That Baby (7 page)

“This is the coolest journal I’ve ever seen, Phillip. I love it.”

“I thought you might want to start a journal.”

“For the baby?”

“Yeah, like something she could read when she gets older.”

“She?”

“I kind of think it’s a girl,” he says with a beaming grin.

“Why’s that?”

“Father’s intuition?”

“You’re cute.”

“Actually, I have no idea, but I don’t want to call the baby
it.
”

“So we should name it now?”

“Not a real name yet, maybe a nickname. But we’re not gonna call it a little monkey like Danny does.”

“Well, if you are Mac Daddy. I’m Mac Mommy . . .”

“We should call it Mac Baby?”

“Hmm. How about Baby Mac?”

He kisses me again. “Baby Mac it is. Now let’s go get you some fried chicken.”

I pull him back toward my lips as I slide my hand down the front of his pants. “Maybe I decided I’m not that hungry anymore.”

He strips off my clothes then pulls me back on the couch.

Very quickly, he’s holding my hips, guiding me up and down on top of him.

I toss my head back and start to breathe deeply. It feels so good.
 

He feels so good.

The front door bangs open, someone gasps, and I turn to see Danny and Lori standing in the foyer.

I throw my arm across my chest and duck down behind the sofa.
 

I’m mortified.
 

So mortified.

“Oh, sweet. We get dinner and a show,” Danny quips.
 

“Danny,” Lori chides, smacking his arm. “Um, Jade, call us, when you’re uh, ready for dinner,” she calls out as they back out of the door.

“Shoot! I forgot they were coming over. That was awkward,” I say to Phillip.
 

He unwraps my arm, kisses my cleavage, and mutters, “I’m not done yet.”

Then I forget all about Danny seeing my boobs.
 

Of course, I know that Danny will never let me forget it.
 

When Phillip calls and tells him we’re going out for fried chicken and asks if they’d like to join us, he says something that causes Phillip to blush.
 

“What did he say to you?” I ask Phillip as we’re getting in the car.
 

“Nothing,” he says with a smirk. “Guy talk.”

“No, that’s wife talk. I’m not just some girl you got caught having sex with.”

“Princess . . .”

“Don’t Princess me.”

He leans over and kisses me. If he doesn’t watch it, I might throw up on him. I’m suddenly ravenously hungry and if I don’t get food quickly, I think I’m going to be sick.
 

Pregnancy has turned me into a teenaged boy. I’m either hungry or horny.

“He didn’t see anything, really. Said once he realized what was happening, you were already covered up.”

“And what else? I know he said something dirty, Phillip. You blushed.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Probably not.”

He kisses my hand. “Smart girl. Let’s go get you some chicken.”

I start giggling.
 

“What?” he says.
 

“He said something about deboning the chicken, didn’t he?”

Phillip laughs, then coughs, he’s laughing so hard. “I haven’t heard that term in a while. Danny mentioned something about chicken head.”

“Chicken head? What’s that?”

“Think about it. How do chickens eat?”

I bob my head up and down, pretending I’m a chicken picking grain off the ground, trying to figure it out.
 

Phillip is laughing so hard, he’s almost crying.
 

It’s then I realize what it looks like I’m doing and start laughing too.
 

“Oh, I get it.”

The good news is, when we get to the restaurant, the teasing about our couch sex keeps my mind off wanting to scream to the world that I’m pregnant.
 

When I get home, I’ll make the first entry in my journal. Maybe that will help me keep our little secret.

CHAPTER ONE

Dear Baby Mac,

Phillip, your dad, bought me this journal so I could record our pregnancy. He thinks you might like to read it someday when you are older. That I will have some words of wisdom for you.
 

I should start by telling you how excited he is. We both are.
 

I’m still in shock, honestly.
 

My first words of wisdom: Antibiotics really can cause birth control to be ineffective. So if you are ever in that situation and don’t want to get pregnant, be sure to use a condom. (Maybe I should make you read this before you go to college. LOL)

Honestly, I’ll probably never let you read this—because knowing me, I’ll write about something inappropriate—but it will be a fun way for me to track my pregnancy, how I’m feeling, and your growth.

Speaking of tracking your growth. Your dad is obsessed with it. In fact, he’s already started a growth chart on the wall in your room. Right now, you are the size of an apple seed.

Isn’t that crazy?

Dear Baby Mac,

I almost forgot . . .
 

The doctor told me that if you drink alcohol when you are pregnant but don’t know it, your baby will still turn out normal.
 

So, thank god, you have that to look forward to.

February 2nd
 

They seem bigger to me.

I wake up to find Phillip staring at me.
 

“What are you doing?”
 

He gives me the sweetest grin. “Just looking at you.”

“I know that. But why?”

He skims his hand across my chest, which is hanging out of the tank top I wore to bed.

I roll my eyes at him. “So, in other words, you were looking at my boobs, not me.”

He chuckles. “Sorta. Maybe. They seem bigger. Do they hurt?”

“Um, not really.”

“Danny said that Lori’s killed her during the first trimester. He said he could look but not touch. I felt sorry for him.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s like getting a new toy and not being able to play with it.”

I playfully smack him. “You’re goofy.”

He presses his body fully against mine in what I’m supposed to think is a sweet hug, but is really a plea for morning sex. And, I have to admit, Phillip is so sexy in the morning, I can never resist him.
 

I nuzzle his neck and kiss the side of it.
 

He quickly responds by sliding his hand up my shirt.
 

But then he breathes out morning breath.

“Oh, gosh!” I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom.
 

And puke.
 

Sorta.
 

It’s really more of a gagging than a puking. I sit on the bathroom floor and hold my face in my hands and breathe out in attempt to calm myself down. But then I realize my breath is a culprit too. I stand up, gag again, then quickly brush my teeth, which makes me gag some more.
 

Phillip wanders into the bathroom, his boxers leading the way.
 

I burst into tears.
 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling me into his arms.
 

“Brush your teeth,” I sob.
 

He brushes his teeth then pulls me back into bed with him and runs his hand across my face.
 

“Why are you crying?”

“Is this what pregnancy is going to be like? You’re going to make me gag? What the hell did we get ourselves into? I don’t know if this is a good idea, Phillip.”

“Well, it’s a little late for that,” he says. “Unless something unfortunate happens.”

I suck in a big breath as my heart takes residence in my throat. “I didn’t mean that! I don’t know what I mean. I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t want something unfortunate to happen!”

“I read that miscarriages are really common in the first few weeks. In the first trimester, really. It sucks, but it’s reality.”

“That’s not going to happen to us, Phillip! Don’t say that! Don’t even think it! It can’t happen to us!” I’m in a bit of a panic now. “We named it Baby Mac. I’ve already written in the journal!”

“Princess, calm down.”

“Don’t talk to me about reality and then tell me to calm down. You sound like you expect it to happen! Did you lie to me? Are you really not excited? Do you want me to have a miscarriage?”

“Of course not. I was sad when I thought you weren’t. You know that. I’ll admit, I am still in shock. But that brings up a question. When do you think we should tell our family and friends?”

“I don’t know. Before this morning, I would have said right away.”

“That surprises me,” he says, sliding his hand through my hair to calm me. “You usually want to keep stuff a secret.”

“I think your parents will be excited.” I stop and consider something I don’t want to consider. “But if you’re right about the miscarriage thing, I guess I feel two different ways. Part of me doesn’t want to tell them until we know the baby is okay. The other part of me thinks if something bad happened, I’d need them to know.”

Phillip gently kisses across my forehead. “I swear, everyone will take one look at you and know.”

“How?”

“You’re glowing.”

“I am not. I was just puking.”

He kisses me again. “It was just gagging and you don’t look sick. You look beautiful. What if we tell them at the Super Bowl party? We could wear the shirts, see if anyone guesses.”

“That sounds fun.”

Before I go to work, I stop by Lori’s house to see how the kitchen remodel is going.
 

I look around at the mostly empty shell. The room is in shambles. “Well, it’s coming right along! You could come to work with me sometime, if you want to get out of here. Or go hang out at my house any time you want. You shouldn’t be around all this dust.”