by Lex Martin
Not that I’ve thought about that specifically or anything.
If I give her—I mean if she were to have—too many orgasms, will she go into labor early?
Can the twins taste lube?
Do I have to tap out at a maximum number of inches of penetration or can she get the whole nine?
Okay, I may have exaggerated a tiny bit on that last one just to see how Dr. Michaels would react. The answers to all of the above were no. She told us all sex was on the table as long as it feels good.
That’s my plan.
Feeling good on the table, on the bed, on the floor…
But I had to ask, Is anal sex okay?
Kendall stifled a laugh, because duh, anal is more than okay.
Anal made these tykes.
The doctor didn’t blink at that last question either. “All sex is fine unless contraindicated, and you have no reason to limit it now. And in fact, Kendall’s sex drive will likely increase in the second trimester.”
She told us this while KK was wearing no panties and had her legs spread on that exam table.
And now I’m thinking about KK wearing no panties and her legs spread—
The hot woman in question interrupts my thoughts by stopping the car at a charming Portland bungalow landscaped with classic rhododendrons and roses that will be gorgeous come summer. She turns off the car. “You ready?”
“Of course,” I say hoarsely. I clear my throat. “Totally.”
I’ll stick with ‘nice to meet you’ and a firm handshake.
We walk up the brick path, and Kendall’s mother opens the door wearing a long, loose skirt and a fuzzy sweater. Her face has the same fine features as Kendall’s, with a gentleness around her eyes showing she’s spent a lot of time smiling. I like her immediately.
“Drew! So nice to finally meet you. I’m Karen Greer.” She shakes my hand, her left one covering our clasped hands. The gesture feels warm and inviting. “So pleased you could join us tonight.” When we step inside, the house welcomes us and smells like something wonderful for dinner.
“Nice to meet you too,” I say, relieved my voice comes out strong. “Kendall’s talked so much about you.”
Her dad rises from his chair and strides toward us, a tall, slim man with a compassionate face, wearing a sweater and cords. Meanwhile, Karen turns and has some sort of psychic communication with Kendall in the foyer that consists of widening her eyes and gesturing toward me with her shoulder. Kendall’s cheeks flush, and she shrugs.
I choose to ignore whatever is going on between them and focus on Mr. Greer.
He extends his hand, and I shake it. “Great to meet the man our daughter is dating. I’m Tom. Welcome.”
“Thanks. She’s pretty great.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
Now to see how they handle the big news.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Karen says. “Come in and make yourself comfortable.”
Tom takes my coat and Kendall’s. “Your endorsement’s helped our girl tremendously. I hear business is booming, kiddo.”
Kendall looks adorably uncomfortable at the praise. He puts our coats in a closet, gives her a hug, and leads us into the living room. KK and I share a couch while her parents take seats in cushy easy chairs. A fire flickers in the hearth to ward against the late winter chill. With framed photos of Kendall and presumably her sister, this room feels so much better than any part of my parents’ house, I’m tempted to move in.
I address her father. “I’m glad the promo video worked well.”
“Not only did it get her more business, it ended up being an excellent way to handle your incarceration,” Karen says, as if this were no big deal.
Kendall’s voice rises an octave. “Mom! What?”
I gulp. Shit. I’d forgotten about that.
Add “got your daughter arrested” to the list of uncomfortable topics for the first meeting with the parents.
Her mom’s face remains neutral and her voice nonchalant. “Oh, we saw the article.”
I turn to KK. “Your parents knew about that?”
“First I heard about it,” she mutters.
“We use the internet, dear. I even have a Google alert set up for you.”
“Oh my God.” Kendall lifts her hand to her forehead and shakes her head, trying to hide.
“We found it to be an interesting article. Although since the retraction from the writer came so soon, we decided it wasn’t real news and didn’t call you about it.”
“It really was all a big misunderstanding,” I say. “Ken did nothing wrong. I made a mistake on the address, and we got snowed in.”
Thankfully, her dad looks amused. “We figured there was some story behind it. There’s no way our Kendall would need to do any breaking and entering.”
I shake my head. “Definitely not.”
“Maybe it will be something you can laugh about when you’re older. I mean, I could tell you some stories from college—”
“Dad!”
“Sorry, pumpkin.” Her dad doesn’t look sorry at all.
Now I want to hear his stories.
Kendall lets out a sigh. “Actually, our trip to Mount Hood ended up being fun. Drew’s gran sent up plenty of food and there was a fireplace, so we were comfortable. And it ended up being a mini-vacation. I couldn’t work because we had no cellphone service or electricity, and the roads weren’t plowed so we couldn’t go anywhere. It forced me to relax.” Kendall’s face reddens just a touch, and I can tell what she’s thinking—that we spent that time relaxing in a very nekkid way.
“You didn’t have electricity?” Her mom wrinkles her brow in concern, but I can’t help but admire her. She’s so different than my mom both in being an actual human who shows concern and not fighting her wrinkles with Botox. If Kendall grows up to be like her, I’ll be a happy man.
Not that I’m getting ahead of myself at all.
I’ve been getting ahead of myself a lot recently.
“We had to rough it up there. But Drew came through.” Her pat on my knee means everything.
What do her parents think about PDA? Because right now I want to kiss her. Instead, I just shrug. “We had to make do.”
Karen’s expression morphs into a smile. “While I was worried, all’s well that ends well, I suppose.” Then she clucks at Kendall. “Though you could stand to be snowed in again if it would give you more time to relax. You work such long hours, honey.”
“I know, Mom, but I need to take advantage of this momentum. My business is finally taking off, and Tristan and I have busted our asses to—”
“And we’re proud of that,” her dad interrupts. “But don’t forget to take care of your health.”
“I know, Dad. I learned from your example. I eat right and exercise. Just because things are a little busy right now doesn’t mean my life is always going to be that way…” I can tell what she’s thinking. Her life is going to change drastically by summer.
“Still, pumpkin, we worry. I don’t want you to have to suffer with those headaches anymore.” Her dad turns to me. “After my heart attack, I had to prioritize what really mattered.”
Karen nods. “It makes a difference. Honestly.” She presses her lips together. “Doesn’t Tristan see how hard you’re working?”
“We’re partners, Mom. I have to pull my weight.”
I clench my teeth at Tristan’s name and ‘partners,’ and my muscles tighten. No matter what Kendall says, I’m not sure I’ll ever like the guy. It’s hard to when he’s the one spending twelve hours a day with my girlfriend. Is it wrong that I want to be the one she thinks of when she says ‘partner’?
You have a female assistant, douchewad. Is it possible you’re being a hypocrite?
I frown, feeling like a turd.
“Still, he should be looking out for you.” Her mom tilts her head thoughtfully. “I always thought he had a thing for you, and you’d think he’d take better care of you—”
“Mom. No. We�
��re just friends. We’ve always been friends.”
“Close friends,” I mutter, more irritated than I have a right to be.
Kendall whips her head to me and reaches out her hand to give mine a squeeze. “Drew, it’s not like that. I promise.”
A timer goes off in the kitchen, sparing me from spilling my guts and confessing that her relationship with Tristan is turning me into a lunatic.
“Ready to eat?” her mom asks. She gets up, but Kendall stays put.
“Um, can we hold off on dinner for a moment? I have something I need to talk to you about, and I’d rather not wait.”
“Sure, honey.” A puzzled look passes on Karen’s face. She goes in the kitchen, turns off the timer, and returns.
Meanwhile, Kendall takes a few deep breaths.
“Want me to tell them?” I murmur in her ear.
She shakes her head no and leans forward in her seat. As she does so, PR Kendall emerges poised, in control, and unemotional.
Her parents gaze at her with expectant eyes.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, and reach out to squeeze her hand.
“I’m pregnant.”
A sharp intake of breath.
A pause.
The words hang in the air like vapor trails from a plane for everyone to see.
And I can tell Kendall wants to take them back.
But then the room falls into uproar. Kendall’s mom rises and gives her a fierce hug. “I can’t believe it! I’m going to be a grandma again. Now Janie will have a cousin. I’m so happy! Congratulations!”
Her dad’s eyes get misty, and he daubs them with his sleeve. “Never thought I’d see a grandchild again so soon. Congratulations.” He gives her a hug and reaches over to shake my hand.
“Actually, two grandchildren,” Kendall says. “Twins.” She digs in her purse and pulls out the ultrasound pictures.
While I adore those ultrasound pictures, the captions say Baby Greer A and Baby Greer B.
I want the photos to say Baby Merritt A and Baby Merritt B.
Caveman thinking at its best, I suppose. But I can’t help wanting everyone to know they’re mine. I’m proud as fuck.
The screech from her mom deafens us. “Twins? You’re having twin babies? Now I know you didn’t need that tantric sex retreat after all.”
I burst out laughing. “Tantric sex retreat?”
“You don’t wanna know,” Kendall whispers, but she’s got a smile on her face and relief in her eyes.
She told them. They didn’t freak. In fact, they’re excited.
My gut tightens when I think about my own parents.
I’d give anything to have them react like this. Because I know, without a doubt, that they won’t be pleased.
Her mom finally lets go of Kendall, and sits down to examine the pictures. “When did you find out?”
“A little while ago. But I went to the doctor this week.”
“Tell me everything! Where were you when you realized you were pregnant?”
“Tristan figured it out, actually.”
Of course. I cross my arms in front of my chest, a hot spear of jealousy tearing through me.
Karen’s eyes widen. “You mean Tristan knew. Before Drew? But”—she pauses to look at me and then back to her daughter—“Drew’s the father, right?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Yeah. You telling him first doesn’t bother me at all,” I mutter, not able to rein in my mouth.
Kendall turns to me. “I’m sorry it happened that way, but it wasn’t intentional. He just figured it out before me.”
My words slip out before I can pull them back. “Because you see him more than me. He’s not planning to name our kids too while he’s at it, is he?”
I mean it as a joke, but it doesn’t come out that way.
What the fuck is my problem?
“I don’t understand why you’re jealous of Tristan. He’s just a friend.” She must see something in my eyes because she threads her fingers through mine. “I swear.” Kendall’s expression is insistent and sincere, and the knot around my heart loosens just a little.
But not too much. Tristan’s still on my shit list.
I rub my face with my other hand, all at once understanding how much is on the line here.
Ever since I heard and saw those babies, on the screen, pulsing with life, I realized that not only do I want a family, but I want this family. With Kendall.
If she’ll have me.
“So does that mean you two are considering tying the knot?” her dad asks. “Drew, are you planning to marry my daughter?”
I freeze, my heart hammering in my goddamn throat.
Fuck. Why didn’t I plan for him to ask this?
But before I can react, Karen tuts. “Don’t pressure them, Tom. Let them handle one thing at a time.”
Kendall clears her throat. “Exactly,” she says quietly, her eyes darting away. “We’re just talking about babies here. No one says we have to get married.”
My body feels heavy all of a sudden.
Is marriage not in Kendall’s vocabulary? Because when we were in the doctor’s office, I almost dropped down on one knee and proposed to her right then and there. I thought of it when I handed the receptionist my credit card to pay for her visit and told myself if I married her, she’d get better health insurance with my company.
But I was lying to myself.
I want to marry her because I’m in love with her.
I want to marry her, and I knew it before the health insurance issue came up. I just want her. Babies or no babies, I’d want forever with her, and I’ve been a jackass to not see it sooner.
For years, she’s been under my skin, and since we’ve drawn a truce, I can’t get her out of my head. Nor do I want to.
This pregnancy has forced me to think about a lot of things. Like what I want in life and who I want to spend my life with.
Her. I want her.
She brings out the best in me. She makes me want to step up and be the dad I never had.
But moreover, she makes me want to be her lover. Her husband.
Fuck, I love her so much it hurts to think that she probably doesn’t feel the same.
But I don’t want to scare her away. So if keeping this relationship in dating mode will do that, I’m down.
Even if it kills me inside.
With a few more hugs on all sides, we head into the dining room and eat Karen and Tom’s delicious meal. We talk about the babies and our jobs. Her parents want to know about mine, and I show them Detention’s Instagram page.
Thankfully they laugh.
Karen asks, “When can we meet your parents, Drew?”
The thought of these kind people meeting my immediate family makes my skin crawl. “I don’t know, but I’ll have to set it up.”
“We’d like that. And we’d like to have them over as well.”
Like that will work.
“Sure,” I say, trying not to wince. “I’ll ask.”
When we’re in the car headed back to Kendall’s apartment, I try to look for the silver lining today.
“Your parents took that really well. I shouldn’t be surprised. They made someone like you.”
“That’s a nice thing to say.”
“I mean it. They’re awesome. Not like…” I trail off, not wanting to finish my sentence, but she picks up on my meaning.
“When are you going to tell your parents?” she asks softly.
I scrub my hands over my face. “I’ve called a few times, but they haven’t been around, and I don’t want to leave a voicemail message.”
Her sigh kinda kills me. It feels like I’m disappointing her. And I hate that.
“I’d like to meet them,” she whispers as she stares out the window.
“Yeah.” I twist my watch. “I’ll work on that.”
A hot, sick feeling washes over me.
Shame.
And guilt.
Because as much as I want my family to be wa
rm and welcoming to this incredible woman and our twins, I can’t imagine any scenario where that’s even a remote possibility.
She sits back in her seat. “Drew, I want to know you. I feel I’ve brought you into my world—you know all about me. You’ve been to my work, now you’ve met my parents. You’ve met my friends. But I don’t know your life at all.”
Her sad eyes stab me in the gut.
“Is that really how you feel?”
The silence says everything she doesn’t.
“Fuck, Ken. I’ve let you in… I’ve let you in more than any person ever.” I shake my head, wanting her to understand. “Look, my family isn’t like yours. They’re not going to pat me on the back or congratulate us.” I’m at a loss for how to describe the emotional wasteland of the Merritt household. “But I don’t give a shit what they think. You’re the only thing that matters, and you know more about me, the real me, than anyone.”
Because it’s Portland, rain beats down on the car out of nowhere. But it feels portentous somehow, the steady drumbeat surrounding us reducing the scope of the world to this woman next to me. The one who doesn’t seem to know what she means to me.
We’re quiet for a long time, just the sound of the tires and windshield wipers and rain.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “You’re right. I guess I don’t understand, but that’s kind of my point. I want to understand.” When we reach a light, she turns to the side, addressing the windshield. “This is still new. Even though we’ve been acquaintances for years, we still don’t know a lot about each other. Maybe we need to figure out what our relationship means to each other.”
“Maybe.” I know I don’t sound convinced.
I’d tell her what our relationship means to me in a heartbeat, but based on her quick dismissal of marriage earlier this evening, I’m so off base about her feelings, I’m not even on the map.
Cringing internally, I imagine how she’d react if I proposed. She’d turn me down like a bedspread. And I’d embarrass the hell out of her.
I don’t want to pressure her into saying something she doesn’t mean.
