Wednesdays at Ronson's Juicebar

They met every Wednesday outside of Ronson's Juicebar. Katie was the dark one, tall and thin, she carried low. Meg was tiny. Hers had been the toughest so far, with relentless morning sickness. Her gag reflex had finally calmed enough that she could nurse a thin white tea, a drip of honey. Bella was the furthest along and the happiest. She'd fretted for two years when she thought she was barren. Then, miraculously, she'd fainted at the supermarket. A blood test later had confirmed it. She was due in November.

They had a routine.

They came in workout clothes and walked three miles together. Katie sometimes brought the dogs, two little dachshunds on conjoined leashes. They scampered and skittered ahead of the group like water droplets on a hot skillet, with the smooth, metronome steps of the triad of mothers-to-be keeping even time behind them. They'd become fast friends. The gated community bred friendships like these. When Bella moved in, Katie and Meg had invited her to yoga, and their lives had braided. Their husbands had started new jobs, they'd shopped for the same furnishings, they'd listened to the same podcasts and read the same books, with only slight variations as to the details of each of these activities.

It only made sense that when Bella became pregnant, Katie and Meg would be soon to follow. Dr. Powers was the best OB/GYN in the area, so they'd each become patients of his. They would each deliver at West Central Hospital. They would each eventually come home with a little baby, and they would then rejoin on the next phase of life together. When they had reached the second trimester, Katie had suggested that they meet up for a walk and a juice each week in lieu of yoga. Today the sky was azure and the grass was warm and wet with summer dew. Bella was crying.

They'd finished their laps and now stood at the juice bar. It was the same boy who served them every week. He was Pakistani, skinny with skin the shade of an almond, his thick black hair shaggy, underneath a visor that read "Ronson's Juicebar: So a-peeling!" The visor bore a smiling apple helping to pry the skin from a smiling banana. The boy had served the three women every Wednesday for the past two months. He'd had their orders memorized: decaffeinated white tea for Meg, with a drip of organic Manuka honey; kale and orange juice with a shot of guava nectar and soda water for Katie, and a whey protein banana smoothie with almond milk foam for Bella. It was this last item that had set off Bella's tears.

"No, that's not what I want today," Bella sobbed.

The boy looked blankly at Bella.

"I'm sorry, I just--" Bella eyes alit on trees, grass, anywhere other than at the server.

Meg was the one who was best at taking charge. She smiled at the server. "We're pregnant," she said.

The boy nodded.

Bella was sobbing now. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, dew on sun-kissed apples, her swollen fingers knit one another. Katie pulled her aside. 

“Bella, sweetheart, you are making a scene.” 

Bella whimpered. "It’s Dr. Powers. He says I'm fifteen pounds overweight and that I'm on my way to developing gestational diabetes."

The boy looked up from the register.

"We'll be back," said Katie.

"Give us a sec," said Meg.

Bella took refuge under the large live oak, just a few yards from the juice bar. Katie’s hands began to dig into her upper arm. “We need to move further away. People can’t relax when they see a pregnant woman causing trouble,” she said.

    Bella considered this. She’d been so consumed with her own desperation over what to order that she hadn’t considered the thoughts of others, even though the triumvirate of pregnants were the only customers at the moment.

         Katie was the first to speak. "Having gestational diabetes is bad for the baby," she said, looking at Bella.

"Well, I don't have it yet," Bella sniffled. "I could be on my way. Dr. Powers said that I've got swelling and if I took better care of myself, I probably wouldn't have this problem." Bella's eyebrows slanted upward and tears continued to roll down her rosy cheeks. "He also said that I’ll have thirty pounds to lose by the time it's all over."

Bella’s high pitch had attracted the attention of the boy behind the counter, who, upon noticing their noticing, went back to wiping down the counter.

"Well," said Meg.

Bella had stopped sniffling. "Do you think he's a total jerk?" She was looking at Katie and Meg with pleading eyes.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"He wants all his patients to be healthy." said Meg.

Bella was quiet. Her face and hands felt suddenly hot.

"Banana whey probably does have the most sugar," Katie said.

“What’s your plan?” said Meg.

Silence spoke volumes.

“You need a plan,” Katie said.  

“Bella, God has blessed you with a living being, a baby that you will have to take care of in a few months. You really just need to put your own needs on the back burner for a little while.” Meg’s expression seemed to twist into a smile. “Some people have to give up drinking or smoking. You’ll just have to give up your love of rich foods.”

    Bella could feel anger rising in herself.

    Katie sighed audibly. "Cucumber water," she said triumphantly. "Those plump little fingers of yours will shrink right back down to size in a couple of weeks," she smiled.  

    Bella looked beyond Ronson’s Juicebar. There was a grove of trees and a playground where children were pulling on the metal bars of the roundabout. A group of men loaded golf clubs into the trunk of an SUV. Birds argued pleasantly overhead. Bella suddenly wanted to be anywhere else but with Katie and Meg.

         She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. See you all next Wednesday?”

*       *       *       *

     They were a flock of brilliant birds, feet joined in rhythm again, all multicolored spandex, bold stripes and bright patterns, coordinated in feather and flight until one broke the flock.

    “Just wait for me at the end,” Bella huffed. She broke into a run. “I’m working the plan.”

         Meg and Katie gave a little wave. Three miles later, Bella had finished her run, and Meg and Katie had finished their walk. The three were back at Ronson’s Juicebar again, where the Pakistani server wore a visor that this time read, “Ronson’s Juicebar, Orange You Glad for 100% Real Juice?” A smiling orange grinned at a happy juicer.

         “I really don’t get why the orange is smiling,” Meg said. “He’s about to get crushed.”

         “Makes about as much sense as bottling water,” Bella said, “when you can get it for free without the packaging.”

         “Bottled is just better,” Katie said.

         Bella shrugged.

         “What will it be today, girls?” Bella said.

         “Usual,” said Meg.

         “Same,” said Katie.

         “Me too,” said Bella. “I mean, I’ll have the banana whey protein smoothie with a shot of almond foam.”

         The boy behind the counter nodded.

The familiar silver Mercedes, with the vanity plate "The Powers" pulled up to the stand.

"Oh, look, it's Dr. Powers," exclaimed Meg. She stood up from her seat and waved enthusiastically. Dr. Powers looked irritated. Katie walked up to him. "Dr. Powers, we were just getting our walk in," she batted her eyes.

"Swell, ladies, I'm in a rush," he said. "You're patients, right?"

Katie blushed.

The server had lifted his eyes from under a fringe of dark lashes and was regarding Dr. Powers with interest. Katie was undaunted. “I know you are in a rush. But are you proud? We come here every Wednesday to get our steps in. Our good habits will keep Bella from developing gestational diabetes!”

         Dr. Powers turned to Meg. “Well, better keep at it Bella . . .”

         Meg was shaking her head vigorously. “I’m not Bella. She’s Bella.” She pointed at Bella.

         Dr. Powers looked around at the group. He coughed. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt any of you to lose a few,” he said, looking the ladies up and down.

         The ladies were quiet. “Am I released now?” Dr. Powers asked. He made his way back to the silver car.

         Finally, Meg spoke. “I probably should get home.”

         Bella said, “Honestly, I don’t think he really pays attention to people.”

         Meg’s eyes searched the sky.  “I know there’s a word for this . . .”

         “Misogynist?” Katie suggested.

         “Controlling?” Meg said.

         “I was thinking ‘a-hole,’” Bella said.

         The spandex birds did not laugh but got up from their table and climbed into two of three SUVs, parked side by side. Bella gathered the trash from the table and made her way to the trash can close to the counter of Ronson’s Juicebar.

         “I agree with you,” the server said quietly.

         “What?” Bella said.

         “Some people don’t pay any attention to other people,” he said. And after a pause and a small chuckle, “and that Dr. Powers is an a-hole."

         For the first time, Bella saw that the server was missing the top joint of his thumb. When he pulled the drinks, he maneuvered adroitly, compensating for the loss of the digit. In the series of successive weeks that she’d been ordering, she’d never noticed the missing finger.

Bella rolled her eyes. “Dr. Powers is almost as insufferable as my friends,” she said, with a sideways smile.

         “Then why are they your friends?”

         Bella considered. “Well, who else am I going to be friends with?” she said. “Besides, we have everything in common.”

         “Mmhmm.”

         “What?”

         “Well, maybe you should try being friends with someone with whom you have nothing in common.”

         Bella laughed at this, and then stopped.

         “Like who?” she said. “Everyone who lives here does the same things, goes to the same places, reads the same books, speaks the same way.”

         “That’s how it is for me, too.”

         The absurdity of this suddenly struck Bella, and she found herself smiling. She moved closer and squinted at the boy behind the counter. “Is that your name?” she asked. “Kunal?”

         “Yes.”

         “Will you be my new friend, Kunal?”

         “Yes, but I won’t wear spandex and I’m not pregnant.”

         “See you next Wednesday, then,” she said, and tossed the trash in the can.

         “See you next Wednesday.”

         As she drove home, Bella found herself wondering what her life must look like from behind the counter of Ronson’s Juicebar. Predictable, she thought. Timid. The spandex birds would never question authority, that much was clear. They would always worship the Dr. Powers of the world. It was exhausting to please them all: Meg, Katie and Dr. Powers. And yet here she was, conforming. She hardly had room to criticize, she was just like them.

         Over the hill, Bella could see the same types of activities she had seen two weeks prior, children at the playground, men loading golf clubs into an SUV. Her life would unfold in a predictable manner. Her children would play at the playground with the children of the spandex birds. Their husbands would golf in the same foursome. She turned the steering wheel hard.

         When she got to Ronson’s Juicebar, Kunal was reading a book.

         “Back so soon?” Kunal looked up from his book.

         “I just felt like a real conversation,” Bella said.  

         “Funny, you don’t look like a real conversation.”

         Bella rolled her eyes, but inside her heart jumped, and she smiled. She was going to like being friends with Kunal.