Roomie Wars Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Kat T. Masen

  “Happy baby shower!” Mia shouts, hugging me at the same time. “Do you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it!” I choke on my words, holding back my emotions. “You did all this for me?”

  Mia smiles while shaking her head left to right. “I had plenty of help.”

  I let out a huge grin before turning to Drew. “Did you know about this?”

  “Of course, he did.” Mia laughs loudly. “The poor guy was getting sick of me nagging him about all the tiny details.”

  “And all this time I thought you were having an affair.”

  Drew wraps his arms around me placing his lips against my ear. “You’re cute when you’re jealous but also the biggest pain in my ass.”

  “All right, love fest is over. Time for you to leave. Ladies only,” Mia demands.

  Drew kisses me goodbye before finding Dad and closing the front door behind them. Poor Drew. Thank God he and Dad get along so well, probably better than my brothers. He’s the son he never had—listens to all his crap and repetitive stories.

  “Let’s get something to eat before we start the games,” Mia suggests.

  Mia and Mom have gone all out. Mini pizzas, mini tacos, a chocolate fountain, finger sandwiches, and other mini everything. I fill up my plate, starving and desperate to try as much as I can.

  On my fourth serving, my Aunt Hilda corners me. “Now, Zoey, have you put together a birthing plan? Your cousin, Martha, had hers written down. She opted for no drugs and wanted to bring the baby into the world peacefully.”

  “Um... I’m kinda gonna wing it,” I answer with a mouthful of food.

  “Wing it?” Aunt Hilda questions with a baleful laugh. “Oh, honey, you’ve got to be prepared and stick to your guns. Don’t let the midwives convince you otherwise.”

  Right, birthing plan. I should get right on that and research or something. God… I wish I had more tacos on my plate.

  “Now, breast is best. Don’t let them tell you otherwise. You don’t want the nasty formula on the supermarket shelves these days. Lord knows what it does to the baby.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Note—breast is best.

  Inside, I laugh to myself. Drew would find that hilarious.

  “And you’ll want to get a good pediatrician. Martha was lucky enough to get the most sought-out one in all of the West Coast. Of course, Martha and Michael are well-known in the medical industry, so they know the right people.”

  “Hilda!” Mom yells, stomping toward us. “Leave the poor girl alone.”

  Mom is carrying a plate of food and hands it to me while scolding Hilda. “Drew is a doctor. He’ll take good care of Zoey and knows what’s best.”

  “Well, actually he’s a surgeon now, he specializes in cardiology,” I add.

  “Smart boy, that one,” Mom boasts.

  Hilda, annoyed at Mom’s comment, purses her lips. The rivalry between Mom and Hilda has been going on since my fifth birthday when my cousin, Martha, got jealous of my cake shaped like a Care Bear that Mom had made. Martha threw a tantrum, knocking the cake over. Hilda was adamant she tripped, but Martha was always a troublemaker. Now she’s shacked up with some dentist who tries to hit on his patients, has three kids and some big house, plus a drinking problem. All of that information is according to my mom.

  Hilda rambles to herself before leaving our circle and annoying her other sister, Ruth.

  “Game time!”

  I welcome the distraction and chance to sit down. My legs, heavy and swollen, begin to ache. My lower back is no better always aching in this one particular spot. Drew said that the babies might be in an odd position, but there’s still time for them to move.

  Some old friends sit beside me, and we get to chatting about life, work, and babies until Mia takes charge of the room announcing the rules of the upcoming game.

  The first game is trying to sniff some shit in a nappy and guess what candy bar it is. Given my love for all things chocolate this should be an easy one.

  There are plenty of cringing faces, laughter, and incorrect guesses. A friend of mine from college, Sandra, guesses it right off the bat. She won a little prize which Mia gives out—a box of chocolates!

  The second game is drinking water out of a baby bottle. The first one to finish wins. Mom is up with Hilda and my Aunt Ruth. Mom smashes the lead, and when she finishes, I believe her exact words are “Practice makes perfect” in which Ruth comments, “Lucky Bob.”

  I shudder. I don’t want to know what goes on in my parents’ sex life. They shouldn’t even have a sex life. God… why, oh why, does the universe have to torture me.

  When the games are over, Mom slices the cake while I take photos with everyone. It’s nice to spend the day surrounded by women, each offering their advice having had babies themselves. As we close in on the day, Mia requests I sit in the big chair and places the presents in front of me—mountains of gifts, plus that carriage which sits in the corner.

  I open the first gift, pulling out something. “What’s this again?”

  “It’s a diaper genie,” Aunt Ruth explains.

  “So, it gets rid of the diapers? Thank God because that will be a nightmare.”

  “No, sweetie, you put the diapers inside, but you still need to empty it out.”

  “Oh.”

  The word genie negates the actual having to do it yourself. I move onto the next lot of presents. So many onesies, tiny and adorable. We ooh and ahh over every piece, and something stirs inside of me—the feeling of excitement. Soon my babies will be dressed in these onesies, and I’ll be holding them in my arms.

  The carriage was a gift from Mom and Dad. According to Dad, the safety ratings are on par to his Mustang.

  Finally, I open Mia’s present.

  Inside is a small box. I open the box to find matching Adidas Superstar sneakers in white with black stripes down the side.

  Holding them up so everyone can see, I happily relay my gratitude. “I love them so much! These are perfect. Drew and I each have a pair of these.”

  “I know.” She giggles. “That’s how I got the idea. You can be all matchy, matchy.”

  Leaning over, I give Mia a big hug and whisper, “You didn’t have to do this, I know it’s been hard for you.”

  “The only thing hard for me is the regret of acting like a bitch toward you. That night was uncalled for,” she apologizes, again.

  “You’ve already said sorry. You were in a bad place. I get it. How are things now?”

  Mia grabs a piece of ribbon, twisting it into a bow to distract herself. “Better, not better. I don’t know. Troy’s with Sophia today. He took her to his parents’ house, and she’ll stay over. I think tonight we’ll have a long talk… but hey, today is about you.”

  Ending our conversation with a forced smile, I hug her again praying they’ll sort things out. It was Mia and Troy’s wedding which ignited Drew’s and my flame. I’ll never forget that. I just wish they can both remember the reason why they chose to be together and move on. Having the baby should have brought them closer together, not tear them apart. I’m not quite sure that trying for another baby will fix it either—a Band-Aid solution to a deeper wound. For once in my life, I choose to keep my opinion to myself. And when I say to myself, I mean only to Drew. Poor guy is always forced to listen to my crap.

  Attempting to stand up, Mom orders me to sit down and rest my feet. I want to thank everyone but need to do that while sitting down. “Thank you, everyone, for your generosity,” I begin, nervously rubbing my stomach. “To say I’m overwhelmed is an understatement, but your willingness to shower me today means everything. Our babies are so blessed.”

  Mom removes a tissue from her pocket wiping a loose tear from her eye which onsets my own. Aunt Ruth begins and then Mia. By the end, we all laugh at our emotional outburst.

  I look around the room one more time surrounded by family and friends, grateful that no matter how shit of a mother I may turn out to be, my babies are surrounded by good pe
ople.

  These babies are already so loved that I can’t imagine how much more love we can feel when we’re finally holding them in our arms.

  Chapter Six

  Drew

  Our break room table is always scattered with mindless magazines and trashy tabloids which the nurses gossip about. They have this god-awful obsession with the royal family. Personally, I don’t understand it.

  A Tupperware catalog or some pyramid scheme product are laying around with a ‘Please Look at Me’ sticker on the front, snuck in by one of the nurses or cleaning staff. Opting for my textbooks, I’m not one to waste my precious resting moments with trivial garbage. Zoey calls me a nerd, but if nerd means I can save people lives, I’ll gladly take that titled cape.

  It catches my eye today, a brochure sticking out of the corner of a People magazine advertising a small resort an hour away. This is exactly what Zoey needs—a babymoon. Just the two of us. Okay, call me selfish, but this is exactly what I need before I sacrifice my wife to motherhood, and our lives will be nothing but dirty diapers and sleepless nights.

  The photos paint a picture of an idyllic getaway—palm trees lining the property, perfect sunset, and a large resort-style swimming pool. They offer couples’ massages, full buffet breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus nightly entertainment outside in the gardens.

  “There were no such things as babymoons in our day,” Dorothy utters while slicing the carrot cake she brought from home. “You carried the baby, you gave birth, then repeat.”

  Margaret, another nurse, nods in agreement. “We didn’t even have daycare centers. If you needed to work, you had to find help in the neighborhood or go on welfare.”

  “And none of these iPads to keep the kids busy,” Dorothy adds.

  These ladies often test my patience. While their hearts are in the right place, they tend to complain about everything. If I had a dollar for every time they start a sentence with, “Back in my day…” I’d be a rich man.

  Chief Arnold walks into the room greeting the ladies before requesting I join him in his office. Dorothy and Margaret are silently eating their cake, hiding their curious stares behind their over-sized mugs. I’m not sure what this is about but know I’ll get the third degree the moment I come back.

  Following him down the corridor, up one level and down another corridor, he closes the door behind us and asks me to take a seat. Chief Arnold is a minimalist—his large oak desk is clear of paperwork which is stacked neatly in folders behind him. The only thing on his desk is his computer and a photo of his wife and three daughters.

  “Doctor Baldwin, tell me, how are things?”

  I have no idea why he called me in because when he has done so in the past, it wasn’t for a friendly chat. There’s usually something behind it.

  “Busy. My wife is expecting our twins soon.”

  “I heard,” he responds with a comforting smile, easing my worries, slightly. “Now, the reason why I called you here is that I have a friend, a close family friend who I’ve known for years, contact me regarding an opening at a hospital.”

  This isn’t the first time I have been approached, and while moving isn’t in the cards for us right now, I’m always open to hearing new opportunities.

  “The government has a new project with approved funds to help build the new cardiac wing. It will be a fantastic opportunity for you, and a step up from your position here. You would step into the position as head of CCU.”

  Taking a deep breath, my mind begins to wander to the possibility of taking on such a high position. Head of CCU is what I’ve been working toward, but this isn’t the time to be taking on more responsibility. Zoey needs me. The babies need me.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Chief Arnold asserts, adjusting his round frames while trying to focus. “You’re about to bring two babies into the world. How could you possibly take this on?”

  “Yes,” I admit, trying to compose my thoughts.

  “The hospital is prepared to take care of your family… rent for twelve months and travel expenses to cover all of you. The hospital is located in a rural part of the country, so your hours will actually be less than you work now.”

  I can’t believe the offer. It sounds too good to be true. Just my luck, though. I can’t shake the timing thing from my mind.

  Without sounding cocky, I want to know why they are offering me such a generous package.

  “Why me? There’re other surgeons here, too.”

  “You’re exactly what they need… intelligent, hardworking, and compassionate. You’ll be working with a smaller population, and they want someone who will invest in the people. You’re the right fit. I’ve seen you work, son. You’re a rare breed.”

  “I’ll have to discuss this with my wife,” I tell him.

  Chief Arnold leans back into his leather chair, swinging back and forth. “There’s just one catch…”

  Of course, there is. Strings attached to the golden carrot dangling in front of me.

  “The hospital is located in Queensland, Australia.”

  My brain stutters for a moment. Every part of me goes into pause mode while my thoughts catch up. Australia. This is where I grew up, my home before we moved here. It was Dad’s home and was always a part of him.

  “When do you need to know by?” I question Chief Arnold. “And when would we have to move?”

  “Chief Watson needs an answer by the end of next month. The hospital will be opening the new wing just before Christmas.” Chief Arnold stands, extending his hand which I cordially shake. “Go home, talk to your wife, and I will await your answer.”

  ***

  “This view is amazing.”

  Zoey is standing at the window staring intently at the breathtaking views. Not too far in the distance, the ocean laps at the sand leaving its white foam to trail the waves as they retreat.

  From behind, I wrap my arms around her body, bringing her close to me. My nose, nuzzled in hair, inhales her intoxicating scent making me forget all about our troubles and worries back home and spending these moments focusing on us.

  “This is just what I need…” She turns around, her stomach in between us letting out a loud grumble. “How about we grab some lunch then a dip in the pool?”

  We opt to have lunch at the café by the pool, grabbing something light though enough to keep us until dinner.

  I’m glad Zoey jumped at the chance to go on this short trip—two days to be exact—which is all we can swing because of work. There’s just so much to do before the babies come, though I’ve never let on that I’m just as panicked about the time as she is.

  Stay calm, cool, and collected.

  That’s my motto.

  We continue to relax while people watching—something the both of us love doing. Surrounding us are plenty of childless couples, many with mimosas and various cocktails in their hands. A few kids play in the pool, but nobody is too noisy that could take away from the serenity.

  As the sun begins to shift the heat becomes too much for Zoey, and wanting to cool down she suggests we go change into our swimsuits for a relaxing dip in the pool.

  Back in the room, Zoey walks out of the bathroom wearing her black one-piece costume.

  “I look like a hippo in a tutu.” Placing her hands on her hips with a flash of annoyance, she adjusts her tits so they’re covered properly. “What was I thinking buying a one-piece with this frilly skirt to hide my hippo ass.”

  I laugh but not because she resembles a hippo. “You look beautiful and pregnant.”

  “I wonder what a hippo looks like pregnant?”

  “Enough with the hippos. Let’s swim.”

  Zoey loves the water, floating and easing her back pain from carrying the babies. We don’t dare go in the spa as I worry that the temperature will be too much. Zoey is well into her third trimester, and at thirty-four weeks, the babies can come at any time. Twin pregnancies have a higher rate of early labor.

  “I want to live in a resort, drink cocktail
s every day, and just read.” She sighs, dreamily.

  “You say that now, but you’ll get bored. You’ll crave the city life.”

  Zoey raises herself from the water, her darkened short hair resting on her shoulders. “How do I know if I never try it?”

  “You spent your single life going from the apartment to work… that’s it. You had every opportunity to go live in a resort. Now it’s time for us to settle down.”

  “Um, firstly, I did that stint in London. You can’t say I’ve done nothing. And second, just because we decide to stay somewhere with the babies, doesn’t mean we have to settle there. I hate it when clients want to build their dream home. It’s called dream home for now. Your dreams are constantly evolving. Your dream now may not be your dream tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. But Zo, we need to get serious here. The apartment is small, and it’ll be fine until the babies start crawling. We need to think about our next step.”

  I’m desperate to bring up the job offer in Australia, but timing is everything with Zoey. Now is not the time. I just want her to relax and enjoy this mini-vacation.

  “You want to move back to the house?” Zoey asks.

  “I don’t know. I’m just saying we’ll have to think about schools. Where do we want to raise our kids? What kind of life do we want for them?”

  Zoey avoids all eye contact splashing her legs in the pool.

  “It’s getting hot, and I’m getting tired. Think I’ll head back to the room for a nap.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “No, you stay. You’re enjoying it. I’ll just have a quick nap and join you back here in an hour. We can take a walk along the marina and maybe stop for dinner somewhere.”

  ***

  Zoey’s nap turns into an afternoon hibernation. After an hour, I make my way back to the room. The sun has toasted me, producing a nice tan. Entering the room quietly, Zoey is tucked into the sheets, laying on her side and snoring. I don’t want to interrupt her, so I take a long shower enjoying the water on my muscles. After changing into a pair of shorts and polo, I walk back into the room to hear her stir.