“Come on, Christen. We’re gonna be late. We’ll miss your appointment if we don’t leave now.”
“Don’t rush me,” Christen snapped. “They’ll wait.”
“They’re already waiting,” Tobin said patiently. “We’ll miss our appointment.”
“So they’ll give me the next one. I pay them after all.”
Tobin wasn’t going to argue that technically the citizens of LA paid the doctors and the nurses at LA Hospital. The backlash that that comment was certain to provoke was definitely not worth it.
Christen had been in a foul mood for the last two days, and most of that anger had been directed at Tobin. Henry had ducked out of the house to stay with his grandparents for a few days to escape his mother’s wrath, the traitor. Tobin had been left alone to brave Christen’s rage. It hadn’t been unmanageable. Tobin was still alive after all, but she was definitely praying for Christen to start sleeping properly again soon, the woman tired and cranky now that she was going through a spell of insomnia. That fatigue had made the Mayor unbelievably short tempered, and Tobin had employed many breathing exercises to keep her cool and not snap back.
Her body is going through changes you can’t even begin to understand; her hormones are out of whack. Be patient with her. Your mother cried at every little thing when she was pregnant. Christen, well, she’s not one to cry. She’s one to get angry. Just give it time. It’ll pass.
Tobin truly hoped her dad was right (and that Christen would calm soon), because she wasn’t sure how much more of Christen’s ire she could tolerate. She could feel her own irritating mounting as Christen stood in front of the mirror fluffing her hair, so Tobin took a deep breath and walked over, lightly tugging on the woman’s arm to get her attention. Christen looked up at her, mildly annoyed at having been interrupted, waiting for Tobin to speak.
You look beautiful, Chris,” Tobin said sincerely. “There’s nothing left to fix in your appearance.”
“You’re just saying that to get me out the door faster.”
Tobin took a deep, internal breath.
“No,” she said calmly. “I mean it. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, Christen. And you’ve only gotten more so now that you’re pregnant.”
Christen must have read something in her eyes, because she suddenly relaxed in Tobin’s grip, sighing softly.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Tobin followed Christen out the door, leading her to the car and helping her in.
“I’m not an invalid. I can get in on my own.”
“I know. But I like helping you.”
Christen didn’t answer, instead closing the door to the car and putting on her seat belt. Tobin got in silently, turning on the ignition and pulling out of the driveway. They sat in silence, Tobin because she didn’t want to say anything to set off another irritable remark, and Christen because she suddenly felt guilty. Tobin had been trying so hard with her these past two days. She had been so patient, but Christen was just so angry. And so she had been lashing out at Tobin, even though she didn't deserve it. She could feel Tobin's tension in the car, and she knew why she was being so quiet, and Christen was flooded with guilt.
“I’m sorry,” Christen finally said, looking out the window because she was unable to face the dirty blonde. “I feel angry all of a sudden. I can’t help it. I just… I feel an anger inside and I don’t know why. It’s been consuming me these last few days, and I’m lashing out at you because you’re the only one around me who can tolerate me right now. Until I drive you away too.”
