the toes.

Resolved to voluntarily lose this battle, I pull out the contents of the bag, surprised to see that it’s the guacamole and tortillas that he picked up. I don’t know if the man knew about the healthy snack option that’s in my pregnancy guide, but he might’ve been just guessing.

The entire drive back I focus on eating, wanting to be so full that I can’t even think about the popcorn, and part of my methodology involves imagining the threat that Mr. Lewis sent.

“What do you think would happen if someone were actually hung by their toes?”

“What?!” Ashton starts laughing so loudly that I’m offended because I’m dead serious.

I honestly can’t figure out if the digits would sever from the weight or not, and no amount of A&P lessons I can draw back on are helping.

Still, I know that the question is crazy, and Ashton’s smile successfully works to make me laugh at myself.

“Cori… Can we go back to being friends?” I wasn’t expecting him to ask that, but my reaction is a nod that’s more about wanting peace between us for the baby.

It’s ‘okay’ that I’m pregnant by a person that I barely know, but it’s not okay for me to use my feelings toward Ashton as the basis for eliminating his right to have a relationship with his developing child.

Afterall, he and I will be stuck in this for at least eighteen years, so there’s no reason to make it a miserable time for both of us.

“Can you tell me about the baby?” Ashton’s question makes me tense, but not because he’s asking, but because I have limited information myself.

“Before you judge me, just know that I only just started working. My insurance takes sixty days to kick in, so I have to pay out of pocket.”

“Cori, stop beating around the bush. If there’s a problem with the pregnancy, I deserve to know.”

“The thing is that I only know that the baby has a heartbeat. I’ve only seen my doctor once and-” I’m cut off.

“When can we make an appointment? My parents are under the impression that you’ve seen the doctor several times. If they hear about this, they’re going to freak out.”

“I have a lab visit next week, and later I have my second scan…” It actually bothers me that I wanted to get rid of my baby, and I hope Ashton doesn’t use it against me in a custody battle. “Outside of the first place I went.” The man seems to understand, and for a while, he lets the conversation drop.

“Can I come?”

“To the scan?”

“To both.”

“You want me to uninvite your mother?” My voice is barely above a whisper, but the incredulousness in my tone is beyond noticeable.

“I’ll do it, and I promise that she won’t complain to you.”

I agree, and the rest of the ride is spent in a comfortable silence that's neither friendly nor hostile.

Ashton’s POV

I was surprised when Cori told me that she doesn’t know much about the baby, and I’m almost positive that she’s telling the truth about being on a budget.

My parents are big on donating to public hospitals, so I know how much a simple doctor's visit can cost for an uninsured person, and if I’m being honest, the fact that Cori works in a public institution makes my mother like her more.

If she had taken a job at a private facility, she could have made twice as much money, but she chose less pay and more demanding work to set up a better future for herself.

If she can continue her five-year commitment, she will come out on the other end debt free, and to keep her, the hospital will either pay for her to continue her education, or they will increase her pay rate.