by L. M. Reed
~ * * ~
“Hey sleepyhead,” James murmured in my ear “if you don’t wake up soon we won’t make it to church.”
“James,” as usual I couldn’t prevent myself from becoming a human missile.
“Ow!” he exclaimed involuntarily.
“Are you hurt?” I asked apprehensively moving back slowly looking for signs of new injury.
“Just bruised and battered,” he grinned, “You know, the usual.”
“I think football players should have their heads examined,” I shook my finger at him. “You are all crazy.”
“Come back here where you belong,” he held his arms out invitingly “but gently this time. The other team had it in for me last night and my front line took a beating.”
“Did you win?” I asked snuggling carefully into his side.
“Afraid not,” he said ruefully. “We lost by a field goal in the last few seconds.”
“Field goal…?” I asked mystified.
“Their kicker kicked the ball between the goal posts and they got three points,” he explained briefly.
“Oh right, like your team did a couple of weekends ago,” I said, pleased I remembered.
“And you felt sorry for the other team,” he reminded me, “because they lost in the last few seconds of the game ‘just because someone could kick a ball between two little pole thingies’ I believe was the way you put it.”
“You laughed at me when I said that,” I pointed out. “What goes around…?”
“…comes around,” he finished for me. “I know, I know…I’m sure I deserved last night for not feeling sufficiently sorry for the team we beat that way,” he laughed. “So did you and Mom have a good time yesterday?”
“We always have a good time,” I replied offhandedly, trying to find a way to broach the subject of our forthcoming offspring. “We talked about you,” my fingers found an old bruise around his ribcage and traced the outline absently.
“Fascinating subject I’m sure,” he said ironically, capturing my hand and bringing it up to his lips. “Hmm…do you think we have time?” he looked questioningly at me.
As much as I wanted to say yes, I knew what I had to do. Shaking my head I pushed myself away from him and sat up, determined to tell him about the baby…big mistake. Springing from the bed, I barely made it to the bathroom in time. James was right behind me, concern creasing his forehead.
After I was done, I sat back on my heels and held my hand up to forestall the questions I knew were coming. Once I was sure the heaving was gone, I allowed James to help me to my feet. Turning toward the sink, I indicated with my hand that he should go back into the bedroom. He left me reluctantly.
I returned to the bedroom feeling almost back to normal after brushing my teeth, as ready as I would ever be to face James with the truth. By getting up well before him in the mornings, I had been able to hide my nausea from him, but it was time to own up.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I patted the space beside me, asking James to join me.
“Are you alright?”
I felt guilty hearing the anxiety in his voice.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, my mind racing through the whole gamut of possible approaches; everything from casually mentioning, “you know the other night when you thought you were dreaming…” to saying jokingly “nothing seven more months won’t cure” but nothing seemed appropriate.
“I’m pregnant,” I stated baldly, looking him directly in the eye.
Good, Allison, put him into shock, I silently chided myself for my lack of finesse.
There was no comprehension anywhere on his face. Gradually his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He blinked a couple of times as if trying to clear his vision. Even though his mouth began moving spasmodically, no sound issued from between his lips.
“Are you alright?” I repeated his earlier question a bit alarmed at his reaction.
“Pregnant?” he finally managed to get out. “How…?”
I stifled a laugh afraid it was more hysteria than amusement.
“I didn’t think I would have to explain the birds and the bees to you,” I couldn’t resist replying.
“You know what I mean,” he was recovering fast. “We were…being safe.”
Taking a deep breath, I quickly amended, “Except for one time.”
Eyebrows knitted in concentration, James searched his memory, at a loss.
“You won’t remember,” I whispered.
“Was I unconscious or something?” James asked in a weak attempt at humor.
“You were…asleep,” I admitted guiltily then added in a rush. “In my defense, I didn’t know you were asleep until afterwards. I didn’t stop to think, I was just so glad you were home.”
“Ah…” I saw recognition on his face “The night of the vivid dream.”
“I had no idea you could…you know…when you were still…I mean…I know people sleep walk and sleep talk but sleep…that…”
I realized I was having coherency problems, but all of my thoughts jumbled together.
To my great relief, James laughed.
“You aren’t…angry with me,” I asked tentatively.
“We’re having a baby,” he said, grinning. “I’m going to be a father.”
“We’re having a baby,” I repeated, smiling in relief. “You’re going to be a father.”
