Hell, You Always Wanted Kids
When Jimmy, James, and Mona meet her there, hours later, they assure her she is doing the right thing. This strikes Jennie as especially peculiar given that they said precisely the same thing the previous time, when she made the opposite choice. There is excitement (envy, even) that one among them is finally Getting On With Life. They console her with words about her strength and promise to support her.
“I bet you’ll be a great mother,” Mona reckons.
“I reckon you’ll keep the precious child far away from the likes of us,” Jimmy bets.
James, lovelorn, is pounding anxiously away at his cell phone. At least it means one less dose of pity directed her way.
“So does the birth mother have a baby shower, or do you?” Mona asks brightly.
Jennie shrugs. “No clue. If we could get away from talking about Eliot or babies any more for tonight, that would be cool.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Jimmy says excitedly. “I’ll tell you all something gross enough to make you forget everything you’re thinking about right now. Being a chef,” he continues, omitting that he is only a line cook, “I know some pretty gross shit about how food in our restaurant gets prepped. I mean, yeah, most of it gets prepped and a big warehouse, frozen, and shipped to us. But regardless. You guys know how soft-shelled crabs are prepared?”
“I’m guessing,” Mona says, “that you’re about to tell us.”
Jimmy grins. “Name the three parts of a soft-shelled crab that you can’t eat,” he says, looking pointedly at Mona with three fingers raised.
Midnight strikes.