by Kate Benson
evie
“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” she asks the second she pops up on the screen and sees my annoyed scowl. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I sigh, glaring at his back through the cutout that reveals our kitchen from the spot on the couch I’ve been pouting in for the last half hour. “I’m just mad at Dash.”
“I’m shocked,” she smirks. “What has he done now?”
“I started having contractions again this morning,” I start, pulling a gasp from her lips. “It’s fine. They aren’t real,” I reassure her. “But he called my doctor and told on me,” I shout at his back before I face her again. “He hid the keys so I couldn’t take the truck to work and when he realized I gave up looking, he got all full of himself and now he thinks he can just tell me what to do every two seconds,” I rant, my nostrils flaring at the sound of his low chuckle seeping from the kitchen. “Stop laughing.” I throw my pillow at him, missing by at least four feet. “This is entrapment.”
“When you’re done tattling on me, you need to take your vitamin, pitchfork.”
“I already did,” I sneer, flipping him off when he blows me a kiss from the kitchen.
“Good for him,” she cuts me off, making my mouth drop as I whip my head around to face her. “I’m sorry, honey, but I side with him on this one,” she explains with a smirk. “Tell him I said thank you for keeping his promise.”
“You’re welcome!” he calls out from the kitchen and I roll my eyes.
“What the hell happened on that plane?” I ask, but she ignores me, instead smiling wider as he makes his way back in to sit beside me on the couch. “Get away from me. I’m mad at you,” I say low, taking the bottle of water from him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, brat,” he replies, propping his feet onto the coffee table before he reaches for the remote and changes the station. “Hi Donna.”
“Hi honey,” she chuckles across the line. “Well, I’m glad you’re home. Not just because its where you should be,” she raises her brow, ignoring the side eye I give Dash when he smirks victoriously from my left. “But I need to talk to you.”
“What’s up?” I ask, taking the strand of string cheese he’s holding out and popping it into my mouth. “Everything alright?”
“Yes, but I do have some not great news,” she admits with a sigh. “I’m going to have to delay my flight.”
“What?” I shriek, my heart immediately racing in my chest. “For how long?”
“Only a week,” she promises. “And I wouldn’t have even considered it, but there’s a storm due. While it looks like it might pass without incident, they’ve limited air travel and pushed my flight back.”
“Oh, my God,” I groan, my head falling back on the couch behind me for a second before it whips forward again to face her. “Why the hell are weather and flight changes constantly fucking with my life plans?”
“Hey!” Dash admonishes me from his side of the couch at the same time my mother middle names me for my foul language.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can…” I trail off, cradling my belly. “Mom, what if you don’t get here in time?”
“I will, honey,” she promises. “You’ve still got a few weeks.”
“What if I don’t?” I manage, sniffing back my tears as the feel of a kick pulls my eyes down. “What if you miss it?”
I glance back up and see regret staining her features just as deep as it’s likely staining mine.
“Then I’ll come the second those wheels hit pavement,” she promises. “Evie Grace, I promise it’s all going to be okay. I raised a strong, brave girl. Didn’t I?” she asks, pulling a teary nod from me, my annoyance slipping away instantly as Dash moves closer, hooking his arm around me and comforting me quietly. “Whether I’m there or not, all four of my babies are going to be just fine.”
I’d love to say my mom’s encouraging words made me feel better, but by the time we leave the doctor’s office, I’m still fighting back tears.
I thought the possibility of her missing the birth of our children was the worst news I’d get all day. To be fair, it was. However, when my doctor confirmed Dash’s threat of starting maternity leave early and ordered me back onto the couch for at least another week to try and ease my contractions, I feel even worse.
Dash takes me for bear claws before we head back home, and I nap. When I amble back out into the living room a couple of hours later, he’s in the kitchen cooking dinner and the aromas seeping in have me famished.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asks, pulling a nod from me. “Good, sugar. I was just about to come and get you. Dinner is done. Go sit down and I’ll bring your plate to you.”
“Thanks,” I smile, waddling to the couch and after a few strategic moves, I settle in. “What did you make?”
“Homemade mac and cheese,” he calls out, the sound of his steps rounding the corner pulling my eyes to his.
“Thanks, baby,” I smile again, impressed as I look down at the plate and take it in. “How’d you learn how to cook? Did your mom teach you?” I ask. He nods and I’m about to ask him more, but my movement stops as soon as the first bite of macaroni hits my tongue. “Holy mother of Jesus,” I groan, his deep laugh vibrating beside me as my head hits the back of the couch. “How is this so good and why haven’t we been eating it every day?”
“Good shit?” he grins wide, chuckling again when I take another bite and release another low, somewhat sexual whimper. “Damn, baby.”
“If every one of these thirty-seven pounds had come from this, I wouldn’t even be mad at it,” I admit before I take a few more bites and rest gently against the couch. “Well, we ate supper. Now what?”
“You need to rest,” he says immediately, making me release a low groan.
“I’m already tired of resting,” I argue. “What the hell am I supposed to do for the next four to six weeks?”
“You’re supposed to chill the fuck out, baby.”
“Yeah, because I have so much chill,” I deadpan, making him smirk as I finish the last of my water. “I’m going to go nuts not doing anything.”
“Well, you won’t be doing nothing. We’ve still got to do a few test runs to the hospital, pack your delivery bag, get ready for your mom. Not to mention, there’s an empty nursery we still need to fill with shit,” he reminds me. “Trust me, baby. You won’t be sitting here twiddling your thumbs for a month.”
“I know,” I sigh, absentmindedly tracing the ink on his wrist. “I just want to paint,” I admit. “It’s only been a day and I’m losing it. Three months without it is going to be hard. I’ve never gone that long.”
“Don’t you have some stuff in the nursery?”
“Yeah, but I was so close to getting the one at the gallery done,” I shake my head. “Now it’s just sitting up there thinking we broke up.”
He stares back at me, the smirk playing on his lips at my words for a moment before he takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll go get it for you in the morning,” he promises, pulling my eyes to find his green staring back at me. I release the beginning of an excited squeal, but his raised eyebrow stifles me. “But you have to promise you will sit on your stool, you’ll stop when you get tired and if you feel off even a little bit-”
“I promise,” I cut him off, pulling his lips to mine. “I promise. I promise. I promise,” I chant the words, resting my head on his shoulder and glancing up at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You know, I give you a lot of shit, but you’re getting pretty good at this boyfriend crap.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles.
“Mhmm,” I nod, kissing his jaw. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were totally obsessed with me or something.”
“Hmm,” he smirks, grabbing my chin and pressing his lips to mine. “Maybe a little.”
Thirty-Three
dash
“Your total is three-thousand, two hundre
d and ninety-seven fifty-eight,” the cashier smiles, either not noticing the color as it drains from my face or too polite to mention it.
“Are you fucking shitting m-”
“Do you think we should have gotten a couple of the single nursing pillows, too?” Evie asks from my side as she stares into one of our many carts.
“I thought you said you wanted the double one?” I ask. “You said you had to have that one.”
“I do,” she insists with a shrug. “I’m just thinking they probably won’t both be awake at the same time every single time.”
“So, just use one side of it, baby,” I say as I turn to face her. “You don’t have to only use it when they’re both awake.”
“You don’t think it’ll be a pain in the ass lugging this big ass pillow around for one baby?” she asks, lifting it from the cart before she drops it dramatically.
I stare back at her, holding her eyes as I reach for my wallet and eventually shake my head at her logic.
“I think we’ll manage,” I swipe my card, watching her red lips shift into a snarl of offense. “If you become completely overwhelmed by the pillow, I give you my solemn vow that I will drop everything I’m doing and come to wherever you are in our two-bedroom shoebox and move the fucking thing for you,” I reply, taking the receipt from the cashier and turning toward Evie, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Anywhere you want, baby.”
“I’ll tell you where I’d like you to put it,” she mumbles, flashing the cashier a sarcastic smile when she smirks at our exchange and tells us to have a nice day. As we make our way outside, I can feel Evie’s harsh gaze on me. “Why are you being grumpy today?”
“I’m not,” I disagree, coming to a stop at the back of my truck.
“Yeah, you are,” she argues. “You’re being grumpy as fuck and you’ve been in a bad mood for like an hour and a half and I don’t like it and I want you to stop.”
“I’m not in a bad mood, baby,” I insist. “I just think you need to focus on what we actually need before we start throwing random shit in the cart.”
“What’s random?” I ask, earning a look when I lift the matching set of dinosaur costumes from one of the bags.
“Which baby book said you needed these?”
“Oh, whatever. You don’t get it!” she huffs, snatching them from my grip before she puts them back into the bag. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out anyway,” she continues, making me swing my eyes back to hers in disbelief. “You got a job and it’s not like we’re starving or anything.” Yet. “My commission will start in about another month or so. We’re fine,” she insists. “So, stop being a dick about me picking out cute shit and just have some freakin’ fun already.”
“I’m not trying to be a dick-”
“Oh, I know you’re not trying,” she shakes her head, pulling a mirror from her purse and quickly reapplying her lipstick before facing me. “It’s your gift. Remember?”
Jesus, that lipstick is going to be the death of me.
“I’m just saying that things are going to be tight enough as it is,” I continue, reaching into one of the bags and grabbing my candy bar out of it before I hand over her bottled water. “If we need something, yes. We’re in the fortunate position to get it, but we’ve already spent almost five grand and we don’t even have anything to put on their asses yet.”
“They have clothes,” she rolls her eyes, gesturing toward the dinosaur costumes again. “This nursery is the only thing I have to keep me from going crazy right now,” she reminds me, flicking my nipple hard and laughing at my expression when I hiss out an expletive and grab the spot defensively. “Stop acting all tough and just give me my way already. We both know I’m going to get what I want anyway. It’s easier when you just relax and let it happen,” she teases as I move to unlock her door, her words making me cease all movement as I look down my nose to find her grinning as she steals a bite of my candy bar. “That’s what you’re always telling me, right?”
“You’re such a rotten little pain in my ass,” I reply, unable to hide my smirk as I pull her door open.
“Better yours than mine.”
“Get in the truck,” I shake my head, biting into the last of my chocolate as her laughter comes trailing out. She buckles in and turns to face me, still giggling at me when I grip her chin and force her lips to mine. “Asshole.”
evie
“How are you feeling, Mama?” the doctor asks as she steps into the exam room, her smile wide. “Looks like those babies have dropped.”
“I thought they might have,” I reply, glancing down at my belly. “I’ve been able to breathe a little easier the last couple of days.”
“That’s normal,” she explains, setting my chart to the side before she takes a seat on the small stool. “You’ll probably start having a lot of pressure in your pelvis if you haven’t yet.”
“I have,” I admit. “I don’t think I’ve ever peed this much in my life.”
“That’s normal, too,” she assures me with a light laugh. “How’s Dad?” she asks as she looks behind me to focus on Dash. “Not so lightheaded today, I hope.”
“I’m fine,” he assures her awkwardly, the sight of his skin tinging pink with uncharacteristic embarrassment making me snort.
“Contractions still?” she asks as she returns her attention to me.
“Some,” I nod. “Not as strong, though.”
“She had a pretty bad one this morning, though,” Dash interjects, his fingers threading through my hair. “She turned onto her side and it eased up some, but it was probably the strongest one she’s had so far.”
“Okay,” she nods, listening closely before her eyes swing back to mine. “It sounds like you’re progressing nicely, but let’s have a look and see where we’re at,” she says, rolling her seat as I lean back on the table. She goes silent for a few minutes while she does the exam and when she stands, she discards her gloves and faces me once more. “We’re going to try and get you to hold out a little while longer, but you’re about fifty percent effaced and between two and three centimeters dilated,” she admits, making my eyes widen. “Don’t panic. You’re far enough along now that it could realistically happen at any time and we’d be healthy. I still want you to get plenty of rest. Also, after this weekend, I want you to limit your travel to no further than an hour or so from the hospital until after delivery.”
“Okay,” I nod, releasing a nervous breath that has Dash giving my hand a firm and supportive squeeze.
“You’re doing great,” she reassures me again, giving me arm a gentle pat as she stands. “We’re in the homestretch now.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dash is helping me back into his truck, taking a second to gaze over at me.
“You okay?” he asks when he climbs behind the wheel and I nod my reply. “You sure? You look upset.”
“I’m not,” I promise immediately. “Honestly, I don’t think I could be more excited if I tried,” I admit. “I guess I’ve just been so wrapped up in being pregnant and taking care of the babies that I didn’t stop to think about some of the things we’re about to be giving up once they’re here.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing major,” I shrug, giving him a small smile as I meet his eyes. “Although it looks like no more adventures for us. Not for a little while anyway.”
“We’ve still got a few more days, little monster,” he winks as he leans in for a kiss. “We might be able to fit one more in.”
“Pussycat,” he whispers against my neck, the feel of his beard tickling my skin making me squirm beneath him. “Wake up.”
“Ugh,” I mumble, turning to kiss his jaw before I reclaim the prime spot on the body pillow I’ve been fighting with all night. “I love you so much, baby. Please fuck off.”
His laughter shakes the bed around me and his palm rakes over my lower back before it sinks to my ass, gently rubbing me awake.
“Come on, little monster,” he croons, his teeth latching onto m
y shoulder before he kisses the spot. “Get up.”
“Why?”
“Because I miss you,” he says, his wide grin obvious in his tone and I twist away as much as my belly will let me.
“Liar,” I yawn, making him laugh once more. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” he teases, his finger tracing the center of my cheeks until my eyes pop open. “There she is.”
“Okay, I’m up!” I groan, twisting slightly to restrict his access as I rub my eyes awake. “What?”
“Come on,” he smiles, pressing his lips to mine and yanking at my arm until I begin to lift.
“Why?” I yawn.
“‘Cause I said so.”
“It’s adorable that you think that matters to me,” I tease through another yawn, making him chuckle. “You’ve been up my ass all week to rest and I’m doing what you want and now you’re annoying the fuck out of me.”
“Such an angel,” he sighs playfully, kissing my hair. “Stop being a pain in the ass. Do what I want, woman.”
“Fine,” I huff, raising my arms when he tugs are my shirt and starts lifting it over my head.
I do little to help him, but I also stop arguing. Between the contractions I’d had all night and my inability to get comfortable, I’m sure I didn’t get more than four solid hours of sleep. However, he seems so happy, there’s no way I’m popping his bubble, no matter how tired I may be.
Not to mention, it’s a pretty big day for us.
I don’t expect him to remember. Dash has never been good with the timeline that is us, but the walk of shame that changed our lives is emblazed on this heart. I know it’s there on his, too, even if he doesn’t know it happened a year ago today.
“Go pee, little monster,” he orders gently, those little gold flecks shining a little brighter today than usual as he stares down at me.
“What are we doing?”
“You’ll see,” he promises, kissing my neck before nudging me toward the bathroom. He runs my toothbrush under the water before squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles and leaving it the sink ledge with a smirk. “Brush your teeth, baby. Your breath stinks.”
