by Stahl, Shey
Now imagine that when he’s woken up by Emma. Yeah, that would describe the events that took place the morning before he left. Aiden and I were moments away from killing them both. I don’t know how Jimi and Nancy didn’t eat their young.
Before Jameson had to leave for Texas, Aiden flew in and Emma forced us to go to Babies-R-Us. Her reasoning was for one, I was running out of clothes that fit me, and two, if the baby came early—it would be a huge problem since we had nothing for him.
We drove to Babies-R-Us in Tacoma. Though I was still on bed rest, I convinced Dr. Sears to increase my time among the living to three hours a day. I don’t know why that one hour was such a big deal to me, but you’d think I’d just won the lottery with the excitement I put forth at the new freedom.
The other exciting event that took place was me getting a new car.
We stopped off at a Ford dealership. Jameson of course, had to sign some autographs since along with Simplex, they sponsored him too. He strode out of the dealership taking me by the hand and led me to the lot.
“Pick one.” He told me with a bright smile.
“Huh?” I asked, confused.
“Pick one,” he motioned toward the cars, still smiling with excitement at getting a new car. “I killed the Red Dragon. Aiden killed the Subaru...pick a new car.”
I hated the fact that he was, once again, spending money on me, but when I stalled for time, he simply said, “Honey, we’re not leaving this dealership until you pick a car. Hurry the fuck up.”
So I ended up picking out a brand new black Ford Expedition that Jameson was also pleased with. He signed a shit load of paperwork, handed them his credit card, and then we left in my new car.
Luckily with the sponsorship he got one hell of a deal on the truck or else I probably wouldn’t have been so partial to the idea. I spent the next twenty minutes opening every compartment and clicking every button at least twice. Jameson just smiled.
I’d never had a new car before and the excitement was comparable to the excitement I imagined Tom Hanks felt in the movie Big when he realized there were no parents to tell him to go to bed at night.
Emma and Aiden drove my dad’s Expedition, which made the entire trip much more pleasant. If I never rode in a car with Emma again, it would be too soon.
Once we arrived at Babies-R-Us, I was overwhelmed with how much baby stuff there actually was confined in one location. I mean seriously, do you really need all that stuff? Clearly, I was in over my head. And so was Jameson by the look on his face.
“What the fuck is that?” Jameson asked with a quizzical gaze toward breast pumps.
Aiden simply smiled backing toward the bottles at the other end. I examined the package for a moment because I myself was unsure at first.
“It’s a breast pump, Jameson.” I couldn’t help but smile at him. He was so adorable when confused.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and his eyes met mine for a moment, perplexed, and then looked back at the package in his hand. “What do you use it for?”
“Breast feeding. What else would you do with it?”
He looked even more confused, raising his eyebrows at me to explain.
Just as I was about to explain, Emma walked up with a bunch of maternity clothes in hand and momentarily distracted me at the quantity she was able to carry with her tiny arms, she was like an octopus.
Emma looked at me, then at Jameson, and then the box Jameson was looking at, again.
“I thought...” Jameson did the shifting-nervous-weight-transfer thing. “with breast feeding, that you just...uh you know, use your breast. Why do you need a pump?”
I laughed at the way he said “breast” as if it was a forbidden word or something.
After he set the box down, he backed against the wall running his hand through his hair. I laughed again because Jameson was acting really strange and the only thing I could do was laugh. Neither one of us know anything about raising a child for Christ sakes. I must have given him a strange look after he asked that because he flashed me a small reassuring smile.
“It’s for when you’re not with the baby and you still need to relieve yourself of the milk.” I clarified.
I wouldn’t have known myself either but unlike Jameson, I read those damn baby books the doctor gave us. I only did that because I have so much time on my hands these days.
“WHAT?” Emma gasped snatching up the box. All the clothing she’d been holding fell to her feet. “There is no way in hell I would stick that,” she pointed to the picture of the pump in horror. “on my funbags. It would drain the life right out of them.” she complained throwing the box. “That’s just ridiculous.”
Aiden came back with some bottle nipples as Jameson backed away from the breast pumps.
“These don’t look like your nipples, Emma.” Aiden mused, placing the nipple over Emma’s funbags.
“Oh for Christ sakes,” Jameson groaned stalking away.
Emma and Aiden started laughing, then started kissing.
“Careful, that leads to a flailing spaz.” I pointed out walking toward the clothing department.
As I stood there, skimming through the clothing, I realized how incredibly nervous I was about becoming a mother. It terrified the hell out of me. I had no idea how to even take care of a baby. And I doubted Jameson did either. Just yesterday he thought they were potty trained by one.
At the time I laughed but I wasn’t much better when I thought that you just go to the hospital and the baby comes out, as though it was a scheduled event like going to the dentist. I had no idea you go into labor or anything. Nor did I understand that the weight you gain doesn’t magically disappear when the baby comes out. Needless to say, we were in for a rude awakening with this parenting shit.
After a few minutes, Jameson was beside me again, looking through the racks next to me.
“Hey beautiful,” he pulled me closer and he gently placed both his hands on my stomach over our baby.
I couldn’t describe the feeling I got when his hands would touch our child through my skin. It was such an overwhelming gratification that made me feel closer to him than ever before. We were one person connected by this child inside me. The moment his fingers would graze over the sensitive skin separating our baby from the world, my eyes burned with tears. I forgot all about the responsibilities we had, the women that were now throwing themselves at Jameson. I forgot about my fears of Darrin coming after me again. I forgot about everything with just one touch from this man. Goes to show you the power the dirty heathen can have.
Soon we found ourselves in the stroller aisle where I decided that Jameson was not allowed to touch the stroller. He was already talking about wanting to put an engine on it, which I originally thought might actually be pretty cool, considering I wouldn’t have to push it. But when he thought it would be a good idea to see if Simplex could design some special off-road shock package for it, I drew the line.
That was the day that I came to the distinct conclusion that we had absolutely no business raising a child. Poor little adorable flailing spaz was in for an interesting life. I contemplated looking through the phone book when I got home to find him a therapist. I wouldn’t want him on a waiting list or anything.
Our trip to Babies-R-Us ended rather suddenly when we were asked to leave because Emma and Aiden thought it was appropriate to try out a breast pump, on Aiden, because he didn’t believe Jameson that men could produce milk. I didn’t feel the need to ask where he heard that or if it was true. I had a feeling Spencer was somehow involved in that theory. Just so we’re clear, you can’t test out breast pumps in the store.
Later that evening, Jameson and I were lying in my bed before he had to leave. As it was, we wouldn’t see each other for another three weeks. With only three races remaining, Jameson’s schedule was insane.
Looking over the schedule with him, my response was, “Are you going to have time to sleep?” He just laughed but I was serious.
We
only had an hour before he needed to leave for Olympia to meet Wes, but as I laid there, wrapped in the warm comfort of his arms, sex was the furthest thing from my mind.
That’s a crock of shit as I was always thinking about sex with him, but at that moment I was trying not to. I wanted woo, and the romantic woo that left him holding me.
“I’ll be home soon honey.” Jameson breathed kissing the top of my head and then tucking it nicely under his chin. “And then...”
“Then we get married!” I exclaimed with a beaming smile.
“Yes, then we get married. Finally.”
“So after we get married, then what?”
“What do you mean?” He pulled back to look at me. “I have the awards ceremony in Vegas the following weekend and then Christmas.”
“Well,” I spoke slowly. “I know we can’t go on our honeymoon just yet, with me being on bed rest.”
“We can drive somewhere and then after the baby is born we can go someplace. Just us.” He winked.
“That sounds nice. When does testing start for next season?”
I felt his body tense. “Two weeks after Christmas. I got the Chili Bowl and then testing starts.”
That’s the shitty thing about being a race car driver, you don’t get time off. And when you do, it’s short lived.
Jameson left shortly after that and of course it was a sad tearful goodbye. I wasn’t sure if the tears were from him leaving or from him not taking Emma with him. Either way, there were a lot of tears.
I was in a really crappy mood by the second week without Jameson. It didn’t help matters that I wanted sex, not this reciprocating motion shit either. I wanted a good hard press forging. I wanted the kind of press forging that would leave me walking with a limp. Excuse me for being so blunt but a pregnant woman can only take so much.
When I mentioned this to Jameson, after being an incredible bitch to him one afternoon on the phone, it led to a very descriptive tech support of what he’d do to me in another seven weeks.
It didn’t help my frustration, it just invigorated it. It became its own organism after that.
“What flavor is that one?” Emma asked peering over my shoulder as I ate my ice cream, trying to feed my organism. She was a demanding little bitch. The organism...and Emma.
“Uh...Cheesecake Brownie,” I looked at the front to be sure. “Yeah, Cheesecake Brownie,”
“Let me try it.” She reached over the top of my arm to grab it.
“No,” I pushed Emma off me. “This one is mine. Get your own.”
“But I want to try that one.”
I kicked her drawing my narcotic closer to my chest in a protective measure. “Get your own.”
“But I—”
“No!” I interjected losing control. “I’m sick and tired of you acting like a goddamn child Emma! Grow up!” I shouted and made my way back to my bedroom, leaving Van laughing at Emma. I knew this had more to do with just ice cream but I was having a little breakdown today. I wanted so badly to be with Jameson on his last race but no, I was bedridden.
Fuck you Darrin, fuck you!
I had this clown in my room and I hated clowns. Any time I felt any anger about what Darrin had done to us, I took my frustrations out on the clown. He now only had one arm, half a torso, one leg and his foot was hanging on by a thread. I was convinced he’d be destroyed by the time these three weeks were over.
Feeling slightly like an ass for yelling at Emma, I was about to go find her when Charlie joined me.
“Hey kiddo, scoot over.”
This was a new ritual for us. Charlie and I would lie in my bed, watch reality TV and eat ice cream for hours.
He laid down beside, fluffing a pillow behind his head before looking over at me as he took the lid off his Brownie Batter ice cream. He reached for the new chub attached to his mid-section. “I blame you for this.”
I rolled my eyes. “So do Van and Emma,”
It was silent for a few moments while we ate our Brownie Batter and Cheesecake Brownie until Charlie sighed. “So it looks like the little monsters are mine.”
“Really, I mean, did Andrea tell you?” I turned facing him grunting with the motion because the ice cream was in fact taking up residence in some pretty inconvenient places, like my hips.
“Yeah, at my last appointment...when the doctors said...I didn’t have much time left.” His eyes fell to the ice cream container. “She kind of blurted it out on the way home.”
I nodded as the reality of losing my dad would soon hit home but like everything else, I tried to look forward. Don’t be fooled though, I have a name for this, it’s called denial.
“Do the twins know?”
“Andrea said they’ve known all along.”
“Well, shit...” was all I said.
It explained a lot as to why the Lucifer twins acted the way they did. I was the same way growing up. Well, I hardly think I was that annoying but I could have been to others.
“I can’t believe I’m related to those assholes.” I rolled on my back with another grunt. It was as if I thought the grunting helped me move easier. My hand reached down to my stomach when I felt the baby moving. Maybe he was sea sick from all my movements?
The corner of Charlie’s mouth twitched into a smile. “You’re really starting to show now.”
I glared. “Thanks dad.” I set the ice aside. I needed to stop eating ice cream before I turned into the Good Year blimp.
“Can I?” Charlie asked motioning toward my flailing spaz who was currently flailing around.
“Yeah, go ahead.” I tucked my hands behind my head.
“Have you guys thought of any names yet?” His hand gently touched his grandson.
“We talked the other night on the phone about names but we didn’t really decide on one.”
His eyes light up. “Charlie is a good name,”
Before we could continue; Lane, who flew out yesterday, came barreling into the room with Mr. Jangles. “Whoa buddy, careful there.” I told him reaching for Mr. Jangles. “You’ll throw your back out carrying him around like that.”
“What you feed him?” he asked in his little chipmunk voice, face turning red. I loved how three year olds still left out words. I think I’ll cry the day I have a conversation with Lane and he pronounces words correctly and doesn’t leave any out.
“McDonalds.”
Lane, much like his dad, was like a real live windup toy after a half pint of Brownie Batter ice cream. I just hoped his batteries would die soon. I would not be telling Alley about this either. She warned us before she left that he kind of goes crazy when he has sugar but really, who doesn’t go crazy when they have sugar? Spencer is a prime example, give him a snickers and it’s like watching Mr. Jangles on cat nip. The only difference here would be that Spencer doesn’t crawl around on his hands and knees. He saved that for when’s he’s drinking.
Hanging out with Lane was fun although when I gave him a lollipop he accidentally stuck it in my hair during his animated recollection of how he beat Jameson last week at Wii Tennis. This just confirmed my theory that the incorrigible Lucifer twins were already corrupting him. Specifically when he cackled like Christopher Lee Ray at me for having to cut a piece of my hair just to get the goddamn thing out.
Later that night, without a moment’s rest from the Lucifer twins and their partner in crime, Lane, Emma attacked me with wedding plans.
“Sway, we need to do this.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “You do realize there are only three weeks until your wedding, right?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes...seriously, now pick a goddamn dress already!” She yelled throwing the magazine at me. “I can’t plan a wedding without the dress.”
“I hate you.” I muttered flipping through the ridiculous magazine. I finally settled on one and I couldn’t tell you what it looked like because I really didn’t care. All I wanted was to marry Jameson and it didn’t matter to me if we were naked while doing it.
/> Now there’s an idea...Nah, not with this belly. Besides, your dad will be there and him seeing you naked is not an option.
Emma went on to explain everything else she had planned for the wedding. I nodded picking at my nail polish until she got to the twentieth activity.
“Hey asshole,” I glared. “This isn’t a scavenger hunt. It’s a fucking wedding. What’s with all the activities?”
This did nothing to deter her at all, nor did she answer me. I was beginning to worry about the lack of oxygen going to her brain—it was all coming out her mouth. Jameson was right; she doesn’t breathe enough when speaking.
Two hours later I turned toward her, “Are you finished or are we still having a conversation?”
This didn’t seem to affect her either. I began to wonder if there was in fact something wrong with her. I mean seriously, who has that much energy all the time? It just confirmed my suspicions that she was secretly on some sort of psychostimulant drug.
I never felt bad about drugging her on the way home from New Hampshire. You can’t blame us really, and if you do, you’ve obviously never traveled with her.
On Friday, while Jameson was now in Florida for the last race of the season, he called me after qualifying was over. “Are you excited to see me in three days?”
“Yeah,” I responded wryly, my attention focused on Blubber, Logan’s pet hamster who hadn’t moved from his place on his wheel. He was like a big fat blob.
Logan was convinced I needed parenting skills, which I did. But the fact that a six-year old pointed this out left me somewhat bitter. So he left me in charge of his hamster while he was at school.
“Geez...try to contain your excitement for me,” Jameson replied. “It’s a little overwhelming.”
I could hear the commotion around him and knew he was calling me from the track.
“I’m sorry. I’m hamster sitting and it’s not looking too good. He hasn’t moved all day. And I’m sure he should have shit by now.”
“Uh, that sounds like he’s dead,” He replied with a laugh.
