Maya Thought She Was Joking

Lauren was seven months pregnant.

Everyone in the house had been talking about where the baby would sleep.

But Maya assumed the answer was obvious.

There was a small spare room downstairs.

Her father had already talked about repainting it.

Maya pointed around her bedroom.

“This is my room.”

Lauren sighed.

“I know that.”

“Then why are my clothes in garbage bags?”

“They’re not garbage. They’re just bags.”

“That’s not the point.”

Lauren placed several sweaters inside.

“The baby needs to be upstairs.”

Maya stared at her.

“Why?”

“Because that’s where our bedroom is.”

“There’s another room.”

“The downstairs room is too far away.”

Maya shook her head.

“So where am I supposed to sleep?”

Lauren answered as if it had already been decided.

“Downstairs.”

Then Lauren Said Dad Had Agreed

Maya immediately reached for her phone.

“I’m calling Dad.”

Lauren’s expression changed.

“He already knows.”

Maya stopped.

“What?”

“We talked about it.”

“When?”

“Last week.”

Maya looked around at the bags again.

Her father hadn’t mentioned anything.

Not once.

“You’re lying.”

Lauren’s face hardened.

“Excuse me?”

“Dad would tell me if I had to move rooms.”

“Maya, your father and I don’t need your permission to make decisions about this house.”

Maya replied:

“I didn’t say you needed permission.”

Then she pointed toward the bags.

“But you don’t get to do this while I’m at school.”

Lauren crossed her arms.

“I knew you were going to turn it into a huge fight.”

“So you waited until I wasn’t home?”

“I waited until I had time.”

Maya didn’t believe her.