by A. E. Murphy
Jacob sniffs the air and shrugs looking perplexed, “I can’t smell anything.”
“Me either,” Amelia adds. I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m getting a drink, anybody else want one?”
“I’ll get it,” James says automatically and hops to his feet. “Anyone else?”
“Beer,” the other two echo each other, their eyes never leaving the TV. Amelia asks for juice, her attention on the Barbie’s. James passes me and kisses my forehead. I could get used to this.
Moments later he’s handing me a fresh apple juice and sitting back down, “Will this slavery thing only last until I’ve had the kid or are we talking until I’m dead?”
James flips me off, something he’s never done before and glowers playfully at me. Does he not realize I’m serious? All he’s done is fawn over me the past two days and I’m not one of those women who are going to say, “Stop it, I’m not an invalid.” Because quite frankly if I’m going to suffer with an invader in my stomach for the next five months and suffer through birth then I deserve to be pampered and run around after.
“Are you hungry?” Jacob asks me, probably his way of apologizing for calling me almost fat earlier. Then my stomach growls, rather noisily I might add. I give them all a look that screams, “Don’t you dare say a word.” They divert their gazes. Good boys.
“I really, really fancy a McDonald’s double cheeseburger. And one of those snack wraps. Oh, and a brownie Mcflurry. Maybe some Crisscuts too,”
James grins like a proud husband, “You never have McDonald’s.”
“Not since I was about eighteen and even then it was only ever a breakfast bagel.”
“Come on then,” he holds out his hand I take it and wait for Jacob and Lucas to bark out there orders. “Let’s go.”
We head down to his hire car because apparently I’m not allowed to drive. What kind of bull is that? Although he does let me have control over the music. “YOUR SEX IS ON FIRE!” I shout sing and bang my head back and forth.
He’s used to it, as he should be. “Fancy letting them sing it for a while?”
“Not really.” I don’t stop singing as we stop at a red light. The windows are down in case you’re wondering. “THE DARK OF THE ALLEY! THE BREAKING OF DAY!” James hand clamps over my mouth. “HMM, HMM, HMM, HMMMM, HUM.” He removes it. “FEELS LIKE YOU’RE DYING. YOU’RE DYING.” Over my mouth. “HUM! HMMMM.” Removes it. “YOUR SEX IS ON FIRE!”
“Thanks sweetie!” an old guy shouts from the street making me do the piggy snort giggle.
I turn the music down when we pull into the nearest McDonald’s. Whilst ordering, something glints in the corner of my eye. James notices it to and curses. Stupid paparazzi. Do they just watch places like this in LA to see if any stars show up? It’s ridiculous!
We take off as the idiot with the camera moves closer to the car. Mm, my mouth is watering from the strong scent of burgers and fries and such.
“You ok?” James asks. A little bit random.
“Fine, why?”
“Just worried about you. You’ve not been taking this well.” Remaining silent seems the best thing right now. “I have to go back soon. Tomorrow preferably.” He takes a deep breath. “Please come back.”
“I don’t want to.”
“And then I’ll miss out on my child,” he scoffs and slams his hand on the steering wheel. “Stop being so damn selfish!” His breath heaves and his face softens. “I know I don’t have any right to demand anything from you but give me this…. Please. Don’t make me beg because you know I will. I get it, we’re over. You’ve moved on.” HA, if that was true why am I here? “Just give me this.”
“I said I’ll think about it.” What’s to think about? He’s right, I can’t and don’t want to do this alone. I’m still not relenting immediately to his face, it’s not my style. Make him sweat.
None of this means I’ve forgiven him. In all honesty, I don’t know why I should forgive him. He screwed someone else.
For revenge. Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t have done something similar.
Good point.
Let’s not pretend you don’t want a fumble in the sack with him again.
Also a good point. But look at him, he’s effing gorgeous. His hair, his eyes, his plump lips that are curved into a slight smile no doubt because he knows I’m staring at him. I just can’t get past those pictures, sure I get why he did it even though it was a shit thing to do. I get the fact he’s sorry. It’s just the getting past the fact his… his thing has been in that whore. Who the hell took the pictures is what I want to know.
He probably used a camera stand.
What kind of woman doesn’t care if a married man takes pictures of her burying his rod?
“Like what you see?” he smirks. I scoff, “Such a cheesy thing to say.”
He chuckles and pulls into the long winding driveway. The usual paps aren’t here, they usually wait for us to leave, Jacob being their main focus obviously. They weren’t here on the way out either. Jacob must have paid them to go home. They’re sure to be staking out somewhere. Possibly at McDonald’s.
“FOOD!” I call at the top of my lungs as we enter the house, startling a very timid housekeeper who scuttles off yet again like a frightened little mouse.
We sit and eat in silence all except Amelia who is darting around the room and stealing our food. Mostly Jacob’s, I think she has a little girl crush on him. Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s taken a shining to her too, the past couple of days they’ve been near inseparable. They even watched The Little Mermaid together, yesterday I think it was. I was in a numb state, so numb I’m forgetting my days. I’ve been there so much recently it should become its own country. I shall name it Numbland, you can locate me on Numbgle earth, in a small area called Aloofville, population me.
That’s it, I’m done. I’m leaving.
Good riddance.
Just for that I’m going to stay and be the best damn conscience available. Even if our host is crazy.
“I’m making noises again aren’t I?” I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut rather than watch the three men nod their heads. “My bad.” Time for bed, I’m losing my mind. Maybe a good book will sort this out. Without waiting for permission I drag my feet to my room and drop onto my bed. “Should I stay or should I go now? If I go there will be trouble.” Hum, hum, hum, I forgot the words. The chorus pretty much sums it up.
Go with them, work at the family you tore apart by being an idiot.
Have sex. That should help clear your mind.
“I hate my brain,” I grumble into my pillow and grab my kindle. Time to pretend I’m someone else for a while. I wonder if being pregnant makes you quirkier than usual, and then I stop wondering because the whole point of me coming back to Numbland is so I can have a break from thinking about this stuff.
I’m still reading when James comes in and starts untying his shoelaces then kicks his shoes across the room and dumps his pants on the wood floor. Apparently the floor and the closet are synonymous in his world, I’ll call it Scruffland, where floors are laundry baskets and laundry baskets are the only place without dirty clothing. It’s also a place where they can leave their Q-tips on the side of the sink after “wanking off” their ear. Fortunately for him everywhere we live we have a cleaner so he doesn’t hear my wrath. Another thing he does that annoys me… he blows his nose and folds up the damn tissue! Who does that? Then he leaves it on a surface some place, be it the bed side table or the arm of the couch. I always used to come across these little tissue squares. Freak.
“You are really annoying,” I say but it’s not true. The reason it isn’t true is because these things have never annoyed me until now and the only reason they’re annoying me now is because I’m angry at him and even the way he breathes is annoying. If you’re wondering why I’m yet again angry at him it’s because I’m thinking. I’m female, I think and when I think, the emotions of the thing I’m thinking of come bubbling up as if it happened five minu
tes ago. So now I’m going to pick on him and show him that I’m angry. “Why do you flip the pillow before you lay down?”
His eyes go wide, his eyebrows shoot up, he knows what’s coming, knows the tone of voice I’m using. Instead of replying he flips his pillow and sinks under the blankets like a frightened little puppy. Only his eyes and forehead peek over the top. I want to laugh but I don’t because I need to tell him off.
“You always leave the sink in a mess after shaving. And you never rinse the sink properly after brushing your teeth,” yeah, this is going well. I’m counting stuff off on my fingers. “When you burp you say pardon me. Who does that? What are you? British? You laugh it off and say scuse me. Not excuse me. Just scuse, as in scuse. You know? SCUSE!”
He nods and watches me as I start pacing by the bed, much like a lioness would, I imagine. Roar. “When you’re driving you always have two hands on the wheel at ten and two. Who does that?”
“Not me anymore apparently,” he chuckles, it sounds deep and muffled from under the blanket, it earns him another glare. “Sorry, continue.”
“Right,” I nod and pull down another finger. Wait, there’s something else. I know it. He starts shaking, not from fright but from laughter. He knows I’m stuck thinking of something else that suddenly annoys me. Ah. “You type slower than me.”
He can’t contain it, he erupts with laughter and pulls me into his arms. “And why’s that bad?”
“Because it sounds wrong. And when we’re typing at the same time all I can think about is your effing fingers on the keys and how I want you to speed up.”
Actually you were thinking about what those fingers can do to your body.
Trying to resolve something here libido.
Pretty sure that’s my line Conscience.
“You are so full of shit,” he says slowly and pulls my hair from my shoulder, it is soon replaced by his lips. “I’ve missed you.”
Me too. “You’re annoying.”
“You love me.”
“Yeah.” Shit, did I say that out loud? “That’s why I hate you.”
“You hate the fact that you can’t hate me, there’s a difference. Because you know I’m sorry, and part of you knows I would never, ever hurt you again.”
“Go to sleep Casanova.” Stupid male with his stupid mind reading abilities. Scoff.
I’m on his side.
Me too.
It’s a good thing I’m irrational then isn’t it. At least I have a level head. You won’t catch me running back to no cheater.
Sure you do. This is proof just how level headed you, I mean we, are.
I really need to see my shrink again. What the hell is that smell? Why can I smell bleach? Is this normal? I need to pee again! How did I not notice the fact that I’m pregnant? It should have been obvious, I’ve been peeing a lot, feeling a little sick some days, but never actually vomiting fortunately. Now I have a wicked case of heartburn.
“James,” I say and turn over. “I need some Renee.”
“Heartburn?”
“Good guess,” It’s irritating. I rub the space below my ribs and frown. “Please.”
He grins, climbs out of bed and gets redressed. I watch his gorgeous thighs tighten as he pulls on his pants, I watch his chest expand as he shrugs on his shirt. Screw the Renee, I need sex. He leans over to kiss me softly before heading down the hall. Guess that means no sex then.
“Stupid invader,” I say but find myself stroking my belly. Glaring at my hand I hiss, “Quit it!” And then proceed to throw it onto the bed with a slam. That sure told it.
Sigh.
James pads back into the room with a little red packet in hand, “Jacob had some in the cupboard. We should start stocking up on the things we’ll need. Won’t be long before your breasts start producing milk.” Come again? “Of course they have nipple pads for that so you don’t ruin your bras.” Say what? “If you read the baby books they’re very informative.” And again… say what? “Apparently you taste different down there whilst pregnant.” Ewww. “Maybe we can test that theory.”
“Give me the damn tablets.”
“You know you’re very cute when you’re grumpy.”
“You’re asking for a black eye.”
“And adorable when you’re aggressive.”
“Do you like your penis?”
“Most definitely. Do you?”
Hell yes I do, “Then shut up or you’ll lose it.”
He grins and wags his eyebrows before passing me two little white minty smelling things. Apparently these are chalk, or so I’ve heard. I’ve never had them. I chew, and chew and chew and then swallow. Hmm, instant relief, and they’re stuck in my teeth.
“Better?” he asks and quickly gets undressed. I nod and turn over in a huff. “If we could swap places I would do it in a heartbeat.”
“Puh-lease!” I laugh and slap his arm. “You almost cried when you got that paper cut on your thumb.”
“It was right on the underside of the knuckle, it hurt like a bitch.”
“Baby.”
“Meanie.”
Chapter Five
This morning James disappeared with Lucas. Probably to book our flight home. I should really invest in a private jet. Amelia is sat on Jacob’s knee watching another Disney movie whilst I send text after text on my phone informing people of my return home. It’s the best option… plus Jacob threatened to never talk to me again if I didn’t go home and give it a try. I can understand his point, I can understand James’ point I just don’t want to.
“You gonna miss me?” I say to Jacob and give him a large smile.
“Obviously, it’s not going to be the same without you.”
“You could always come with us.”
He shakes his head solemnly, I know he has work here, he’s in the middle of shooting a new movie at the moment. Some new movie that will go straight to Box-office. Probably win a few awards too. “We’ll still visit and stay in touch.”
“I hope so,” I mean it, I really hope so. We leave it at that, neither of us wanting or needing to say goodbye, not just yet anyway. Amelia follows me into my room to help me pack. After twenty minutes Jacob silently joins me. He smiles at me fondly and taps my nose before filling my cases with my clothes. We remain silent whilst doing it, I’m scared of crying and I think he’s scared of making me cry. It’s not final, I know that. I’m too pushy for us to not stay in touch.
Amelia seems to notice the silent tension and hums quietly to herself as she handles the task of dumping my makeup into a bag. Damn I have a lot of face cake.
The baby books are still spread along the bed, James must have fallen asleep reading again. I pile them neatly and place them on top of his case. As soon as we’re finished I look around the room, I lightly touch the dark grey and black bedding and the black sparkly bedside table. I leave the bedding and furniture because it suits the room perfectly.
“Let’s go get lunch, one last time,” Jacob grins and takes my hand. I nod and get Amelia ready before sending a quick text to James.
Maya: Going for lunch with Jacob, taking Amelia. Be a couple of hours.
James: Where are you? We’ll come meet you.
Maya: It’s just for me and Jacob, to say bye. Stop doing a victory fist pump. You’ll embarrass yourself I’m only coming because of the invader.
James: Are you watching me?
I laugh out loud. He is so predictable.
Maya: Weirdo!
The three of us, meaning Jacob, Amelia and I head out, we can’t decide on a place to eat. Jacob wants a place called Mario’s, Amelia wants McDonald’s and I want this really nice little café on the beach. I think it’s called the hut. They know where I mean. My place that I’m recommending does the best cheese and tomato Panini’s ever. Seriously they are to die for. I’m craving one like mad, that and something sweet and citrusy, like maybe a lemon or a tangy orange.
“Come on Amelia, she’s carrying a baby in her belly. The baby gets what it wan
ts at this point,” Jacob coos to the stroppy little girl in her booster seat behind me. I grin a satisfactory grin and stick my tongue out at her, which she returns. Jacob pinches my thigh and laughs before saying, “Smug bitch.”
“I’m cute, I get away with it.”
He points at Amelia with his thumb. “Nah, she’s cute so she gets away with it. You’re just an attractive pain in the ass.”
“An adorable, attractive pain in the ass.”
“That too.”
The hut is similar to a place me and my dad used to go whenever we went to Spain. I used to love those trips because he’d pull me from school sometimes and stick a tutor on me who only had to teach me for three to five hours a day, then I’d get to play all day. We used to go down to this beat up little café for lunch on a daily basis even though there were better looking places nearby. I remember asking my dad why we went there, mainly because the place down the road had an outdoor park and I was a kid. He said and I quote, “Because a place like this is struggling and fighting for its right to live, not only do I feel pity for its lack of customers but they also try harder. And by trying harder they get better results, equaling the best sandwiches and pancakes anywhere in this town.”
I asked, “But if they’re the best why does it look like it’s falling down?”
“All it needs is a few decent recommendations. Like your first question, who would want to go to a place like this when they have all of those other places down the road? It’s good to give things a chance Maya, it may just take you by surprise.”
