That Baby (27 page)

“I’m sure one of them will,” I say.

“My sister owes me. I babysat those kids when they went on vacation. Three years in a row.”
 

“How's the wedding planning going?” Lori asks Chelsea.
 

“How did your parents take the news?” I ask, knowing her parents are very driven.

“They were freaking out a little at first. Worried I wouldn't graduate. Worried we'd only been dating for a few months but then I told them about how long I've known him—the almosts. I also mentioned that my big sis, Jadyn, has known Joey since like birth.”

“First grade,” I correct, “but close enough.”

“See. And they like Phillip. They're relieved Joey has already graduated. I told them about the job possibilities. Kind of insinuated one was a done deal—but that was just to put their minds at ease that we won't starve or anything. His parents, on the other hand, were very excited and supportive. They seem to like me. My dad kinda growled at Joey when we told them. And I'm happy. Once I got over the shock. I mean, it's not like I expected to be pregnant now but I'm so amazingly happy. I was emotional and was nauseous for the first couple weeks but that's about it. I feel pretty good now.”

“I hate you,” Lori says. “You and Jade at going to be like pregnancy unicorns wearing high heels and looking gorgeous and I'll be the dumpy one in her husband’s sweat pants.”

“Lori,” I say. “You never look dumpy.”

She sighs. “At least people can finally see that I'm pregnant and not just fat.”

“Is it really that bad?” Chelsea wonders. “Because I can't wait to have my stomach look like that. It will mean my baby's growing and healthy.”

Loris eyes get huge. “I didn’t mean that I don't want a healthy baby and I know it's worth it—Aw, shit. I don't know what the fuck I want. Danny is driving me nuts—hell, I'm driving myself nuts.”

“And you said three curse words in a row,” I say gently.

She ignores me.
 

“I’m emotional. I cry for no reason. I'm sensitive. It's like some sulking, insecure, PMSing fifteen-year-old is living inside me, controlling my emotions. Danny is so sweet and so good to me, but he can't do anything right. In my mind, I know I'm being ridiculous with the way I'm acting but it's how I feel. Like my emotions are on my sleeve. I'll be lucky if he doesn't divorce me before the baby comes. I'd deserve it. See? I suck. I made him rub my feet before I forgave him for showing the guys my pregnancy underwear. They don't even fit me, but the girls at the store said I would need them eventually.”

“Joey thought they were a tire cover,” I laugh.
 

She laughs too. “If Danny would have told me that I would have been hurt.”

“He says you blame him for how you feel.”

“I do!”

“So maybe you need to flip your attitude. Maybe think of your pregnancy as an amazing gift.”

“Are you sending me to Babyville?” She rolls her eyes. “I love him but there are days I look at him and want to hurt him. I'm crazy. And to make matters worse, I got invited to lunch with Mitzi Nathaniel.”

“Dirk Nathaniel’s wife?” I ask.
 

“Yeah, he's one of the team captains and she's sort of the goddess of the football wives. Goes to games all decked out in designer clothes. Heels. Fur. Has four kids and looks perfect. All. The. Time.”

“I read an article about her while I was waiting at the doctor’s office. She has a nanny, fitness instructor and a chef. That’s why she looks perfect all the time,” I tell her. “So, what do you think? Do you have some nevers?”

“I do!” Chelsea offers. “I will always get up, shower, and get dressed even if the baby hasn’t slept much that night. I won’t wear my pajamas all day.”

“I will never get a minivan,” Lori says. “Maybe an SUV, but no minivans.”

“That was on the boys’ list,” I say with a laugh.
 

“I have a birthing plan,” Lori admits. “I don’t want them to give me pain medication.”

“My sister says the only words you need to remember when you give birth are, I’ll have the epidural, please. She had one kid with pain medicine and one without. She says the one with was a much nicer experience. I’m the girl who had to do tequila shooters when she twisted her ankle. No way I’ll survive that kind of pain without help. Plus, as my sister says, why would you want to?”

“I’ve read that it slows down labor,” Lori says.

“To which my sister would counter, So I had two extra hours of pain-free labor. So what?”

“What about you, Jade?” Lori puts me on the spot. “Do you have a birthing plan?”

“Not yet. I’m just hoping there is a birth.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had kind of a bad dream the other night,” I admit. “I was bleeding.”

“It’s normal for pregnant women to have bad dreams. It doesn’t mean anything,” Lori tells me, smoothing out her napkin obsessively.
 

“Have
you
been having bad dreams?” I ask pointedly.

She sighs. “Yes. But they haven’t been about the baby. They’ve been about Danny.”

“What about him?”

“He’s cheating on me, but who could blame him? In my dreams, I’m the size of a moose and haven’t washed my hair in weeks. I wake up bawling. He's such an idiot in them. It's like nothing I say affects him. That's almost scarier than finding out he cheated. And in the dreams, I witness the cheating, I call him out on it, and he acts like I’m being ridiculous. And I’m thinking he can’t be that dumb. But then I do think he’s dumb. I want him to swear to me it’s not true, but he just sits there with that smirk of his and doesn’t really say anything.”

“I had a lot of crazy dreams before the wedding. You told me it was because it was on my mind.”

“I can see that about something pertaining to—wait, are we still playing?”
 

“We haven’t been, but we should be,” Chelsea says. “Be right back. I have to pee.”

“Okay—uh, pertaining to the
little monkey
, but not Danny. Did you know I signed a prenuptial agreement?”

“It doesn't surprise me. Mr. D had Phillip sign one. He says anyone who comes to a marriage with a significant amount of assets should.”

“I know. And he told us that he hoped our marriage would never end, but that it's better to set the terms while you’re in love than when you aren't on good terms. It all makes sense. And this is going to sound bad no matter how I say it, so please don't take it wrong.”

“Uh, okay.”

“But when you're—uh,
with a little monkey
, you come to the realization that you are stuck with your husband. No matter what you do, once you bring a, uh
, monkey
into the equation, he will always be a part of your life.”

“Well, yeah,” I say. “Common sense tells you that.”

She sighs. “I think in the back of my mind I always felt like if we didn't work out that I could get out of the marriage. No harm. No foul. We go our separate ways. And now, if he leaves me, I'll be a twenty-three-year-old single mom. I think that's why I'm having dreams about him cheating. Because for the first time I've realized that I need him. I don't think I can do this by myself. And that makes me feel helpless and unconfident. Combine that with the fact that I'm a super-sized version of myself, you can see why I am a bit of a wreck and why my husband being at a strip club makes me want to simultaneously scream and cry. And if I’m being really honest, I know the things he loves most about me—my confidence, my intelligence—is gone. I don't know if I can handle a ba—uh, shoot,
a monkey
. And I'm afraid if I don't know everything he won't love me anymore. It's a vicious circle.”

“It’s just a night out with the boys, Lori. Don't make it more than that. You were pregnant—”

“Ha!” she yells, pointing at me. “Drink!”

I take a drink then finish my sentence. “You were pregnant during Phillip’s bachelor party and Danny didn’t cheat on you. So you don’t have to worry now.”

She tilts her head. “That's the most sense you've made all night.”

“Remember my wedding disaster dreams? None of them happened. And Phillip told me that you can change your dreams. If he’s cheating on you in your dream, whip off your ugly costume, reveal the gorgeous slinky skinny dress you’re wearing, and know that he wouldn’t because you’re beautiful to him pregnant.”

“Did he tell you that?”
 

“He did. Before the wedding. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Back to the nevers,” Chelsea says, joining us back on the couch. “I’m never going to be too tired for sex.”

To which Lori chuckles but doesn’t say anything.
 

So I tell them, “I was in the grocery store the other day and this kid was lying on the floor in the cereal aisle screaming bloody murder. Her little body was flailing in ways that seemed anatomically impossible. I felt bad for the mother, but what did she do to set the poor child off? I would have been horrified, but she was ignoring it. She was talking to the cereal instead. Saying something about how only the strongest, healthiest cereals could come home with them. I’m pretty sure she had gone batshit crazy. My child will never have a tantrum in a store.”

It’s Chelsea’s turn to laugh. “My nephew had one once while we were at his brother’s hockey practice. Everything was going great. He was happily running his little cars across the bleachers. I was texting some hot guy when he tried to grab my phone and said he wanted to play with it. I calmly replied that it wasn’t a toy; therefore, he couldn’t play with it. He let out this screech like a hot poker got shoved through his arm. Then he rolled down two stairs, fell on the ground, and started pounding his head on the bottom bleacher. I was horrified!”

“What did you do?”

“I gave him my phone. He texted the hot guy the words
snot and pusy
. Deleted half my apps and then started playing an explicit song. The whole room filled with lyrics about eating dick for breakfast. I think having kids must be a humbling experience.”

“Particularly when you give birth,” Lori says. “When we toured a birthing room, they told us there are sometimes up to five strangers—all medical professionals, mind you—watching you give birth!”

“My sister says you go into some sort of birthing zone and don’t give a shit who sees your vagina. You just want the baby out of you.”

“I’m going to heat up some more enchiladas,” I say, getting up to do so then bringing them back on a pretty platter.
 

“Wait!” Chelsea says, as I’m getting ready to serve them. “I have to take a picture of this. Line up our drinks too.”

I artfully arrange our food and beverages.
 

“Perfect,” she says, snapping away.

“Does your sister take pictures of her food?” I ask.

Chelsea laughs. “I think all she makes is macaroni and cheese. Although she uses gluten-free pasta and coconut milk.”

“I’m considering making my own baby food,” Lori tells us. “I’ve heard it’s much healthier.”

“Lately, I’m lucky if I have time to pick up the phone to call and order delivery,” I say. “And it doesn’t help that when Phillip’s mom is here she makes the most amazing meals.”

“She is such a good cook,” Lori agrees. “These enchiladas are amazing.”

“But I had visions of my husband coming home from work to find me in sexy lingerie, with an amazing dinner spread out in our perfectly decorated, candlelit dining room waiting for him.”

“I think that’s what is funny about the nevers,” Chelsea laughs. “You know even though we say we won’t do that stuff, we totally will.”

April 15th
 

A surprise.

 
We go shopping and find Chelsea a dress that is perfect for a beach wedding, have lunch with the Macs, and then head over to the Diamonds.
 

Lori knocks on the front door.

“Oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Diamond says, looking at Lori. “You’ve dropped.”

“Do you think?” Lori asks.
 

“What’s that mean?” I ask.
 

“When you drop, it means you’re carrying the baby lower. It’s usually a sign of impending birth.”

“Oh, cool. So that’s good!”
 

“Yes! I’m so excited!”

“Why don’t you two go sit in the study,” she says.
 

Mr. Diamond comes in and gives us both hugs. Then he and Mrs. D give Lori and I souvenirs from their trip. Gorgeous soft intricately woven shawls from Greece.
 

“What are those scratching noises?” I ask.
 

Mr. Diamond smiles at me. “I have a house warming present for you.” He turns to his wife. “Go get her.”

“Her?” I ask as a black blur tears into the room, jumps onto my lap, and licks my face.
 

“You got a puppy? She’s so cute!” I say, petting the little black Labrador Retriever. “Oh my gosh, look at her face!”

“She’s yours,” Mr. Diamond says.

“What do you mean?”

“I bought her for you. I went out to a client’s farm before we left on our trip, and I was remembering how I used to shoot skeet there with your dad. So he takes me inside and shows me his new puppies. All the puppies in the litter were male, except for her. The others were running around, biting each other, playing. She was looking at me with those big, adorable eyes. My client was sharing all their names and when he told me hers was Angel, I just knew you had to have her.” He looks somber as he adds, “Yesterday was your dad’s birthday. I can’t believe it’s been almost five years.”