Never Enough (The Enough Series Book 2)

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Never Enough (The Enough Series Book 2) Page 10

by Taryn Steele


  WE’RE GOING TO HAVE a baby! Holy shit!

  Lily and Bevan come running in to the bathroom with looks of frantic on their faces.

  “What’s happening? Are you okay?” Lily asks in panic.

  “They’re all positive! I’m pregnant,” I tell her.

  “Holy fucking shit Hillary!” She shouts jumping up and down towards me to give me a hug.

  Bevan the usual stoned faced character even cracks a smile and laughs at our girlish antics. Now pushing past us to give Jameson the manliest of hugs.

  After about twenty minutes of freak out baby talk Bevan and Lily say their good-byes to give us time alone and thank us for letting them be here to share in this exciting moment. I think they would make wonderful God parents, but let’s take this one step at a time.

  Jameson and myself find ourselves back in the bathroom, doing the normal bedtime routine, pee, brush teeth, hair, etc. I think everything is starting to settle in now. We aren’t speaking to each other but I know if he looks at me he can see the wheels turning in my head and vice versa. He’s pacing around the bathroom brushing his teeth when normally he would stand in front of the sink the entire time.

  I can’t read the look on his face. Is he upset? Is he scared? Is he happy? I can’t tell. Now that we are alone we can really talk about this, but I want to wait until we’re upstairs in bed. If he’s overwhelmed with emotions I want him to know he’s not alone. I am too.

  Before Jameson can turn the television on like he always does before bed I grab the remote from him.

  “I want to talk,” I tell him.

  “Okay.”

  “I want you tell me how you feel about this. We didn’t really get a chance to do that with Bevan and Lily here. Are you happy, sad, mad, scared, excited, all of the above?”

  He sits up straighter in the bed, letting out an exasperated breath while running his hands through his hair. This makes me nervous. Now I find myself adjusting my own posture in bed, straighter, almost ready to be in defense mode or to run out of the room for no known reason.

  “Yes. I’m everything, except for mad. I have no reason at all to be mad, but I’m definitely happy, excited and absolutely scared. I don’t know any first time parent who wasn’t scared in the beginning. The only thing I might be sad about is knowing I’ll be losing sleep but I’ll get that back,” he admits with big smile and pulling me closer to him.

  I feel complete and utter relief. I can breathe again.

  “I feel the exact same way babe. We’re in this together.”

  I curl up closer to him, and we both lay like that holding on to each other until sleep finds us.

  WHILE DRINKING OUR morning coffee and watching the local news I mention to Jameson I want to tell his dad Rick the news first. He lives so far away now, we miss him terribly. I know without a doubt he will be the most excited to hear about becoming a grandparent. I’m happy when he agrees but then brings me down when he says to wait a little while for the old man to wake up since he is an hour behind us in time. Damn him.

  We enjoy our lazy morning with basic chit chat of what errands we need to do, and calling my OB/GYN to make an appointment to officially confirm the pregnancy. Of course Jameson mentions how he can’t wait to see how big my boobs get so he can play with them. Typical male comment but God I love him.

  I’m not sure how my next comment is going to go with him though. I want to wait on telling our mom’s. They are such unpredictable creatures it could honestly go either way and it down right frightens me. I might as well just come out and say it before he spills the beans.

  “Babe. Can I ask you for a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can we keep this baby thing a secret from the mom’s for a bit? At least until we get a confirmation from the doctor? I’m just not sure of their reaction and I can only speak for my mom’s big mouth. She’s gonna tell everyone.”

  “Ha, yeah. Your mom will definitely do that. My mom has no friends so she won’t tell anyone but yeah, we can keep it quiet from them until after the doctor. What about your dad though? I know you want to tell him but what if he gets drunk and slips?”

  Shit. He’s not wrong. There’s at least a seventy-five percent chance of that happening.

  “I’ll have to think about that one for a bit,” I admit.

  I’m driving around the parking lot of the shopping plaza trying to find one simple parking space. It seems like everyone and there mother are out today. While I silently swear at everyone who takes their sweet ass time backing in to a spot or walking across the parking lot Jameson is on the phone with his dad who has not stopped shouting with excitement. I still have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. The south has already affected his accent in the short time he’s been there.

  He’s not even on speaker phone anymore and I can still hear him shouting with joy. It probably helps that he has a new lady friend. Yeah, he mentioned that since he said it was a great day to share good news. His sister in law Judy introduced him to a spunky nurse they met while his brother was getting treated. Apparently they’ve taken a liking to each other. He sounds happy so I hope it lasts. I don’t think he can possibly do any worse than Marcie.

  Sssh. I did not say that out loud. Ha.

  It’s so hard to keep comments to myself about that woman. I’ve spent all of my life keeping my comments and thoughts to myself because that’s what I was told to do at home. When I told Jameson about that part of my upbringing he told me he never wanted me to keep things from him. I feel like when it comes to his mother some things I probably should just bite my tongue. It is so damn hard though. I could never get over the fact that my mother intentionally lied to me, telling me my father didn’t love me and kept me from him. She has that great single mother guilt shit over him, he still stays by her side when necessary. I just have to be the good wife, sit back and watch.

  FINALLY AFTER FOUR LONG weeks of waiting I finally get in to my OBGYN, Dr. Miron’s. I’ve either been making myself nauseas over this appointment or it’s the pregnancy. I won’t truly believe it one hundred percent until she confirms it.

  After the basic check in questions and peeing in a cup, Jameson and I find ourselves in the exam room with just one of us half naked. Me, of course.

  There’s a swift knock at the door and in breezes Dr. Miron with what is I’m assuming my chart in her hands. Her face, expressionless.

  “Hillary, so nice to see you.”

  “Hi Doc. This is my husband Jameson.”

  “Nice to meet you Jameson,” she says shaking his hand.

  He nods and smiles, clearly nervous about what is to come from this appointment.

  “Well, let me cut right to the chase here folks. According to your urine test Hillary, the pregnancy test result is positive, but before I confirm that I want to take a look inside. Can you scooch down the table and put your feet in the stir ups for me?”

  Jameson steps to the side of the exam table out of the way but still next to me. I turn my hand up for him to hold. I stare up at the ceiling and let out a loud breath.

  “What the hell is that?”

  I hear Jameson ask and I sit up. It looks like the world’s longest dildo, and she’s putting a condom on it. What the fuck is happening here?

  “This is called a transducer Mr. Michaels. I will be inserting it in to Hillary’s vagina, resting it on her cervix. If the urine test is accurate and she is in fact pregnant I will be able to confirm that with this instrument. It’s called a transvaginal ultrasound. She’d be too early for a regular ultrasound on top of her belly. By the expression on your face I’m assuming that’s what you thought we’d be doing today.”

  I can’t contain my laughter. We are clearly new at this because I had no idea that this was going to happen either.

  “Alright, Hillary try to relax while I gently insert this,” she tells me while she turns on the monitor next to her.

  I squeeze Jameson’s hand tightly while she moves the transducer around inside of m
e. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just odd.

  “Okay, Hillary and Jameson take a look at the screen here,” Dr. Miron announces.

  “See the little blob right there?” She asks pointing to the monitor.

  “The one that looks like a cockroach?” I ask.

  “Yes, that right there is your baby. Congratulations. Let me turn on the sound and you can hear the heartbeat.”

  Holy Shit!

  “Wow,” Jameson says as he kisses my cheek.

  I’m overcome with emotion. I didn’t expect to feel this way. I hate to admit it but part of me was expecting to be told there was never a pregnancy, or I had another miscarriage. I was afraid to get my hopes up. I feel so much lighter now. I can relax. I can breathe. I can smile.

  I AM SO GLAD THE FIRST trimester of this pregnancy is over. I know pregnancy is different for every woman but geez, it would have been nice to have been warned about how tired you get. I expected the nausea, and thankfully I wasn’t constantly puking. I haven’t decided yet if I’m glad my boobs still seem to be the same size. I know Jameson is looking forward to them growing.

  Typical man.

  I’ve been sleeping like crap. I’m trying to get used to sleeping on my back and left side only. Dr. Miron warned me about the dangers of sleeping on my right side for the baby as I get further along in the pregnancy.

  People are very eager to tell me all of their pregnancy horror stories. While I don’t mind having knowledge of what could happen to me I wish they would stop. Sometimes they freak me out.

  Uncontrollable rageCrying for no reasonSore boobsSpottingHeadaches with no relief because you’re not supposed to take medicine while pregnantPeeing every ten minutes, and maybe even when I sneezeFunky body odorsWaddling

  What the fuck? Am I going to turn in to a waddling zombie who pees her pants?

  It’s the day before Mother’s Day and I’ve decided to be the bigger person and invite Marcie over for lunch. Between you and me I planned it that way so that we can kick her out if she tries to over stays her welcome because we have to go to my parents for dinner for my mother for her Mother’s Day part.

  I’ve decided to keep the food light and simple. I’m making chicken scallopine and broccoli rabe. I love to cook. I especially love trying new recipes which this is, so I hope it comes out tasty. If it doesn’t Marcie will never let me live it down. It’s complete bullshit because she can’t cook for shit. Jameson reminds me all of the time that the only flavor his mother added to their meals was butter and onions. It’s a fairly simple recipe. All I have to do is dredge some chicken in breadcrumbs and black pepper then cook it in a pan, and set it aside. After that I add white wine, chicken broth and butter back to the same pan with the broccoli. After I let it cook for a few minutes I add some parsley and capers then plate everything together. Piece of cake.

  As I stand in the kitchen taking some rolls out of the oven I hear a knock at the door simultaneously opening, and hear Marcie enter shouting, “Hello.” I thought the front door was locked. It always is. I feel safer that way, plus Jameson and I like to fool around all over the house when we’re in the moment. I bite my lip at the fact that she just let herself in the house. I’m a private person and I want my privacy respected but I know I won’t get that from Marcie. I walk around the corner out of the kitchen to greet her with my ultimate fake smile. She’s already charging at Jameson with arms wide open blatantly ignoring me. When she does finally turn around her smile leaves her face, her mouth drops and she laughs.

  “Damn girl you got fat quick in this pregnancy and you’re not even done yet.”

  She just walked in the door and I already want her out of my house.

  “Ma,” Jameson snaps at her.

  “What? All I meant was that in my day doctors were strict with us. We were allowed a fifteen to thirty pound weight gain. She looks like she’s almost there now. It was just an observation out of concern.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, turn on my heel and head back to the kitchen trying to fight back tears. I hear Jameson mumbling something under his breath and then immediately following, he is at my side. Coming up behind me as I stir the broccoli rabe he runs his hands up and down my arms.

  “I’m sorry about her. I hope you let it go in one ear and out the other,” he says quietly resting his chin on my shoulder.

  “As much as I didn’t want to do this I was being nice because she’s your mom. Look what good it did me. Her jacket wasn’t even off and she was already handing out the insults in my own home. At this point I just want to get this over with,” I admit shaking my head in disgust.

  Why? Why? Why?

  Why does this woman hate me so much? I always go back to the days when I first met Marcie. We connected so quickly. She was so easy to talk to. I expressed my lack of a relationship with my mother. She expressed how she always wanted a daughter and how I could always come to her to talk. When Jameson and I first started dating I was so relieved to know I would have a great relationship with his mom. It changed so quickly. Why can’t she accept me? Can’t she see the stress it causes her son? Doesn’t she care about him and his feelings? Is she doing this intentionally to drive a wedge between us?

  I do my best to bottle up my feelings like I often do, and plate the food for lunch. Before I walk out of the kitchen and in to the dining room I look up at the ceiling and say a silent prayer to God to get me through this lunch without slinging food across the table at my devilish mother in law.

  Think he heard me? That would be fucking epic if I grabbed a handful of broccoli rabe and smashed it in her face. Suddenly I hear DMX playing X Gon’ Give It To Ya in my head. I totally would.

  I laugh at my evil self, slap on my perfect fake ass smile and walk in to the dining room. Beautifully plated food in hand I place Jameson’s food in front of him first, just because I can. As I walk around Marcie’s chair to place her food in front of her then sit down myself I see her staring at her plate. No words. She sits there staring with a puzzled look on her face as if she’s not sure what she’s looking at. I look from Marcie to Jameson who has already started digging in. I dart my eyes from him to his mother silently asking him ‘what the fuck is her deal?’

  “This is delicious hun.” Jameson raves with a wink. I know he’s mentally preparing me for whatever it is Marcie is or isn’t about to say about the food I made.

  As I take my first bite I have to agree. It is good. Not that I ever doubted my cooking skills but with a new recipe you never really know.

  “Mmm, it did come out good. Thanks babe.” I reply with a wink back.

  I want to dramatically drop my fork on my plate and shout at the top of my lungs “What in the fuckity fuck is your problem?” to her but I know Jameson wants me to keep my mouth shut. I’m not sure why but it’s his mom. I’ll let him deal with her. If he has an issue with my mom later I’ll deal with her.

  We continue to ooh and ahh over our food while she pokes and prods at hers taking tiny bites. I try to hide my smile and laughter because I know she likes it but doesn’t want to. She’d hate to have to compliment me. That’s fine. All you’re doing is letting your food get cold and ruining what could be an enjoyable meal.

  Once we’re done eating and I’ve cleared the table I start working on the dishes while Jameson chats with Marcie in the dining room over coffee. I wish I had music on to distract me from hearing her complaints of what little time Jameson spends with her. I attempt to get a song in my head to sing along to when I hear Marcie ask if we plan on finding out the sex of the baby.

  “Our appointment is on Monday actually.” I hear him tell her.

  “Oh good! You must call me right away. It better be a boy.”

  What the fuck did she just say?

  “Ma, as long as the baby is healthy we don’t care what the sex is.”

  “Oh come on Jameson. You know you want a boy too. You’re allowed to admit that. There’s no shame in wanting. Are you just saying that because of Hillary?”

&nbs
p; “Ma, for the last time, I don’t care what the sex is. I just want a healthy baby, and Hillary feels the same way.”

  While drying off a baking dish, I smile inwardly. I admire how Jameson can keep his cool, yet still manage to put his mother in her place. I put the dish away and silently pray that dinner with my mother goes a little more smoothly.

  UNFORTUNATELY THAT SILENT PRAYER didn’t work. My mother has not stopped talking about how badly she wants me to have a daughter. The list of reasons she has mentioned has gone on and on.

  “Oh I hope she gives you so much trouble like you did for me. It will be the best karma.”

  “Well that’s so nice of you to say mother, but we won’t know until Monday.” I remind her.

  We’ve only been here for an hour and I’m ready to go. My mother has not stopped talking about praying for a girl for payback to me for being a horrible child but then adds about all of the cute outfits she can get. My father keeps yelling at her to shut up and who cares if it’s a girl or boy. Thanks Dad. She doesn’t listen to him, she keeps rambling.

  “Well mom, thanks for having us over for dinner, and buying the pizza but I’m whooped.”

  “You’re leaving already?” She asks with a puzzled look on her face.

  Yep. I’ve about had all I can handle today.

  “Sorry Theresa, it’s my fault. I have to cover for someone at work.”

  Jameson grabs my hand while walking towards my parents’ front door. I look up at him with nothing but love and admiration in my eyes. He just saved my ass from another reaming with his little white lie. I slip from his hand to give my dad a hug and a kiss good-bye. Turning around to leave, my mother charges at me with arms wide open. I hate this part. We’ve never been close. I don’t know why she feels the need to hug me. I know it sounds awful but I’m not comfortable with it. I can’t help it. It’s how I feel. I know it’s not wrong or right. Feelings aren’t wrong or right, they just are what they are. I don’t like it but I still hug her back. I’m not a complete asshole. I certainly don’t squeeze in the embrace. To be honest, I barely pat her back but I still did it.

 

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