Surprise, Baby!

by Lex Martin

I nod, wondering if I’m making up things in my head. Drew treats me well. Really well. Then why do I feel like something is missing? Like he doesn’t want me like that anymore?

  “Do you have time to meet up for lunch later?” I ask hesitantly. I’ll have to move around my whole schedule this afternoon, but I want to get to the bottom of this. We’ve been dancing around this issue long enough.

  “Probably not. I’m scouting that second warehouse today. How about dinner?”

  “I’m prepping the marketing materials for the new boutique on Nob Hill.”

  “What about dinner tomorrow?”

  “Can’t. Tristan and I have an event at Waterfront Park.”

  He runs his hands through his hair, looking suddenly annoyed. “Please tell me it’s indoors and you won’t be standing in the rain all evening.”

  “It’s at that mansion. I’ll be fine.” If I’m being honest, the thought of having to do anything this week but sleep makes me want to crawl into the closet. But I’m about to take three months off for maternity leave, and I need to make sure everything’s in order first.

  He nods. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you soon.”

  My shoulders deflate when I realize we’re this close to having the twins, and I’m not sure when I’ll see Drew.

  “The shower,” I blurt out. “It’s Saturday. Don’t forget.”

  A frown tugs at his brows. “I’d never forget that.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Tell Tristan when you need a break and be sure to take it.”

  Leaning over, he kisses me briskly on the forehead and walks out.

  As if I have to ask Tristan for permission. Please.

  I sigh and listen to the front door close behind him.

  We’ve had this argument before. He thinks I work too much. I think he can go fly a kite.

  That’s the easy argument.

  The tough one? The one I can’t bring myself to say out loud?

  I want to ask why he won’t sleep with me anymore.

  But I’m afraid I already know the answer.

  33

  Kendall

  “Don’t you think that’s odd?” I whisper into the phone. “Don’t you think this is more than a ‘dry spell?’”

  It pains me to have to discuss my sex life with Brooke, but she’s gone through pregnancy before.

  A long pause greets me on the other end before my sister says anything. “Mark and I didn’t have sex after the first trimester. He told me he felt like a deviant fucking the mother of his children, especially once he could feel the baby move.”

  I’m locked in the bathroom like a weirdo, whispering to my sister when I should be getting ready for my baby shower.

  As much as I hate to admit it, she’s making a lot of sense.

  “But everything went back to normal afterward?” I push my damp hair off my face and grip the towel around my torso. “Please tell me you boinked like bunnies after you had Janie.”

  “You mean while I was juggling diaper duty and midnight feedings and nipples that were sore from being gnawed on all day? Sure.”

  “You’re supposed to give me a pep talk. Not make me want to throw myself off the ledge.”

  “I won’t sugarcoat it, Kendall. You wanted the truth, and I gave you an honest answer. Drew probably doesn’t see you as a sexual object right now, and I’m guessing it’s unlikely he will for a while after you give birth. Let him jerk off. Who cares?”

  I care. I miss that intimacy with him, and if I have to go the last four weeks of the pregnancy in this state of limbo, I’ll go postal.

  “Now, don’t get upset.” She pauses again. “But maybe he’s waiting until the babies arrive to break up.”

  Dragonfire heartburn tears through my esophagus, making my eyes sting. Or maybe I’m already crying. It’s hard to tell.

  My sister rambles on like she’s not drilling nails into my soul. “Did he ask you to move in?”

  “Yes, a few months ago, but I told him no.”

  At the time I thought we needed to be a normal couple and ease into this, not merge our lives at lightning speed. I’m the first significant relationship he’s had, and I wanted us to take our time. Which is why I told my parents I didn’t want to get married—because I didn’t want Drew to feel pressured.

  Only we’ve both been so busy, it’s been a challenge to do anything “normal” like date. Case in point—I barely saw him this week despite how much I wanted to have a heart-to-heart with him.

  “Did that upset him? You turning him down?”

  I bite my lip. “He seemed fine. Like it was no big deal.”

  She hums in my ear. “Maybe it’s good that you kept your place. If this relationship doesn’t work out, at least you won’t be homeless.”

  My knees get wobbly, and I lean against the bathroom vanity. “I gotta go,” I croak into the phone. “Don’t say anything about this to anyone.”

  “I’ll see you at the shower. I’m excited it’s at Josh and Evie’s! Do you think I can get them to donate to the ballet?”

  I roll my eyes. “Bye.”

  The knock on the bathroom door makes me flinch, and I re-tuck my towel around my melon-sized boobs.

  “Babe. You doing okay?” Drew’s laidback voice instantly calms me. That’s not how someone who wants to break up talks to you, right? “Can I help with anything? We need to leave in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’m okay.” Mostly. “Could you grab me a ginger ale for the car?”

  “Sure thing. Lemme know if you need help getting dressed.”

  I gaze at the locked door in the mirror until his footfalls tell me he’s walked away.

  I won’t ask him for help getting dressed because I can’t bear for him to see me like this. Sporting underwear ten times larger than I usually wear. Waddling around like a hot air balloon about to burst. Swollen everywhere and not in a sexy way.

  Letting the towel drop, I stare long and hard at myself. At the road map of stretch marks. At the dark line that extends up my belly. At the fur lining my crotch because I can’t reach my pelvis to shave.

  Do I think birth is miraculous and amazing?

  Absolutely.

  But I’ve felt like shit for almost the entire pregnancy thanks to the extra hormones of having a second bun in the oven, so I’ve been pretty miserable.

  Can I blame Drew for not being attracted to this?

  Not at all.

  I can’t lie—what Brooke said has me reeling.

  It’s possible Drew feels responsible for getting me pregnant and is trying to be a good guy and just see me through it.

  Which means he doesn’t love me. Not like I love him.

  And how can I not love him? He’s been here for me every step of the way.

  Except being a good boyfriend to the girl he’s dating because she’s knocked up doesn’t mean he wants forever.

  It means he’s a responsible person. Not that he’s in love.

  He hasn’t even introduced me to his parents or his friends. I don’t need to ask Brooke her opinion to know she’d say I’m a case study for a Cosmo article: How to tell if he’s not that into you.

  Maybe that’s why I’ve waited until the last possible moment to have this baby shower. Why I’ve devoted every spare second to my job.

  Drew might fade out of my life once the babies arrive. Sure, he’ll be in their lives, but that doesn’t mean he wants me as a part of that equation.

  Because my intuition tells me he’s being cagey.

  At the top of the list of what he’s hiding is the very real possibility he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.

  And I’m not sure what to do about that.

  34

  Kendall

  The drive to Josh and Evie’s condo is quiet. Drew glances at me from time to time, but we don’t say anything.

  “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” I dig through my purse to grab a mint. “Evie thought a Jack and Jill shower would be cute, but I know guys are never into this sort of t
hing.”

  “I don’t mind staying. There’ll be cake, right?”

  He’s making a joke, and I force a smile.

  He’s trying. I can see it in his eyes. But why is he trying? Because he wants the mother of his children to be happy so his kids are healthy or because he wants me to be happy?

  Drew can’t even eat the cake. Damn it. Why didn’t I think to get something sugar-free for him too?

  “You okay? You’ve been sighing a lot lately.”

  Now is not the time to unleash the rant that’s been developing in my head since I got off the phone with my sister. I nod and take a sip of my ginger ale. “Just tired.”

  That’s the wrong thing to say because his jaw tightens, and he’s quiet again. He’s probably still mad I worked so late this week.

  But then he taps on the steering wheel. “Don’t forget that after the shower, I’m hanging out with Ian. He’s only staying with me another night, but then I’ll be by your place to help you unpack the shower gifts.”

  Another one of his bros I haven’t met.

  I don’t say anything, but what’s there to say? ‘I want to meet your friends, but you never offer?’ That sounds desperate.

  By the time we reach Josh’s condo, all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for the next three days, but if we wait any longer to have this shower, my mother is going to go ballistic. She says I’m pushing my luck to wait until I’m almost thirty-six weeks.

  Drew parks and then comes around the car to haul me out. Just as I’m standing upright on the street, one of the babies gives me a swift kick to my ribs.

  “Fuck me sideways.” I press my palm to my belly. Everything in my stomach tightens, and I screw my eyes shut.

  “Oh, baby, you okay?” Drew pulls me against him, and I let him embrace me even after the pain in my side subsides.

  “Yeah, sorry.” I breathe him in. The crisp scent of his body wash. The warmth of his skin. His aftershave. The words are on the tip of my tongue. I love you. And I want you to love me too.

  I take a step back. “Your kids are going to be soccer players.”

  His wide smile is so beautiful, it almost brings tears to my eyes. How long has it been since he’s smiled like that?

  “I don’t care what they decide to do as long as they’re happy and healthy.”

  I return that smile because my weird head issues are nothing compared to that goal—deliver two babies safe and sound.

  He laces his fingers through mine, and for a second I wonder if I’ve been making an issue where one doesn’t exist. I know Drew cares about me. Maybe he’ll even love me some day. Granted, this is not how I’d choose to write my own love story, but life—real life—is not a Disney movie. I have the stretch marks to prove it.

  We make our way up to Evie’s condo, and Tristan opens the door.

  “Hey, preggers.” He pulls me into a side hug.

  Drew gets that weird tic in his jaw.

  I default into work mode anyway. “Did you get my email about the Larimer account? You’ll need to call her for a one-on-one. I told her I was going on maternity leave, and—”

  “Stop working, my little psycho. The job isn’t going anywhere.” Tristan makes a face at me, and I stick out my tongue.

  “Whatever. You’ll be crying when I’m not at the office to save your ass.”

  “Truth.”

  I turn to tell Drew a story about one of our clients, but he’s not there. He’s on the other side of the room talking to Josh.

  Needing to blink quickly, I find myself getting choked up.

  Why do I feel like he just ditched me?

  There’s no time to wallow, though, because my mom, dad, and Evie run up to me.

  After hugging them all, I feel a little more centered. “Thank you so much for putting this together.”

  I finally get a good look at the decorations.

  Delicate Chinese lanterns crisscross the ceiling. A buffet of food sprawls across the back of the room. Dozens of balloons sway above one of Josh’s leather recliners.

  “That’s where the star of the party gets to sit and open all of her gifts,” Evie explains as she waves toward a mountain of presents. “And don’t worry. Josh says he’ll personally recycle the balloons.”

  We all laugh.

  “The girls did everything,” my dad confesses. “I just got a head start on the shrimp cocktail.”

  “This is so beautiful.” I’m overwhelmed in the best way. My sister waves at me from across the room, and I wave back. I might not have liked what she had to say on the phone this morning, but perhaps I needed to hear the truth.

  She’s talking to Drew’s grandmother. Aww.

  Music swells, and I turn to find a quartet playing Somewhere Only We Know in the corner.

  “This is too much, guys.”

  I realize my friends are loaded, but I have a healthy appreciation for what things cost.

  “Nonsense,” Evie says. “We wanted your shower to be perfect, and every time we go to a cocktail party, you always say how much you love quartets.”

  “Thank you. This is amazing.”

  We’re hugging it out when a gruff voice behind me makes me turn. “Hey, sunshine. Congratulations.”

  “Mr. Mills! I can’t believe you’re at a baby shower!” Evie’s dad is like a surrogate father to me.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He pats me on the shoulder and motions toward my belly. “You’ve been busy!”

  I chuckle. “Yup. It’s hard work percolating my babies, I’ll tell ya.”

  “Where’s your man? I gotta give him the hairy eyeball for knocking you up.”

  I let out a loud bark of laughter, and he cracks a smile. Seriously, though, I know Evie’s dad would want to go toe-to-toe with Drew if he ever did me wrong. I give the old guy another grateful hug and tell him to load up on the buffet.

  “Hey, who’s that over there?” I whisper to Evie.

  Motioning toward the beautiful woman with long, black hair and tattoos talking to Drew, I try to tap down my jealousy. It’s obvious they’re close. They’re chatting with Josh and laughing.

  “That’s Drew’s assistant Frankie. Haven’t you met her yet?”

  Negative. I have not met her. I’ve spoken to her on the phone a few times, but they were short conversations, and I’ve only been to his office on the weekends when there was a shell crew working.

  That’s who he spends all of his time with? She’s gorgeous and edgy and confident. Thin. The way I used to be before I got pregnant and too bloated to walk without a waddle and cankles.

  I look down at my pumpkin-colored shirt and want to hide under the table. Frustration overwhelms me. Frustration for hating that I’m the size of an economy car. Frustration over hating how I look. Because femininity is awesome and all that, and deep down, I want to embrace the power of my body to procreate, but I’m too close to tears to do it.

  “Roh-roh.” Evie leans closer to me. “What’s going on?”

  Taking a deep breath to calm down, I ask her what’s really got a burr up my ass today. “Did Drew invite anyone other than his grandmother and assistant to the shower?”

  One glance at her face tells me everything I need to know, and in this split second of communication, she understands what I mean by asking.

  All of my friends are here. Both of my parents. My sister. My coworkers. Hell, even a few of my best clients showed up.

  While my boyfriend invited two people.

  Even though one of his friends is staying at Drew’s this week. And my significant other is one of the most popular guys on Instagram. So Portland Today tells me.

  And I don’t even know if Drew has told his parents that we’re dating, much less having twins.

  “Josh is here!” Evie points out.

  I scoff. “Nice save.” Shaking my head, I grab her hand. “Whatever. It is what it is.” See, I can be Zen. I’ll show Drew how goddamn Zen I can be. “Let’s baby-shower the fuck out of today.”


  Because I am done tiptoeing around this issue with him. We’re having that conversation tonight, come hell or high water.

  35

  Drew

  As I take in Josh and Evie’s extravagantly decorated home for this special occasion, I’m so fucking relieved the only people here are friends and family Kendall and I genuinely care about and would do anything for—Ken and the buns in her oven, Josh and Evie, my Bee, Frankie, and any and all of Kendall’s peeps, since if she cares about them, I care about them.

  The only thing that matters is that Kendall’s happy.

  I’m not sure she is, though.

  She’s smiling, but there’s a heaviness in her eyes. Her grin ramps up when she talks with Evie or Evie’s dad, but wanes with everyone else. And she’s got a hand on the side of her belly most of the time, since one or both of our little buggers is being particularly kicky.

  Part of me wants to go over and talk with her, but I think that’s a bad idea. She needs space to enjoy the party without me hovering over her like a drone, even though being physically separate from her in the same room makes me lonely somehow.

  Perhaps seeing everyone today is reminding me who’s not here.

  Of course my parents declined my invitation.

  It’s probably for the best. I wish they were different, that they’d be the kind of people who’d love this instead of only thinking of how my actions reflect on them.

  But that’s not gonna happen.

  Frankly, I wish they were like Kendall’s parents, who are #couplegoals. Seeing where she came from makes me want to shield her from ever experiencing the dysfunction of my family, though, so I didn’t insist they come.

  I’m even more grateful I don’t have to deal with any of my asshole “friends.” Our baby shower shouldn’t be a welcome place for anyone I’ve ever gotten high with. While I’ve tried for months to stay away from my old crew, it’s hard. A few won’t go away—like Ian, who showed up in town yesterday and wanted to crash. Fine, dude, but no invite to this event. It’s too special.