Mrs. Cerulli

Part 1

"I can't believe it, I mean --- I never thought I would have a baby, y'know? It just didn't seem like it was in the cards for us... We've been trying for two years, I was starting to think it would never happen!"

"Ahuh."

"I mean, listen, we have been trying, ya know? Real hard. I was starting to worry I couldn't have kids and my mom kept talking about how my biological clock was ticking, and then when I'd stopped thinking about it... bun in the oven!" Tara squeals, leaning back on the barstool and patting her very flat stomach. 

You sip your fruity drink loudly.

You graduated college, but you, Tara, and Maura still meet up at least a few times a month to keep up with each other. Tara dropped out with a year left when she met her now husband, and Maura has moved on to medical school. You took your degree and found a good job --- it helped to have Cerulli's recommendation letter, admittedly.

Turns out that dating an older guy with connections in the world is pretty handy. 

"Well, congratulations on motherhood," Maura says after a moment, stirring the straw of her drink. You are both drinking like always, and you knew something was up when Tara only ordered a soda --- she's usually like a sponge when it comes to alcohol. "It sounds like you're excited about it."

"Well, of course, I am! Adam has been nonstop about wanting a baby," Tara sighs, twirling a blonde curl of hair around her finger as she leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. "He's like, already in his thirties, and he's already so weird about being ten years older than me. He kept saying that he'd be too old to be a dad if we didn't start having one now."

"He didn't pressure you into getting pregnant though, right? Like you want a baby too, don't you?" Maura frowns, the dim lights of the bar glinting off her glasses. You're all sitting at your favorite round table in The Pub, and you're sort of glad that the tradition of meeting up hasn't died off --- as much as you don't always adore Maura's bluntness, she is the voice of reason in tumultuous times, and Tara is always bubbly and positive when it's a little too dark.

They're a perfect balance.

"No, I love kids, and my mom is right --- I want to have kids before I'm thirty, that way I still have the energy to chase after them." Tara shrugs her shoulders, but she's relaxed, so you believe her. She was going for a degree in education, so she must like kids to some extent. You know she's mentioned on and off after getting married about having them, but she and Maura are closer than you are, so you suppose that it would be something the two of them would discuss.

Sometimes you still feel like the third wheel in their friendship, but at least you're included. You've never had an easy time making friends, even in high school you only really had one and the two of you haven't spoken since graduation. You don't even have a clue what he's doing now.

Life just... moves on that way, you suppose.

"Are you going to finish your degree, though? You were almost there." You ask after a moment, moving the straw around in your drink, staring at the ice clinking together. You were disappointed when she dropped out, but she had it in her mind she wanted to be married and stay at home. Honestly, it's fine so long as she's happy --- and she seems to be. She sports around a nicely sized ring on her finger, gushes about her husband and the trips they seem to go on, and tags you relentlessly in cat memes on social media.

All in all, same Tara. She's still bubbly and happy, you and Cerulli even went to her wedding together --- it's a special memory for you since it was the first real event you'd gone to as a couple. She'd looked so pretty in her long white dress --- which had been such a joke between the three of you, had you giggling, a little tipsy on champagne, the entire reception. You've never really been happy for someone before, but you'd also never seen two people so obviously adoring of each other; plus it did make you feel better with her husband being older and nearing his forties, just like Cerulli.