Blindsided

by Shey Stahl

  I kiss her temple. “By throwing the egg yolk away?”

  She turns to face me, her swollen belly between us. “Last time I checked, egg whites don’t have the yolk.”

  “They don’t, but I crack the egg and throw it in there first.” I take the bowl and look at the clear substance. “You’re doing it wrong.”

  Now she looks like she wants to kill me. And you know, I get this look a lot since she got pregnant. Or maybe I was getting it all along. “How?”

  “You’re depriving the yolk of love by immediately throwing it away.”

  She’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind and I bet you are too. “Whatever. You can make them either way.”

  “No, you can’t. Now your eggs are loveless. I hope you’re happy.”

  And that, that’s the part that earns me a fuckin’ slap to the side of the head. “If you don’t start being nice to me, you’re going to be loveless. Now take Marley to practice driving.”

  “Say what?”

  Do you sense how terrified I am of this? You. Have. No. Idea. Let me tell you something. I’ve ridden with Marley and this is not my idea of a good time.

  I try to protest this, but given my knocked-up wife is about to murder my egg-white-loving ass, I’m not in any position to argue. I try though, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. “What if you go into labor and I’m not here?”

  I’m just going to go ahead and skip the conversation here and tell you how it ends, and that should tell you how that went. It ends with her handing me the keys.

  Do you see Marley and me in the car? I’m not sure who’s more nervous, me or Marley.

  My hands are fucking shaking. We’re in my Bugatti and I’m pissed because it doesn’t make a fuck bit of difference to me who’s in the car, no one drives this car but me. Until now. Until my pregnant wife tells me to. #pussywhipped

  Marley sighs beside me. “Why can’t Ember teach me to drive?”

  “Because she’s making me for some stupid reason.” I motion to the dashboard. “Now start the car.”

  Can you guess what’s playing in the car when the radio comes on?

  One Direction. You’re laughing, aren’t you?

  Sadly, the song is rather catchy, but I’ll never admit that to anyone. Except you.

  As we pull out of the driveway she does well. Until we get out of the suburbs and into the city. That’s when I fight the urge to make a cross over my chest because much like that scene in Clueless where Dion gets onto the freeway, Marley does.

  On.

  The.

  Freeway.

  Teach me to look at my phone while I’m supposed to be paying attention. Cars fly by us at alarming rates and I realize she’s doing forty on the freeway. Pretty sure it’s the slowest speed this car has ever gone. “Speed up!” I yell, regretting this whole situation. How did this happen? Why are we in this car? “If you’re going to drive on the freeway, you have to do the speed limit!”

  What does she do?

  Lets go of the motherfucking steering wheel. “Don’t yell at me!”

  I grab the wheel to keep from kissing a big rig. “I’m sorry, but can you please do the speed limit? And don’t let go of the wheel.”

  Driving with teenagers is the number one cause of heart attacks in parents. I don’t have the statistics to back my theory, but anyone who’s ever had a teenage driver can back me on this one.

  I think back to the movie Clueless and Murray telling Dion to, “Relax and drive.”

  I should try that approach, but I don’t. Before I can say it or guide her to the nearest exit, she jerks the wheel, suddenly careening us to the off ramp. One would think we’re clear now, right?

  One would be an optimistic asshole I’d like to punch.

  “Use your brakes!” She hits the gas instead and I freak the fuck out thinking she’s going to wreck my car. “The one on the left!”

  And all I can think to myself as we’re approaching a red light with cars stopped is we’re going to rear-end them and both die while One Direction is playing. Worst death ever.

  In a hail of blaring horns and without being hit by any other cars, Marley skids to a stop in a parking lot. I turn to Marley. “Holy shit.”

  She gasps. “This car is awesome!”

  Before I can comprehend what’s happening, or what to do next, I get a call from Cat and it’s enough to sober me up from my near-death experience. Ember’s in labor.

  I’m about to be a dad. Again.

  At the hospital, which yes, we made it to in one piece thanks to the speed demon over here. Once she figured out the capability of my car, I had a feeling she’ll be stealing it.

  I point at her, ripping my keys from her hand. “You’re never driving my car again.”

  Marley rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Around the corner of the labor and delivery wing of the hospital, Adler strolls by with a can of Pepsi in one hand and bag of Cheetos in the other. He eyes me, then snorts. “You don’t look so good.”

  “Marley tried to kill me.” I look around the room and notice Kasen in the corner holding onto Haisley and Nalani. “Where’s Braylee?”

  “There’s your problem. Marley drives like shit.” He points down the hall toward the vending machines. “B’s down there getting snacks.”

  Reaching forward, I ruffle his hair and push his head aside, my breathing starting to slow down. “Don’t cuss.”

  Adler stares up at me, his lips orange from the Cheetos. “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Not a good one.”

  Sighing, I step further into the waiting room to see Cat sitting across from Kasen with Haisley now on her lap. “Where’s Ember?”

  Adler slips into a chair and props his legs up on another one. Cracking open his can of pop, he smiles. “Oh, you know. Having a baby.”

  You know those moments when you walk into a room and you’re automatically hated? This is one of them. Your life can change in the blink of an eye.

  The moment I walk through the doors and see my wife, my everything, giving birth, is the moment that changes forever. Again. Much like the first time and though I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this whole dad thing, I like to think I’m a pretty cool uncle, so it can’t be much worse, right?

  Chain gang – The officials on the sideline that hold the yardage markers. Referred to as the chain gang because the first down markers are held together by a 10-yard metal chain.

  I used to give so much of myself to the ones who didn’t deserve it.

  I used to give my heart away like it was a piece of candy waiting to be unwrapped by anyone.

  I don’t give my heart like I used to. Now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be. I’m held captive, chained to a love that’ll last forever. I’m also pregnant and fucking miserable. #notblessed #miserable #fatAF

  It’s probably no surprise to you that Landon knocked me up.

  And now that I’m in labor, yes, I said labor, I have so many unanswered thoughts about having a baby because it’s not like my mom is around to ask, and Cat’s mom lives in Hawaii now. You know those T-shirts people have that say: To be honest, I’m just winging it. Life, motherhood, my eye liner. Everything.

  That’s me. Every day of pregnancy with five other kids to take care of.

  Will my vagina explode? #askingforafriend

  It doesn’t explode, unless you count a baby coming out of it.

  Do you want to know the first thing that Landon says to me the moment he sees our daughter? My legs are fucking spread, I’m holding a bloody, slime-covered baby in my arms and he says, “We should get married.”

  “Really? We’re already married.”

  He smiles. “You just gave birth to my daughter. You look beautiful and I want to fuckin’ marry you all over again. Can’t you just say yes without arguing with me?”

  I laugh as the nurse takes her away and clean
s her up. “Where would the fun in that be?”

  After they’ve finished cleaning her off, they return her to us where Landon takes her in his arms. “Hey there, Saylor Rose.”

  #myheartjustexploded

  Shifting in the bed, I draw in a deep breath, trying to steady my erratic heartbeat. “You look good holding your daughter, but you’re holding her like a football.”

  He smiles. “Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is my newborn daughter.”

  I once heard someone tell my dad, to which he clearly didn’t listen: a daughter needs a dad to be the standard against which she will judge all men.

  Clearly, looking at Landon, I chose the right man to be my baby daddy.

  The kids come in not long after that and the room’s filled with tears and arguing. The tears are from Nalani who’s super upset by Landon holding another baby.

  “Oh, you’re always gonna be my girl too,” he says to Nalani, holding her to his side when Marley takes the baby from him.

  “Is she our sister?” Haisley asks, peeking over Marley’s shoulder.

  “No, she’s your cousin, dummy,” Braylee says, rolling her eyes but just as eager to hold the new addition.

  Landon and I never talked about adding to the brood of kids we already had, and we hadn’t planned on Saylor, but life had a way of giving us exactly what we never thought we wanted.

  Maybe, just maybe, life is about finding beauty in the chaos and submitting to the unknown. The most vivid, breathtaking moments, the ones that you remember forever, those are the ones you never see coming. #blindsided #blessedAF

  Hardest. Book. Ever.

  I struggled so much with this one. I struggled with writer’s block big time and then onto thinking I wasn’t good enough to write Blindsided. I don’t know anything about professional football. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out how they painted those first down lines so quickly on the field only to find out that the television doing that. #confusedAF. After a while, I started pushing out words and hoping like hell they made sense.

  For that reason, I have to thank a group of very special people who were there for me every step of the way reminding me that no matter what was going on in my life, I could and would finish this book.

  Lauren, thank you for always being you. Even though I hate your choice of names and the fact that you can’t remember who was in what book, I love you for it. If you ever forget the name Jameson Riley, I will stop talking to you though. I know I may not say it often, but I’m glad we found each other. #heavysouls

  Becky, this book really should be dedicated to you and your team of amazing people at Hot Tree Editing. Shout out to Mandy too! I constantly hand you girls a manuscript that’s half-assed and jumbled with random dumps of information and you girls guide me through all of it and push me to say what I mean, make my writing descriptive, and I honestly believe I’m a better writer today because of you girls. Thank you so much for always taking the time to be patient with the weird way my brain works. Love you girls! #besteditorsever

  Janet, I can’t do anything without you. Crazy, huh? No, seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. And the fact that I don’t even have to go into detail here explains why. #secondmama

  Melissa, Girl, thank you for proofing this one with such short notice! I really appreciate it. You’re the best.

  The girls in the Sheynanigans, you chicks rock! Thank you for always being there for me at random times of the night and pushing me to continue this crazy dream of being an author. #bestgroupever

  My family, The Boy, Hannah… thank you for understanding when I don’t have dinner done or every free seat in the house has laundry on it. Thank you for loving pizza and tacos so much. #forevertacotuesday

  USA Today bestselling author, Shey Stahl is a lover of sunsets, dirt track racing, and the south, where her soul wants to be. Writing is her passion, giving words meaning, and readers experiences they’ll never forget. Currently she’s living in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and daughter, she can usually be found near a dirt track with an iced coffee in hand.

  Visit her website for additional information and keep up to date on new releases: www.sheystahl.com.

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