by T Gephart
“What the hell kind of sample do they need from you?” I shrugged mentally trying to work out what the hell she was supposed to do with the jar.
Nope.
Nothing.
“Pee, you moron.” Her voice rose higher as her tightly wrapped fists dropped to her side. “They need me to pee in that jar.”
She sounded mad, she was probably mad.
“Ooooohhhhh.” My head nodded as the last piece of the puzzle finally clicked. Yeah, I’d read about that. Screening for shit in a pregnant chick’s pee. Completely mind dumped on that info.
“Well, I guess then there’s no need for round two then.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the jar. The size made a lot of sense now that I knew its purpose. “Here you go. Ready for action, babe.” My hand tilted offering it to her.
“Ewwww. You didn’t wash your hands. I’m not touching that.” She screwed up her face like I’d asked her to lick the bathroom floor, her body repelling in disgust.
“Babe, you’ve sucked my dick.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “And you are currently carrying my kid, so I think it’s a little late to be worried about my cooties.”
“It’s not the same thing and you know it.” Her hands planted on her hips, a smile trying not to spread on her lips. She might have been pissed I’d pointed out the obvious but she wasn’t denying it either. The memory made me grin.
“I’ll ask for another one. One that hasn’t been tainted.” Her eyes narrowed as they moved from me to the jar still chilling in my hand.
“Fine, babe. Whatever makes you happy.” I shrugged not understanding what the big deal was, but I wasn’t about to argue.
“What would make me happy is to go home.” She blew out a breath of defeat. “Instead I’m here and about to have someone I don’t know poking me and possibly taking a look at my vagina. Excuse me if I’m not in the best of moods.”
So it hadn’t been me that had pissed her off, the situation being responsible for the shitty mood. The revelation relieved me slightly as I gave her my best grin.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, your pussy is pretty damn spectacular, so the doctor is in for one hell of a treat.”
This wasn’t some instance where I told a girl her ass didn’t-look-big-in-those-jeans trying to make her feel better. Not that I’d ever had a problem with a big ass, which is why I had no problem with the lie. But in this case, I was telling the absolutely truth. Her pussy was fucking spectacular and I personally hadn’t seen enough of it.
“Can you please dial down the freaking crazy and just come sit down?” Her lips twitched into a slight grin, hinting that she’d lost some of the edge.
“I’m crazy?” My smile got wider. “You’re the one in the men’s room, Kenz.” My hand motioned to the very obvious urinal signposting exactly where this conversation was happening.
“Well, lucky I got here when I did or you would have defiled the jar.” She bit back her grin.
“Why don’t you head back into the waiting room and I’ll make sure I take care of the defiled jar and wash my hands.” My feet unconsciously moved closer, inching their way to where she was standing.
“Wow, such a gentleman.” The sarcasm defused by the way she was grinning at me.
“It’s kind of what I’ve been trying to tell you.” I barked out a laugh.
“This kid is so screwed.” She rolled her eyes, not convinced by my declaration.
“Nah, our kid is going to be brilliant.”
It was the first time we’d spoken about the baby without one of us having a panic attack. And while the location wasn’t great, I was glad we’d both broken down that wall. Our kid was going to be brilliant because it had us as parents.
“I’m going to go.” Her voice turned serious and I’d guessed her mind had gone to the same place mine had.
“Yeah, I’ll see you out there.” My head nodded as I watched her walk out of the men’s room, her hips catching my attention as she left. God she was beautiful and if we had a daughter and she was half as good looking as her mother, I was going to be in for a world of fucking trouble.
The small plastic container that had caused so much drama was tossed in the trash, the faucets my next stop, letting the water run over my hands.
By the time I’d made my way back into the waiting room, some of the crowd had thinned out. Kenz joined me a few moments later, her sample handed to a nurse on her way to the chairs.
“All good?” My brow rose, unable to hide my smirk. I’m almost positive I’d had more fun in that bathroom than she had.
She didn’t respond, just shaking her head and mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out under her breath. It possibly contained the word crazy in there somewhere.
It seemed that having an appointment didn’t count for much in this place. Our scheduled time came and went with the wait making each minute feel longer than it I needed to be. They should have a coffee place or something in here. Seriously, if we were going to have to lose hours, the least they can do is provide me with an over priced latte and some free Wi-Fi.
“Kenzie Clark.” The sound of her name broke the monotonous hum of The Bold and the Beautiful that I’d been forced to watch. And not a moment too soon, I was getting a headache trying to work out who was sleeping with who. And I thought we got a lot of action.
“That’s me.” Kenzie rose to her feet, giving the nurse chick holding a file a smile.
“You can come back now.” Nurse chick signaled with a wave.
“You ready?” Instinct took over as I grabbed her hand.
I didn’t ask if she wanted me to go in with her. Probably because there was a better than average chance she probably would have said no. And for whatever reason, it felt like I should go. After all, that’s why I was here wasn’t it? I wasn’t about to punk out. Not when my kid and Kenzie were counting on me.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
“Okay, Kenzie you can put your legs down now. Feel free to put your underwear back on.” Are not the words you want to hear from anyone you’ve just met. Even less when there is a guy whose only connection to you is hot drive-by sex sitting by your side.
Joey might have thought I’d missed the utter delight on his face when Dr. Brown asked me to get up on the examination table and drop my panties, but I wasn’t blind. The muted groan was also hard to miss.
Thankfully some rather strategically placed sheets meant his peep show was short lived, with the good bits taking part under the covers. The internal exam also hadn’t lived up to his fantasy. The wand-of-death—or as Dr. Brown called it, the internal ultrasound—had made him sit up a little straighter, but only until the grainy picture appeared on the screen. Then by some miracle he lost interest in the over-sized dildo contraption and fixated on the screen in front of us.
And there he or she was. No more than a blip, surrounded by a bunch of what looked to be white noise. So small it took me a few seconds to make it out, and marvel how something that tiny was making me feel so sick and tired.
“Well your blood results look good.” Dr. Brown tapped notes into her computer as I moved back to the chair beside Joey, the lower half of my body no longer naked. Panties and jeans back where they should be. “And based on the dates you’ve given me and the size of the gestational sack, you are approximately six weeks pregnant.”
Both Joey and I nodded wordlessly. Dr. Brown gathered a stack of information pamphlets and handed them to us with a list of appointments I was going to need to keep. The one on top with the words “Breast is best” getting Joey’s attention. Great, he distracted easily enough when we weren’t dealing with boobs, pulling him back from that would be tough. His eyes immediately dipped down to my barely-exposed cleavage before giving me a grin. See? The man was predicable.
The issue of establishing paternity would have to wait a couple of weeks; the doc explaining it was usually performed around the eight-week mark. Not that Joey seemed to mind, although he did ask about the process. No doubt inter
ested to see exactly how they were going to collect his DNA. I stopped short of suggesting they swab the men’s bathroom, the thought of what he did in there halfway between hilarious and mortifying. This was the father of my child, ladies and gentleman. Yep. I mentally flipped off my subconscious for stating the obvious.
“So, November twenty-seventh.” Joey recited my due date as we walked back to his truck. “Poor kid is going to have a birthday and then Christmas straight after.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Less than a month between the two occasions to be exact. Though I wasn’t really sure how that timing was relevant. Honestly, didn’t we have bigger things to worry about?
“And then like nothing for another eleven months. That sort of sucks,” he continued; the conversation still stuck on the date. His brow scrunched in confusion as he held open the passenger side door.
“Sucks?” I dared to open the can of worms that was Joey’s thought process.
“Because all the presents come at once and then you have to wait forever.” He threw up his hands like it should have been obvious. “And there will be none of that combining presents shit. Trust me, as a person born in January I’m here to tell you, that’s just lazy.”
At first I thought he was joking, his way of adjusting that come November the small and grainy blimp was going to be a real, tangible baby. But judging from the look on his face, he was deadly serious. Wow. I didn’t know whether to laugh or shudder in disbelief. Presents were what he was thinking about?
“That is the biggest worry on your mind right now?” I asked as I hopped into the truck. “That our baby might get combined presents?”
“Well, you’re healthy and the baby is healthy.” He closed the door and moved around to the driver’s side before continuing his argument. “I need to focus on important stuff. See, you wouldn’t know. Your birthday is in June so you get a six-month rotation. I’m here to tell you it blows.” He slid into his seat and shut the door.
“Joey, my birthday is in September. Not June.” I wasn’t even going to speculate as to why he assumed I was born in June. Considering he’d been at my birthday party last year and the year before that, I would have thought at least the month would have stuck. The edible panties he’d gifted me from my most recent celebration were still sitting in my dresser drawer untouched.
“Oh. Well. Same difference.” He’d shrugged like it was no big deal. The few months in between would beg to differ, I’m sure. So would I.
“I’m not even going to try and work out how that is the same, but whatever.” There just wasn’t enough time in the day to work on Joey logic, besides I had bigger issues to worry about. But if that would keep him awake at night, then I had no problem agreeing to his no-doubling-up clause. “There will be no combined presents okay, not from me at least.”
“Good.” He seemed appeased by my commitment, turning on the ignition as he clipped in his seatbelt.
Unlike Joey, my mind was not preoccupied with the close proximity of our child’s birthday with Christmas. There were a million more pressing issues that were swirling around in my head.
The first thing that gained my attention was the astronomical amount of money one doctor’s visit had cost. Joey had pulled out his wallet and covered it before I’d gotten a chance to swipe my Visa, but there was no way I was expecting him to foot the entire bill. Nope. No way. There might be other girls who would be happy with that arrangement but I certainly wasn’t one of them, paying my own way since college. I’d have to find a way to at least pay half. It’s not like I had medical insurance, something my parents had badgered me about since I left college and was no longer covered under their policy.
Now, I wished I had listened. Coulda, woulda, shoulda—too late.
Much like the condom I didn’t use.
I swear I’m not stupid.
The hospital costs also made my heart skip a beat. What I first thought was a typo with a few too many zeros was quickly confirmed as the actual figure. Yep, that’s how much it costs to bring a human into the world. More than what I’d spent on my first car. Then there were diapers, bottles, clothes, stroller . . . the list extended for miles, all while the money kept adding up.
So as you can imagine, the last thing on my mind was whether or not when junior blows out his or her candles, the present they open that might count for Christmas as well. As this rate, no one was getting presents.
“What are you thinking about?” Joey speared me with a sideways glance, my silence longer than I’d thought.
“Just stuff,” I answered, not willing to share my load. It’s not like I wanted to admit that I was mentally calculating how long I could live off my savings. Assuming I could play until I went into labor, I could probably get by for six months? Maybe longer if I really, really saved.
“What kind of stuff?” He probed further, his eyes on the road as we got closer to my apartment.
“Just about how long I can probably gig until I have to stop.” I gave him the amended truth. “Angie played the night before she had her baby; I can probably go right to the end too.”
Which was my only plan. Because other than the money I earned through playing, what else was I going to do? There was no way I was taking up knitting. And I didn’t do sitting around and waiting well, so to keep playing sounded like the best idea.
“Hmm. Yeah. I gu-ess.” The broken words tumbled out of his mouth awkwardly. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
“What now?”
Joey was a bad liar. Extremely bad. The kind of bad that you almost feel sorry for, except then you realize that he’s a successful drummer making bucket loads of cash doing what he loves. Then the fact he can’t bend the truth convincingly doesn’t really seem to be so bad. It was just nature’s way of evening the score.
“I’m going on tour in a couple of months. Which means I won’t be around. And I figured maybe you might come visit me on the road.” He stopped and took a breath between each new idea, almost like starting a new conversation after each new point.
“Well, I didn’t think you were going to be hanging around for the next eight months or so.” I settled back into my seat. I had assumed he would leave soon, even if the idea didn’t thrill me. “But I’m not going to be able to come visit you on tour. I’ve got my own band who is going to need me.” Sure, that’s what it was about. The fact the band couldn’t live without me, not the fact that I needed every last cent I could make or that I felt I didn’t have much purpose outside of that. God damn these fucking hormones. Now I was feeling fucking insecure. Great. Just great.
And not to mention that the last thing I wanted to do when I’m the size of a Sea World performing whale and barely able to walk was hop onto a tour bus. Sure, that sounded like fun, being close to giving birth and watching the father of my child make out with groupies. Not that he wasn’t entitled to sleep with and kiss whomever he wanted to, but I didn’t want to have to see it.
“I guess we’ll work it out later.” Joey shifted uncomfortably in his seat, obviously not thrilled I hadn’t jumped at the chance to follow him around the country.
I’m sure turndowns were new to him, the oh-yes-whatever-you-want more to his liking.
“Yeah, absolutely. We’ll work it out later.” My head nodded even though my brain wasn’t so sure. “Look, we should probably talk.”
God, I hated conversations that started like that and yet here I was, my mouth saying words that made me cringe. Why the hell did I have to be the responsible one? Though between two of us, there wasn’t much of a choice.
“Sure.” Joey’s eyes glanced over at me, guiding the truck to a stop in front of my apartment. His hands twitched at the ignition a beat before he made the decision and shut it off. “You want to go inside?” His head tilted to my front door.
Yeah, right.
That was not happening.
“I think we should talk out here.” My body turned to face him.
Every single reason why I had been att
racted to him in the first place still made sense—his dark brown mussed up hair, his sexy bedroom eyes, the smile you knew meant trouble. While all those things still made my girlie parts tingle, I was smart enough to know we shouldn’t go down that road now. And let’s face it, there was nothing to say I wouldn’t potentially have another moment of weakness, and wouldn’t that just be freaking awesome.
Nothing like complicating an already complicated situation.
So couldn’t go there.
“Joey, I don’t want it to be weird between us.” Which is exactly what would happen if I let him come inside. “We’re in this for the long haul, right?” Not sure whom exactly I was reassuring, I mentally stopped myself from grabbing his face and telepathically trying to extract the answer.
“Kenz, I’m a lot of things, but my word is my word. I said I’m going to be there.” His hand brushed up against mine and I had to remind myself the touch didn’t mean what I thought it meant.
Which was . . .
Yeah, so I had no idea what the touch actually meant but I was sure it wasn’t romantic. Which is just as well, because we weren’t doing that. Even if I wasn’t pregnant, it had never been that way with us, so he wasn’t about to start now. Right?
Why was my head so scrambled? I was beginning to think I was going to need a refund on my college degree, the piece of paper hanging on my wall not living up to its side of the bargain.
“Good, maybe we should give it a few days. Just so we can process this all. And I’ll give you a call next week or something.”
It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to him—sure, maybe not five million times a day like the past weekend—but I thought the break would be good for us. Give us some time to adjust to it all. Get my head around the truckload of feelings that had been FedEx’d to my door.
“You want me to not call you?” Joey tilted his head genuinely surprised like he’d never had a girl ask that of him. Granted, the girls he knew usually demanded it so my request was probably a foreign concept.
Actually, on paper it sounded ridiculous. Hey, you knocked me up but keep your distance for a while. Yep, we’re just going to have this kid but don’t even think about sending me a text.