by Jacki Renée
I look up at him.
“You think I’ll let you push me away so you can go through this pregnancy alone,” he says.
I don’t have to answer. He knows what I’m thinking.
Bryan smiles as his hand slips under my pajama top, resting on my stomach. “I love you and we’re adding to our family.” The excitement shows in his eyes.
“I love you too.”
He leans down, softly brushing his lips over mine. “Tell me what you want.”
We talk about his sexual history and the number of women he’s slept with. I’m relieved to know he always uses condoms, but his number is well into the double digits. He gets tested regularly.
We talk about us having more children. Bryan wants the baby. Termination was never an option for him.
Bryan and I finally get over the impasse and finish the conversation we started three months ago.
Around one in the morning he raids the kitchen. My stomach is growling. We talk until sunrise and decide to wait before we tell everyone, including the girls. He hopes it’s a boy because he’s outnumbered by the females in the house. Trevor doesn’t count because the dog’s loyalty can be swayed by a doggie treat. Bryan says he will be happy if we have another girl. He wants her to have my brown eyes.
Bryan vows to travel this journey with me and he’s happy his sister is my doctor. He’s going to take care of me, starting with taking the girls to work with him so I can get some rest.
I wake up in the afternoon and go downstairs to the kitchen with the tray of dishes. Jessica is at the table typing on her laptop.
I hug her from behind, kissing her cheek. “Good afternoon.”
She squeezes my hands.
I put my prenatal vitamin and iron pill on a napkin and go to the sink to rinse the dishes and stack them in the dishwasher.
In the walk-in pantry, I pull out ingredients to make buttermilk waffles.
“Hello, Danielle. I was going to wake you and make you eat something. Are you sick?” Marie walks out of the laundry room. “You didn’t eat last night.”
“I ate dinner at one in the morning, but I’m really hungry now.”
“Sit down, let me prepare something for you. What would you like?”
“I can fix it, Marie. I don’t want to disrupt your routine.”
“Nonsense, dear. Tell me what you want.”
“I’d really like waffles with warm maple syrup, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon.” My mouth waters at the thought.
“So?” Jessica gestures to the pills on the napkin.
I know what she’s asking, but I’m not making this easy for her.
“So what?” I open the refrigerator, pouring grape juice into a small glass.
“Oh come on,” she sings. “You know what I’m asking.”
I feign innocence. “I have no idea what you’re asking.” Smiling, I sit across from her.
“Did you tell Bryan?” she shouts. The griddle hits the counter top. “Sorry, Marie. I didn’t mean to startle you. Danielle’s bout with amnesia is infuriating.”
“Would you like waffles too?” Marie asks.
“No, thank you.” Jessica turns to me. “I’d like an answer from Danielle.”
I swallow the pills and drink all the juice before I answer. “Yes, I told him.”
“And?” she growls.
“And what?” I laugh.
Her hand hits the table. “Danielle! Don’t make me reach across this table and strangle you.”
“He told me he loves me and our family is growing.”
Marie gasps.
“You cannot tell anyone. We’re waiting to tell everyone.”
Jessica squeals, jumps to her feet, and runs around the table. She almost knocks me out of the chair, throwing her arms around me.
Marie drops the griddle and rushes to me, embracing me the way a mother would embrace her pregnant daughter. She wipes her eyes and goes back to preparing my brunch. The two demand minute-by-minute details on how I told him and his reaction.
Marie joins us at the table after she sets a plate-sized buttermilk waffle in front of me. I drown it with the maple syrup, then dig-in with enthusiasm. I answer their questions between each forkful of food.
When I tell them Bryan said he’s traveling this journey with me, Marie fans her face to keep from crying.
For dinner, I convince Marie to surrender the kitchen. I make one of Bryan’s favorites, red beans and rice.
The rest of the weekend we unpack the last of my boxes and get the girls ready for their return to school.
Bryan confesses to telling his friends about the baby. I confess to telling Marie. She’s constantly feeding me.
Sunday evening Jessica receives back-to-back phone calls from Samantha.
I answer her phone, moaning.
“Who is this? Where’s Jessi?”
“Jessi’s mouth is full at the moment, but I’ll gladly give her a message after I come.” I pant and moan.
Bryan snatches the phone out of my hand, disconnecting the call. He throws us a disapproving frown.
Jessi and I fall on the floor laughing. I wish I’d done this in high school.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Monday morning is a big change for all.
I’ve been in and out of Emma’s room three times trying to get the girls up and ready for school. I’m also getting myself ready for work.
After the fourth time going in and pulling the covers off, I’m about to explode. Alpha male steps in.
“Girls. Get out of bed. Brush your teeth. Wash your face. Get dressed and let Dani do your hair, then go down to breakfast.”
His voice carries to the other side of the house. The next time I go to check on them, they are dressed.
Bryan and I agreed that I’ll drop them off in the mornings and he’ll pick them up after school. This morning I go into the school’s office to do a change of address and add Bryan to Kourtney’s emergency card. I also add Jessica, Marie, Willis, and Bryan’s friends.
I add Jessica and myself to Emma’s emergency card and walk the girls to class.
“Good morning, Ms. Williamson. How was your vacation?” I ask.
She ignores me and greets another parent.
I kiss Kourtney and Emma. “Have a good day. I love you.”
A few blocks from the hospital, I’m stopped at a red light and I check my rearview mirror. A black SUV is a few cars back. It looks like the one that pursued the prowler in my apartment. The light turns green. I drive five blocks and turn into the hospital’s employee parking lot. The SUV keeps going straight.
Vanessa Larson waves to me. She’s standing by her car. She greets me when I get out of my truck. Her start time is an hour before mine. She must be running late today. Together, we walk to the entrance of the hospital. When I get to my desk, I receive a text from Max. He’s bringing lunch to my office today instead of us going to a restaurant.
We survive the first week of Operation Return to School. Bryan now wakes Kourtney and Emma in the mornings. Not because of their back-to-school blues. He’s doing it so I can get a few extra minutes of sleep.
On the desk in his home office, I find a bunch of books on pregnancy. He’s writing notes in the margins, which I think is adorable and I love him even more. Marked on the calendar is the date and time of my first prenatal appointment at the end of the month.
After a few tweaks here and there, the four of us settle into a daily routine.
***
As we walk across the street heading to the medical building, Bryan tells me about the things he’s reading in the baby books. I tease him about acting like he’s a first-time dad.
Jessica reviews my medical file from Arizona and goes through the checkup. We hear the baby’s heartbeat and Bryan has the biggest smile on his face.
“How far along are we?” he asks.
Jessica looks up from the monitor. “Would you like to see?”
Bryan nods enthusiastically.
She turn
s the monitor, pointing to the circle at the top of the screen. “The fetus is measuring at about eight weeks, which means you guys conceived somewhere between”—she types on the keyboard—“December twentieth and December twenty-fifth.”
“He’s our Christmas present,” Bryan says, grinning at the monitor.
“He?” I ask.
One of his eyebrows arches and he holds up two fingers.
Jessica prints a picture, handing it to her brother. “That’s enough with the sappy sentimental crap. Get out of my exam room.”
Bryan uses a towel to wipe the gel off me and helps me down from the exam table. He keeps his hand on the small of my back as he walks me across the street, back to my office, locking the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He stalks toward me. I step back until I bump into the wall. Bryan lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist.
“What I wanted to do the first time I came to your office.”
Please do, Mr. Tall-And-Sexy.
***
Kourtney’s birthday is on a Tuesday this year. Bryan wants to throw her a big party the Saturday before.
When I veto a decorator, Kourtney and Bryan lock themselves in his office to plan without me. I’m told its teddy bear themed and that’s all.
Every night after dinner, they go to his office and Bryan is being annoyingly smug. The girls are getting a kick out of watching him taunt and tease me about his superior party planning skills.
“Do you have time for lunch?” he walks into my office after knocking. “The special decorations I ordered came in. They’re at the mall. We can grab lunch there.”
“I don’t have any patients today. I’ll email Dr. Stevens to let him know I’m leaving early.” I type the message before shutting down the computer and locking up my office. “Let me take my truck keys to Jessi. She rode in with me this morning.”
I dash across the street and give my keys to Isabel, Jessica’s receptionist. “Please tell Dr. Hawk I’m riding home with Bryan.”
“Not a problem, Dr. Edwards. Have a good weekend.”
Bryan pulls up in front of the medical building. I spot a black SUV parked at the curb a few cars up.
“What did you order and why couldn’t it be delivered to the house?” I ask, climbing in and securing my seat belt.
“Last minute purchase,” he says, pulling away from the curb.
The windows on the SUV are tinted dark. I can’t see inside when we pass it. I keep an eye on the side-view mirror. The truck doesn’t pull away from the curb. I turn my focus back to Bryan. He assures me the extra decorations are essential to the bear theme.
We walk through the mall holding hands and come up on the Baby Store. Bryan stops to look at the window display.
“When can we buy things?” he asks.
“Let’s wait until I’m seven months and we know the sex of the baby.”
Disappointment flashes in his eyes.
“Okay, you can buy one thing and that’s it.”
He drags me inside.
We stroll up and down every aisle. He inspects items before settling on what he wants to purchase. I guess I should have been more specific. Our baby’s custom-made crib and mattress will be delivered in three months.
“I thought you’d buy a bib that says I Love Daddy or something like that.” I pull him toward the door. “Considering the amount of money you just spent, that thing better change diapers in the middle of the night.”
Bryan kisses the back of my hand, following me to the Teddy Bear’s Cave store.
“Do you think Kourt will always be obsessed with stuffed bears?” he asks carrying the packages out of the store.
“She’ll grow out of the fascination when she discovers boys aren’t ugly boogers. But Mr. Cuddles will always be her first teddy bear love.”
The smile on his face warms my heart.
“I hope she never grows out of it,” he mumbles.
Dylan Hill has been less touchy-touchy and more verbal about his feelings for Kourtney. Ms. Williamson was right: Dylan likes her and its driving Bryan crazy.
We find a table in the food court. I order a double cheeseburger loaded with extra mustard, extra tomatoes, extra, extra pickles, grilled and raw onions and a side of steak fries.
“So you’re eating red meat now?” he asks.
I shrug. “I stopped eating it when I was pregnant with Kourtney. It made my stomach turn. But I have a taste for it now. I should have known something was up when I didn’t think twice about eating those asada tacos on New Year ’s Eve.”
When Bryan sets my food in front of me, I take a big bite and hum in appreciation. I don’t encourage conversation. Instead I grunt my answers to his questions as I eat. I know my chosen form of communication is frustrating him, but holding a conversation is interrupting my meal. I plan on consuming every morsel in front of me.
“Had enough?” Bryan asks when I push my plate away.
“I’m stuffed.” I lean back. “But can we get an ice cream cone before we pick up the girls?” I check my watch.
“What flavor do you want?” He stands and picks up our tray.
I smile a sweet, innocent smile. “Butter pecan, pecan praline, and black walnut with whipped cream, chopped nuts and extra caramel.”
He shakes his head and walks away from the table. I get that familiar throbbing between my thighs, watching his easy stride across the food court to get ice cream.
It’s amusing to watch other women react to him. My man looks good in his suits, doesn’t he? I must send a thank you note to whoever tailors his clothes.
My smile fades. Two women elbow each other and follow Bryan to the ice cream shop. They smile at him when he opens the door like the gentleman he is. One purposely tries to brush her body against his, but he quickly moves out of the way. Look, but don’t touch, ladies. Mr. Tall-And-Sexy belongs to me.
I laugh at their attempts to get his attention. In the end, they leave the store without cones or his phone number.
My mouth waters as he walks back to our table, and it’s not because of the scrumptious waffle-bowl he’s carrying on a plate. My eyes follow the movement of his thighs with each step he takes. Bryan knows I’m checking him out. I don’t hide the fact that I’m mentally undressing him.
“What’s the extra spoon for?” I ask, scooping a spoonful of the delicious trio in my mouth.
He reaches with his spoon. “I thought we could share.”
I move the bowl. “Get your own, Hawk,” I say, my words muffled by the ice cream on my tongue.
“You’re joking, right?” he asks.
I give him a serious look while shoveling more ice cream in my mouth.
“I’m joking, babe.” I offer him some from my spoon. “Do you think I can eat all this after the burger and fries?” Okay I can, but he need not know.
I alternate between feeding him small portions and shoveling heaping spoonfuls in my mouth.
We finish the ice cream and leave the mall to pick up the girls. Bryan hides the packages in the floor storage compartments in his Suburban. On the way, I question him about my missing Vin dummy. I went to the gym off the garage yesterday evening to work out, and it wasn’t there. He claims he doesn’t know where it is.
My boxing gloves and shoes are also missing. I found walking tennis shoes and a book about safe exercises for pregnant women in my workout bag. My boxing gym membership has been temporarily revoked until October.
I leave Bryan in the truck on the phone while I stand with Max in front of the school.
Now that I’m craving red meat, we make plans to go to the Steak House for lunch soon. I let him think my change in diet is due to the amount of sex I’m having on a regular basis.
“Are you ready for the invasion of the Horny Toad Trophy Wife tomorrow?” he asks.
“Don’t you mean wives?”
“Girl, where have you been?” Max slaps my arm. “The Croaking Trio is down to a Solo. Mrs. Holly Valentine will be Ms. H
olly Valentine in two more months. She’s been cut off financially except for Melissa’s school tuition. Ms. Valentine has to get a”—he does a dramatic pause—“job and is exiled from the lily pad.” He covers his mouth in mock surprise. “Mr. Stephanie Banks dipped his oil stick in Mrs. Madelyn Brooks’s Cat-hoe-lac. The two were in the backseat of his brand new two thousand fourteen Sex’us SUV parked in the office building’s parking garage. Guess Mr. Banks don’t have a lock and key on his dipstick like his wife thinks.” He snaps his fingers. “There’s evidence of the alleged affair on the top four popular social media sites.” He pulls out his phone showing me the video and photos.
“Who took these?” I gasp.
“The husband of a part-time professional photographer.”
My eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets. “You didn’t, Maxie.”
“Oh my dear, Danikins. Maxie’s serving Halle Berry award-winning realness with those stills of Mrs. Brooks and Mr. Banks with their dirties on display in the parking garage of the same office building my husband works in. I spotted that dye job red mop bobbing up and down.”
The bell rings and I hand Max his phone. Students pour out of the gate, running to their parents or nannies.
“Mom, why are you picking us up today?” Kourtney asks.
“Surprise.” I hug them. “See you tomorrow, Max.” I air kiss his cheeks.
Ms. Williamson is standing at the entrance, her top lip curled, nose scrunched. She’s throwing an eye dagger and it’s aimed right at me.
I guide my girls to the parking lot.
“Mommy, why don’t you want a birthday party this year?”
I wait for them to climb into the back of the Suburban and buckle their seat belts to respond. “It’s not fair to ask our friends to come to two separate parties a few days apart. Besides, my birthday is on the fourteenth. No one wants to come to a birthday party on Valentine’s Day.”
I close the door and get in the front seat.
Bryan pulls out of the parking space joining the traffic jam to get out of the lot.
“We can cancel my party so you can have one,” Kourtney offers.
“Or you guys can have a party together,” Emma suggests.
“Thank you, sweetie, but I wouldn’t dare let you give up your party for me, or ask you to share the spotlight.”
