That Baby (12 page)

“Chelsea’s such a cool chick, she won’t be all emotional and needy.”

Phillip coughs. “Except for running out of the room in tears when we announced our pregnancy.”

“Ha. They are so emotional,” Danny says. “And beware of questions where she asks if she looks bigger. It’s a double-edged sword and you will never answer it correctly. If you say what you think would be the right answer,
no, darling, I can hardly tell you’re pregnant,
she will start crying because she’ll worry the baby isn’t growing properly. And if you say that it looks like the baby bump has grown, she will cry because she thinks you think she’s getting fat and you won’t love her anymore. Pregnancy is like boot camp. Or two-a-day practices. You just have to get through it without getting hurt. Things will be much easier once the baby is born.”

“Two-a-days only lasted a few weeks. Pregnancy lasts nine months,” Joey counters.

“Although, there are a few perks. One of which is the world’s best excuse for getting out of doing things you don’t want to do.
My wife’s pregnant and not feeling well, otherwise we’d definitely be there.”

“I’m sure there are a lot of other perks,” Phillip says sweetly, pulling me onto his lap and kissing me.

Which causes Danny to laugh. “Imagine sex when your wife has a stomach the size of a basketball.”

“Chelsea’s been overtly in the mood,” Joey admits as Phillip smirks.
 

“And we know Jay has been too, based on some things I’ve witnessed,” Danny teases.

I toss a pillow at his face.
 

“You do realize you all had a similar conversation about girls in college?” I remind them.

“What are you talking about?” Danny, the biggest offender asks.

I roll my eyes. “
I’m never losing my man card. I won’t ever watch chick flicks. I’ll never go shopping with her. I’ll never change my hairstyle for a girl. I’ll never miss a game for a date.
Shall I go on?”

“No need. We get it. We mellowed a little in the name of love.”

“Or for regular sex,” Joey teases.
 

“Enjoy that while you can, boys,” Danny says, “because this is in your future.”

He smirks again then tosses something white at Joey.
 

Joey pulls it off his head and holds it out in front of him. “What the hell is this? A tire cover?”

Phillip twists his head to the side and studies it. “No, it has two holes in it. Something goes through it. Is it to cover your golf clubs?”

“Your wife’s
legs
go through it. Those are maternity underwear. Something to look forward to, huh?”

Joey is holding them up, trying to fathom Chelsea’s skinny ass fitting in something that looks like it could cover the hood of a Mini Cooper. Honestly, I’m trying to imagine myself ever fitting in something that size. I glance down at my stomach. There is no way possible that I could ever fill those things out.

Lori and Chelsea choose this moment to rejoin us.
 

“Danny!” Lori screeches, horrified. “How could you?” She turns around and marches up the stairs, Chelsea following her.

“Oh, shit,” Danny mutters.
 

“Rubber band,” I tease.
 

He stops at the bar, pours three shots, and hands them to the guys. “Here’s to surviving pregnancy.”
 

“
I’ll never chase after a girl. They can chase me
,” Joey hoots. “I very clearly remember Danny saying that, don’t you, Phillip?”

Phillip takes a pull off his beer and smiles at Danny. “I think I do.”

Danny runs up the stairs, flipping them off.
 

“I’m mostly worried about how we’re going to afford it,” Joey says. “I read that raising a baby costs like a half million dollars not including college.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” Phillip says. He’s tipsy and squinting his eyes more than normal.

“But it’s over a span of like twenty years,” I say gently. Because if there’s one thing he’ll freak out about, it’s money.

“Yeah, but it’s still twenty-five thousand a year.”

“No way a baby is going to cost that much at first. Maybe once they go to school and play sports and stuff,” I counter.

“Whatever,” Joey says. “We have to get a place to live. She still has to graduate and find a job. Which is going to be tough when she’s pregnant. I have a job but it’s not in my field. I thought when I stayed in college to get the extra certification for non-profit businesses that it would make it super easy to find something. It’s not looking that way.”

“Non-profit,” I say. “I forgot that you did that.”

“Don’t you remember all the volunteer hours I had to do?”

“Yeah, but I just put it together. Did you know Danny is starting a non-profit and looking for someone he can trust to run it?”

“No, what kind of non-profit?”

“It hasn’t been announced yet, but it’s called Diamonds in the Rough,” Phillip tells him. “It’s a program where former and current college and professional players will go into schools and talk about sports and how getting a college scholarship helped
 
better their lives. Mostly talking to kids about keeping out of trouble,” Phillip says.
 

I add, “They will also eventually have their own scholarships and money to help with after school programs for grade school kids.”

“That would be a dream job, if it pays decent,” Joey says. “I wouldn’t mind moving to Kansas City, since Chelsea’s sister lives here and it’s closer to her parents in Missouri.”

“You should definitely talk to him,” Phillip says. “And, if not, we’re going to have some openings due to our expansion. If you’d be interested in the transportation industry.”

Joey gets up and shakes Phillip’s hand. “I’ll think about that. Thanks, man. I better go get Chelsea and get to the hotel. We have some celebrating to do.”

I give him a hug. “Congrats, Joey. On the engagement and the baby. I’m really happy for you.”

“She loved that you did a little candle passing ceremony for her. Thank you for that. And congrats to you both.”

I’m finishing up writing in my journal when Phillip gets into bed with me.
 

“What a night,” he says. “I bet you're exhausted.”

“I don't think I'll have any trouble falling asleep.”

He wraps his arms around me as I snuggle into my favorite spot in the world.
 

“Mmm, your neck smells good.”
 

“You always say that,” he teases.

“Yeah, well trust me, it's a good thing because a lot of things that normally smell good are making me sick. Your neck doesn’t make me sick.”

He laughs and kisses me. “I’m glad I don’t make you sick.

CHAPTER TWO

Dear Baby Mac,
 

We told your grandma and grandpa and some of our closest friends about you at our Super Bowl party today. I had football jerseys made that said Mac Daddy and Mac Mommy on the back as a way to announce our pregnancy to your daddy. We wore them today, but I kept my cardigan on, so no one would see what the back of mine said.
 

Everyone loved the Mac Daddy jersey. Mac Daddy actually came from your dad’s old high school nickname, Pimp Daddy Mac. Your dad, he was, um, popular with the ladies.
 

I kept my sweater on, hoping someone would ask what the back of mine said. But no one did!

I was going CRAZY waiting!

But your grandma was too busy noticing that my house was dusty, I guess.
 

We just moved and I’ve been sick!
 

And trust me, her son—your father—knows how to pick up a dust rag! Actually, he promised to clean everything, and I’m kinda mad at him.
 

But whatever.
 

Except I’m not really mad. He’s been spoiling me.
 

So, anyway . . .
 

During the third quarter, I stood in front of the TV so everyone could see my back. Even then, it took a while before Mrs. Diamond caught on. Then your grandma made a noise that sounded like a tortured cat.
 

Then there was a frenzy of excitement.
 

Well, except for my friend, Chelsea. We found out that she’s pregnant too. And their baby wasn’t exactly planned. Which I mean, technically, I didn’t plan for you either. And I feel kind of bad about it. The baby handbook has a few chapters on things you’re supposed to do BEFORE you get pregnant. It’s like I missed the first few weeks of class.
 

But, I swear, I’ll catch up.
 

It might help if you could stop whatever it is you’re doing that’s making me feel like I have a permanent hangover.

I have to say though, you sometimes don’t seem real.
 

My stomach is still flat.

But then I guess that shouldn’t be a shock, since your dad tells me you are the size of a pea.

February 5th

Sexy French maid.

I drive to the job site to check in with the survey crew and then go back to the office and make a million calls.
 

“Whatcha doing?” Phillip asks, standing in the doorway.
 

I point to the phone and finish my conversation while he stalks toward me with a smirk on his face.
 

“What’s the smirk about?”

He pulls me into his arms and grabs my ass. “Just thinking you look really sexy today.”

“I wish I felt sexy,” I tell him. “Morning sickness seems to be stretching into the afternoon. Peggy, your new assistant—who I am in love with, by the way—dropped off a piece of her homemade carrot cake and I thought I was going to puke all over it. That’s not the impression I want to make on someone who can bake the way she can.”

He grins. “Maybe you need cupcakes instead.”

“Are you referring to
actual
cupcakes or cupcake sex?”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. “Maybe both.”

“This weekend was sort of lacking in that department with our visitors. Speaking of that, did you hear your mother going on and on about how the house was dusty?”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, I did. And it was embarrassing. You told me you were going to clean.”

“I told you that I cleaned their rooms and their bathroom. Seemed stupid to clean the basement when it was going to get dirty again.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not the point and you know it.”

His gaze lingers on the front of my shirt.

“Tonight, we’re going to clean when we get home. No matter how tired I am. We need to get it done, okay?”

“Okay,” he says with a sigh. “Cupcake sex sounds a lot more fun though.”

“Maybe we should hire a cleaning lady. Just every other week.”

“Sounds expensive,” he says.
 

“Somehow I knew you were going to say that. I guess it’s something we have to decide if it’s worth the expense.”

“How are we going to do that?” he grins and squeezes my ass again.
 

I remove his hands from my ass and tease, “I’m practically being sexually assaulted by my boss.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he insinuates.
 

“Don’t you have some work to do?”

He gives me a kiss. “Yes. Was just missing my bride.”

“You know you’ve started calling me your bride when you’re trying to be romantic?”

“I’m trying to be sexy, not romantic. We need steaming hot, raunchy sex tonight. I’m just saying. Even if it means I have to do all the cleaning. How about I take off a little early? Meet you at home around four?” He gives my ass yet another squeeze, kisses me, and heads back to his office.

I make a few more phone calls, but my mind is preoccupied. I’m wondering if cleaning could be both utilitarian and raunchy.