Tales of a Sibby Slicker (The Sibby Chronicles Book 2)

by Samantha Garman

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Liar.” His mouth widened into a smile, but his eyes remained closed. “Were you watching me sleep, too?”

  “Just for a minute.”

  “Right,” he drawled, finally cracking an eye.

  “I swear! I—” Covering my mouth with my hand, I flung off the covers and ran to the bathroom. As I bent over the toilet and vomited up my guts, I heard Aidan’s footsteps treading on the wooden floor. I yelled, “Don’t look! I’m disgusting.” I would’ve said more, but my head went back over the toilet for round two.

  Finally, when the morning sickness had its complete and vile way with me, I managed to get up off the floor. I washed out my mouth and splashed some cool water on my face.

  Aidan was sitting on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers when I came out of the bathroom. His hair was still askew, but the sleep had cleared from his eyes, and he was completely awake.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Like I threw up all my organs.” I collapsed onto the bed, belly first.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  I turned my head away. “I might need to hear that a lot in the next many months.”

  He flopped down and spooned me from behind. I felt him press a kiss to my hair. “Okay.”

  “I might need a lot of back rubs, foot rubs, and ice cream sundaes.”

  Aidan laughed and scooted closer. “Someone might be milking this for all it’s worth.”

  “And sex, Aidan. I’m gonna need some sex. I’m going to need physical proof that I don’t repulse you.”

  “What, you mean right now?”

  I pinched his arm, making him squirm. “Not right now, you dingus. Maybe after a cup of coffee.”

  He swept the hair aside to brush a kiss against my neck. “I think that might be doable.”

  I glanced down at my unbuttoned jeans. Currently lying flat on the bed, I attempted to close them, but the button refused to stay put. It popped open again.

  “You will not defeat me,” I stated. “Do you hear me?”

  I tried one more time. Same thing happened.

  It was official. I was too fat for my favorite pair of skinny jeans.

  Slithering out of my pants was an endeavor. They had either shrunk or I had grown. With a sigh of sadness, I folded up the jeans and stuck them on the top shelf of my closet. “So long, old friend. Hopefully we’ll meet once again.”

  An hour later, Aidan found me in the bedroom, standing in my underwear, all my pants scattered across the bed. “Hey. What’s going on?”

  “They turned on me, Aidan. Every last pair.”

  He sighed. “Riddles. My wife speaks in riddles.”

  “Pierogi is making me fat,” I stated. “I can’t button my jeans. And some of them I couldn’t even get past my thighs. How? I’m like a minute pregnant. Have I already gained a bunch of weight?”

  “God,” he moaned. “Why do you ask me that? There’s no way to win.”

  “Have I?” I demanded. “Be honest.”

  “Can’t you”—he swallowed—“get on the scale?”

  I glared at him.

  “I’m failing at this comforting husband thing, aren’t I?”

  “No. I think you’re in husband survival mode.” My shoulders slumped. “Fine. I’ll weigh myself.” I marched into the bathroom. I pulled out the scale from underneath the sink. “We have a pretty good relationship,” I said to the inanimate object. “But I have a feeling we’re about to have a massive falling out.”

  “Sibby? Are you talking to the scale?” Aidan called.

  “No!” I shouted back. With a deep breath, I stepped onto the scale…and watched the numbers blow past my normal weight. “Oh, my God!”

  “What?” Aidan asked, shoving the door open.

  I pointed to the scale in accusation. “It says I’ve gained six and half pounds. How Aidan? How did I do that in three weeks?”

  “Uhm…”

  “Have I been eating too many ice cream sundaes?”

  “You know, math is a tricky thing,” Aidan said, slowly backing out of the bathroom.

  I dismounted the offensive scale and stalked toward him. “Have I?”

  “No. You haven’t. But Sibby, you’re pregnant.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he said again, slowly.

  “I know I’m pregnant,” I snapped.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m eating right—except for the ice cream sundaes—I’m drinking coffee black, no added sugar, and I’m looking into prenatal yoga. I’m reading the books, I’m—”

  “Completely disconnected.”

  I blinked. “Excuse me?”

  He came forward and grasped my hand. Tugging me to the bed, he gestured for me to sit down. “Just listen a second, okay?”

  I nodded for him to continue. Aidan paused a moment, gathering his words. “I know this didn’t happen the way you wanted it to happen. I know you weren’t ready, and I know you wanted more time. And then—”

  “And then the damn condom froze.”

  “Yeah. The condom froze and now we’re having a baby.”

  “I know that.”

  “You’re pissed at me.”

  “I’m not, Aidan. I swear.”

  “Well, something has you pissed. If it’s not me, then—”

  “I’m pissed at Pierogi, okay?” I snapped. “There, I said it. I’m pissed at my unborn child. And what kind of mother gets pissed at her unborn child? The timing of all this…ever since I found out I was pregnant, my whole life changed. Overnight. I’m sharing my body with another occupant. I think about Pierogi first—what can I eat? What can I drink? Am I getting enough sleep? And my career? Forget my career! I’ve barely been able to think about what I want to do with this book I wrote because I DON’T CARE. I don’t care, Aidan, because there’s something bigger going on than even my muse. Do you know how terrifying it is? To feel like you’re losing yourself? It’s like—it’s like I’m on this rollercoaster, strapped in, unable to get off. And I just have to sit back and go along with it.”

  I ended my speech, trembling with emotion, my eyes filling with tears.

  “Come here,” was all he said.

  I climbed into his lap and pressed my face to his neck. He held me and let me cry. And that might’ve been the thing I loved most about him. He didn’t try to offer any words of comfort—he was just there—letting me have all my feelings, rocking me through the storm until it passed.

  “Feeling any better?” Aidan whispered a while later.

  I nodded against his neck. I did feel lighter. Huh. Sharing feelings with my husband…a good idea. Always.

  “Aren’t you scared?” I asked him, pulling back to look at him.

  “Of what?”

  “Of our lives changing?”

  “Well, sure,” he admitted. “But I guess—I don’t know—I’m more excited than scared. Maybe…”

  “What?”

  “Maybe I should be more involved.”

  “You’re involved. How can you be more involved?”

  “Okay, involved is the wrong word. But you’re on a limited diet and you can’t drink. It’s not fair that you have to abstain. So I’ll abstain in solidarity.”

  I blinked. “You want to be miserable, too?”

  He laughed and hugged me tighter. “I just meant, maybe I could be a little more understanding of what you’re going through. I don’t have the hormones to sympathize, so how about I go through caffeine withdrawal and cut out the drinking.”

  “You own a bar.”

  “Never said it was going to be easy.”

  “You’d do that? For me?” I asked, my heart becoming all mushy and gross.

  “For you and Pierogi,” he said with a soft smile.

  I arched an eyebrow. “There’s one more thing I want you to do…”

  Chapter 19

  #benditlikeayogi

  We were in a large open room on the secon
d floor of a converted warehouse. Sunbeams shot through the floor to ceiling windows, painting rays onto the wood floors. The soft sounds of Native American flutes played in the background as women entered the yoga studio. They were all in different stages of pregnancy; some sported small baby bumps, while others looked to be far along in their third trimester.

  Aidan and I had taken two spots in the middle of the room, and we were sitting crosslegged on our mats.

  “They’re judging me,” Aidan whispered.

  “No one’s judging you,” I stated.

  “I’m the only guy here.”

  “You’re sexy and wearing a pair of shorts that show off your lumberjack legs,” I said. “The ladies are a lookin’.”

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  “How bad do you want a beer right now?” I teased him.

  “On a scale of one to ten, about a fifteen,” he muttered.

  “You really don’t have to give it up for me.”

  “I want to.”

  “Okay. Your choice.”

  “You’re not allowed to make a bet with Annie on when I’ll cave.” He gave me a mockingly stern look.

  “I would never do such a thing. That’s like asking you to fail.”

  “On a scale of one to ten, how much faith do you have in my ability to be sober for the next eight months?”

  “Oh, look the instructor is coming.” I faced front and ignored Aidan’s eye roll.

  The young woman who came into the room looked neither pregnant nor homely. She was petite with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and gorgeous red hair that trailed down her back in a long braid. Her yoga pants and sports tank showed off her killer, toned body. She stopped in front of Aidan.

  “Are you sure you’re in the right class?” she asked, her blue eyes taking in all six feet something of my husband.

  Aidan smiled, flashing his dimples. “I’m here to support my wife.”

  The instructor’s eyes slid to me. I held up my hand and waved. “Oh, what happened to your wrist?”

  “I tripped,” I answered flatly.

  “No backbends for you,” she teased.

  “What’s a backbend?” Aidan asked.

  I began to explain, but my words died as the instructor dropped to the floor and demonstrated. She grinned at him from upside down.

  Limber bitch.

  She unfolded herself and stood up. “That’s a backbend.” With a wink, she stalked away, putting an extra sway in her step.

  I looked at Aidan. “Next class better be taught by a gay guy.”

  After class, Aidan and I bought two green smoothies for the walk home. Aidan didn’t even look like he’d exercised. Then again, he played basketball once a week with Caleb. He got his cardio.

  Me on the other hand…my ponytail was limp, my skin was slick with sweat, and my heart rate still hadn’t returned to a normal beat. And yoga hadn’t even been that stressful. A lot of it had been breathing techniques followed by a few simple poses.

  “That was fun,” Aidan said when we got out onto the sidewalk.

  I scoffed.

  He looked at me. “Ah, come on, Sib, don’t be mad. Trisha was just being nice.”

  “There’s nice and then there’s nice.”

  Aidan threw his arm across my shoulders. “I’ve only got eyes for you, love.”

  “I saw where your eyes were the whole class, Aidan. She was doing tricks for you. Like a little circus dog presenting her hind quarters.”

  “Sibby?”

  “What?” I grumbled.

  “Are you the love of my life?”

  I sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Are you carrying my child?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you the most beautiful woman in the world?”

  “If I say yes, does that make me arrogant or delusional?”

  He laughed and pulled me to him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “You mean the only hind quarters you’re interested in are mine?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I want a meatball sub. It’s a physical hunger—not an emotional one.”

  “Okay. I can make that happen.”

  He took my hand as we walked down the street. I finished the smoothie and chucked the plastic container into a trash bin. I heard the sound of barking, and when we turned the corner, there were people milling around, volunteers wearing black long-sleeved shirts and holding clipboards.

  “Puppies!” I yelled in excitement, tugging on his arm. “Aidan, there are puppies!”

  “Let’s cross the street,” he suggested.

  “Why would we do that?” I hauled him toward the fray. “You like puppies!”

  “I love puppies,” he admitted. “I’m just afraid if we go into that mess, we’re gonna come out with a dog.”

  “Scout’s honor we won’t leave with a dog.”

  “You were a rotten Girl Scout. Your pledge means nothing.”

  “I’m ignoring you now.”

  “I thought you wanted a meatball sub.”

  “The meatball sub can wait. I want my puppy fix!”

  There were dogs of all shapes and sizes, ages, and fur lengths. I bypassed the barkers and those that were surrounded by people. I kept walking, my eyes darting from dog to dog. I wanted to play with one that needed—

  A medium-sized brown and white dog with wiry hair was lying on the sidewalk, taking a nap. He paid no attention to the hubbub surrounding him. The volunteer holding his leash smiled at my approach.

  “Who’s this little guy?” I asked, crouching down. I held out my hand. The dog raised his head, sniffed my hand, gave it a lick, and then went back to napping.

  “This is Jasper. He’s three years old, completely housebroken, and loves to take naps.”

  “My spirit animal,” I teased. “Hi, Jasper.”

  Jasper lifted his head, bumped his snoot against my nose, and I swore my heart melted in my chest. I looked over my shoulder at Aidan who had a resigned look on his face.

  I scratched Jasper’s neck, and he rolled over, showing me his speckled belly. “Oh, my God. Are you the cutest?” I leaned over, and with no shame, buried my nose in his fur and sniffed.

  Aidan sighed. “What’s your adoption process?”

  “Uh, they totally lied,” Aidan stated as he dropped to his knees and cleaned up yet another puddle of Jasper’s pee.

  “They didn’t lie,” I said. “Jasper does like to nap.”

  “Yeah, and when he’s not napping, he’s peeing all over the house.”

  “It’s been three days, Aidan,” I reminded him. “He’s just settling in.”

  Jasper sat next to me on the couch, looking up at me with the sweetest brown eyes in the history of the world. “You’re just settling in, aren’t you?” I cooed. “Aren’t you? Boop! Boop!” Tapping his nose, I grinned when his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth.

  Jasper flopped down onto his stomach and then rolled onto his back, putting his head in my lap. I rubbed his belly and sighed with contentment.

  “It’ll get easier,” I told Aidan when he came back from washing his hands.

  “It better.”

  “Pierogi will take way longer to house train,” I reminded him.

  “You mean potty train?”

  “Yeah, that.” I buried my nose in Jasper’s neck, breathing in the scent of oatmeal and cinnamon. We’d given him a bath yesterday, and now he smelled like Christmas cookies.

  “He certainly got accustomed to the couch rather quickly,” Aidan said.

  “At least he doesn’t shed.”

  “I draw the line at him ever being allowed in our bed.”

  “But—”

  “Sibby…”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’m sad we missed Halloween with him. He would’ve been a cute cowboy.”

  “Saints preserve us,” Aidan muttered.

  “Should we take him to meet Santa? That would make an adorable ho
liday card.”

  “Do you hear yourself right now?”

  “What’s bugging you?” I demanded.

  “Aside from the pee I just cleaned up?”

  “Uh, yeah. He’s a dog. Dogs pee. I cleaned up two puddles yesterday.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “You have, Sibby. You’ve barely hugged me, or kissed me. All your attention has been on that dog!”

  I covered Jasper’s ears. “No fighting in front of him. Let’s take this in the bedroom.”

  Aidan rolled his eyes but followed me into the bedroom. I closed the door and turned to face him. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “I feel like you backed me into a corner,” he said. “I wasn’t ready for a dog.”

  I let out a mirthless laugh. “This conversation feels very familiar.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You can’t compare an unexpected pregnancy to an unexpected dog adoption.”

  “You were the one who asked about it!”

  “Because I saw you fall in love with that dog. I literally watched your face soften. What was I supposed to do? Tell you no?”

  “Tell me no?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bad choice of words. But come on, Sibby. This has been a rough three days. We haven’t left the dog alone because you’ve been worried about him acclimating. I miss you. I want to take you out to dinner tonight. It’s the only night I don’t have to be at the bar.”

  My anger eased. “Dinner, just the two of us, would be really nice.”

  “You’ll date me tonight?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, Aidan. I’ll date you tonight.”

  We were at our favorite restaurant in our neighborhood. It had a long marble bar and a speakeasy feel to it. The lighting was low, the food was delicious, and they knew us by name. The bartender even sent over a round of mocktails because he knew I was pregnant.

  Yep, I used the word mocktail. My twenty-year-old self just cringed.

  “Do you think Jasper’s okay?” I asked.

  Aidan looked up from his menu. “Yes.” He smiled. “Did I tell you how gorgeous you are?”

  “Yes, you did tell me how gorgeous I am. But tell me again,” I said with a smile.