That Baby

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That Baby Page 5

by Jillian Dodd


  "That surprises me," he says, sliding his hand through my hair to calm me. "You usually want to keep stuff a secret."

  "I think your parents will be excited." I stop and consider something I don't want to consider. "But if you're right about the miscarriage thing, I guess I feel two different ways. Part of me doesn't want to tell them until we know the baby is okay. The other part of me thinks if something bad happened, I'd need them to know."

  Phillip gently kisses across my forehead. "I swear, everyone will take one look at you and know."

  "How?"

  "You're glowing."

  "I am not. I was just puking."

  He kisses me again. "It was just gagging and you don't look sick. You look beautiful. What if we tell them at the Super Bowl party? We could wear the shirts, see if anyone guesses."

  "That sounds fun."

  Before I go to work, I stop by Lori's house to see how the kitchen remodel is going.

  I look around at the mostly empty shell. The room is in shambles. "Well, it's coming right along! You could come to work with me sometime, if you want to get out of here. Or go hang out at my house any time you want. You shouldn't be around all this dust."

  She raises an eyebrow at me. "I'll make sure to ring the doorbell first."

  "After the other night, that's probably wise," I laugh.

  She pulls me away from the construction zone and into the den. "You know, if you want to get pregnant, what you were doing won't work."

  "Having sex won't get me pregnant?"

  She does a little cough. "Are you serious about wanting to be pregnant, Jade?"

  "Uh, yes."

  "Didn't you listen to all the stuff I told you the other day?"

  "Of course I did."

  "No, you didn't. Your eyes glazed over. Wait a minute. You were doing it on your couch! Don't you have your period?"

  "Oh, uh, it was really light this month. The pill, you know."

  She narrows her eyes at me.

  She's going to kill me when I tell her on Sunday that I'm already pregnant. But this conversation is cracking me up, so I let her keep going. And who knows, maybe I'll need to know this for our next baby.

  Oh my god. Did I really just think that?

  I think back to the marriage test we took. How Phillip said he wanted four kids close together and I was thinking one sounded good. But I can so see us with a house full of kids.

  Or maybe that's the pregnancy hormones talking.

  I resist the urge to put my hand across my belly.

  She's still going on about how I should put a pillow underneath me and not get up for at least ten minutes.

  "How far along are you now?" I ask her, hoping to change the subject, even though she just told me a few days ago.

  "Twenty eight weeks."

  "You look great," I say, even though she's looking a bit disheveled.

  She runs her hand through her hair. "I'm still tired and the workers are here at the crack of dawn. I'm not sure why we decided to do this now."

  "Because you wanted it done before the baby comes."

  "That's right. I need to keep reminding myself."

  "Do you have to be here the whole time they're working?"

  "Um, well, no."

  "Why don't you go over to my house, take a long shower, take your time getting ready and then meet me for a late lunch. Then we could go look at nursery furniture. I know you've been wanting to do that."

  And, honestly, I kind of want to go look myself. I'm dying to design our baby's nursery.

  "Oh, that sounds fun. I can't believe you're offering to go shopping. Am I going to have to buy you drinks first?"

  "No. I'm starting to like shopping more and more. I've been having a lot of fun choosing all the fixtures and furniture for the office building."

  "Well, I'll take it. I have a list of four stores that are supposed to have the best stuff. We'll start with that. Are you sure you can take off the whole afternoon?"

  "Yeah, I need to swing by the job site and meet the engineer this morning and then go to the office, but I'll meet you at one. Just text me where."

  "That sounds good."

  "Alright, I better get going."

  She gives me a tight hug, her plump belly hitting my still flat one. "Thank you. You know Danny hates to shop."

  I get tears in my eyes, thinking about how our stomachs just touched.

  "What's with the tears?" she asks, her own eyes quickly filling up.

  "I was just thinking how our kids will grow up to be best friends."

  "Awww. Wouldn't that be amazing?"

  On my drive to the job site, Danny calls me.

  "Sounds like I owe you a thank you."

  "Why's that?"

  "Because you're going nursery shopping with my lovely bride. Not to mention the show the other night."

  "I wondered when you were going to bring that up. You've been way too quiet about it."

  "I think it's awesome. Enjoy it while you can."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Pregnancy changes things."

  "And Lori hates change."

  "Yes, she does because she can't control it."

  "So your second pregnancy will go smoother."

  "Let's just see if we can make it through the first one. I feel like I'm dancing in a minefield and I never know when I'm going to make a wrong step and blow up."

  "I've heard pregnant women are emotional," I say, thinking about how my emotions are already everywhere.

  Danny chuckles. "That's an understatement. You ready for the Super Bowl Party? My parents want to stay with you, since our house is a disaster zone."

  "That's fine. Shit. I should be cleaning. But, instead, I'm shopping with your wife. Maybe since I'm doing that, you should go over to my house and dust."

  "Maybe you should hire someone."

  "You know how Phillip is with money and now that we're p--"

  "Now that you're what?"

  "Uh, preparing to have children."

  "Preparing, huh? Looked more like doing something about it the other night."

  "Shut up, Danny," I say, hanging up on him.

  Dear Baby Mac,

  I went nursery shopping with my friend, Lori, today. I've decided that going into a baby boutique the first time you are pregnant is similar to seeing a mythical creature. It's an amazing experience. Everything was so teeny, soft, and perfectly wonderful. I wanted to buy it all and bring it home for you. But if I would have done that, it wouldn't all match, so I started thinking up possible designs for your room.

  There are lots of different decor options that are popular right now. And different rules of thought. Some believe a nursery should be bright and stimulating to the baby. Others believe it should be soft and calming. Others go the organic route. And others just want to be on trend. Some of the trends we saw were metallic gold, tribal, rustic, neutral colors, soft colors, bold graphics, vintage, and French inspired.

  So basically, anything goes.

  I'm also currently obsessing over a soft rose gold chandelier. Your father would die if he saw what it costs, but if they can get it in a smaller (and cheaper) size, I might have to have it.

  I also saw a photo of a room that had teeny twinkle lights in the ceiling, similar to what they sometimes do in movie rooms. Considering your dad and I love to look at the stars, it seems perfect. Now I have to find the perfect everything to go with it. I'm leaning toward soft, calming colors.

  Do you think you'd like that?

  February 3rd

  Constant worry.

  "Phillip, we have so much to do. Go to the store. Clean the house. Get the food ready."

  "Why don't you go to the store and I'll clean?" he suggests.

  "Really? You're offering to clean?"

  "Yeah, no problem. I'll take care of it."

  "Phillip, your mom is coming. Her house is always spotless. I've been sick and we haven't cleaned since we moved in."

  He kisses me. "You're not
sick; you're pregnant. And don't worry. I'll do the upstairs bathrooms and vacuum the guest bedrooms. It'll all be good."

  I know Phillip is meticulous and I really don't want to clean, so I take him up on his offer.

  Today, for the first time in weeks, I haven't felt sick.

  And although I should be rejoicing, I'm worried. Worried it might mean something is wrong with our baby.

  Is this what being a parent is going to be like? Constant worry?

  Now I see why my parents would freak out when I was ten minutes late for curfew.

  On the way to the store, I get nauseous again, which is oddly comforting, and causes me to stop for a donut. I sit in the parking lot, slowly savoring it. Lately, a very slowly eaten plain white cake donut has some sort of magical stomach calming power.

  Already behind schedule, I know I'm going to have to rush through the grocery store.

  But when I arrive, the parking lot is packed.

  Apparently, everyone and their mother are shopping for their Super Bowl parties.

  At the store by my condo in Nebraska, I knew where everything was and could whip through quickly. This store has a completely different setup.

  I think there should be some kind of law that forces all grocery stores to be set up in the same basic order. Instead of running through the store and getting all I need, I'm constantly backtracking.

  I get sidetracked in the bakery, buying multiple loaves of bread, muffins, and a couple of cakes. But when I round the corner, the smell of raw fish makes me gag.

  And even though I didn't smell it before, now it doesn't matter where I go in the store, the scent is overwhelming. I decide I have enough stuff, stand in line forever to pay, and then get the heck out of the store.

  When I get home, Phillip helps me unload the groceries.

  "Didn't you get any tortilla chips?" he asks when all the sacks are empty.

  I plop onto a barstool and start crying.

  "Why are you crying?"

  "I don't know!"

  He kisses the top of my head. "It's not a big deal. I can run and get some or ask my mom to stop."

  "I didn't get everything on the list, Phillip. I was all excited because I didn't feel sick this morning. Well, I was worried but excited."

  "Why were you worried?"

  "Because if I'm not sick, couldn't that mean I'm not pregnant anymore? Or that I'm going to lose the baby? But on the way to the store, I got nauseous, which made me feel better. So I was fine shopping--even though I couldn't find anything, but then I went by the seafood. After that, no matter where I went in the store I could still smell it. I had to get out of there."

  He pushes my chin up. "You got the beer."

  "That's all our friends care about. But it's my first party in our home, Phillip. I want it to be perfect. And that's not like me."

  "You never stress over parties. You seem to throw them effortlessly."

  "That's because I always get the beer," I laugh. "You're right. The party will be fun because of who is here. It doesn't matter if the house is perfectly done yet or if there's a little dust. It's our friends and family who matter."

  "Exactly, right, Princess. Why don't you stay where you are, tell me what to do, and I'll make everything."

  "I love you, Phillip," I say gratefully, knowing I probably won't be able to cook the hamburger for the cheese dip without gagging.

  "Are you excited to open all our wedding presents tonight?" he asks.

  "I am. It's fun that we have room to put everything. I'm so glad that your mom made me keep my parents' dining room set. It fits the room nicely."

  "Still looks a little bare though."

  "Well, we can't do everything at once. We spent most of our budget on furnishing our very own sports bar in the basement."

  "Worth every penny," he says. "It's an awesome room."

  "It is. I figure we can save up. Do a room at a time. We still need a kitchen table too. I looked a little online but I want something special."

  "Special how?"

  "I want pieces that mean something to us, not just pretty stuff to fill up the space, if that makes sense. Like my mom's favorite painting was one she and my dad bought on their honeymoon. I think when we see what's right, we'll know it."

  "The Plaza has an art fair every year. Maybe we could find something there," he suggests.

  "I love that, Phillip. Maybe even a painting of the Plaza itself. Or our fountain. Wouldn't that be amazing?"

  He wipes his hands on a towel and takes mine. "You did all those sketches of what the inside of the offices will look like. Could you do that for our house? Our dream house book?"

  "That's a great idea, Phillip. I'll make drawings for each room. And it would be a great way for me to save paint and fabric swatches, decor ideas. In fact, I found a really cool chandelier for the nursery, and I saved a photo from one of the house magazines I was looking at on our flight home from the honeymoon." I dig through my purse and show Phillip the photo. "See how they did contemporary wing backs at the heads of the table? I thought that would be so cool and give the table a more modern look. Hang on." I grab an empty sketchpad from my office, sit back down at the bar, tape in the photo, then use a metallic marker to write on the front of the book.

  Dream House.

  I look at Phillip--really look at him--and my heart swells with love. "You're pretty smart, Phillip. You're going to make a great dad."

  I am immediately rewarded with a long, sweet kiss.

  I take a nap while Phillip makes a trip to the store.

  When he gets back, he gently runs his hand across my face to wake me.

  I sigh, feeling blissfully happy. I'm so lucky to be married to Phillip.

  "I suppose I better get ready. Everyone will be here soon and I can't wait to see what we got."

  "We registered for some really cool stuff," he agrees.

  "Phillip, I was thinking we could use some of the money we get to decorate the nursery. Would you be okay with that?"

  "I think that's an awesome idea."

  "I'm excited to decorate the nursery."

  "Do you know what you want?"

  "Not yet. Looking at the nursery stores with Lori was both amazing and completely overwhelming. So many directions you can go with decor. Do you have anything in mind?"

  "Most nurseries I've seen have been bright colors, but it seems counterproductive to me. Don't we want the baby to sleep in there? Shouldn't it be calm and serene, like our bedroom?"

  "I think that's a good idea, Phillip. I suppose I should get up and help you put the groceries away."

  "I suppose you should," he says, surprising me--and not in a good way. I thought he'd already have it done, and maybe want to slip into bed with me.

  But when I get to the kitchen, I see why he wanted me to come out here.

  On the island is a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

  "What are those for?" I ask.

  "No reason, really. Although, technically you've been my wife for two weeks now." He kisses me. "Happy Anniversary."

  "Happy Anniversary, Phillip. Thank you! They are so pretty. I need to get them in some water. Although, I don't have a vase."

  Phillip runs downstairs and comes up with a pitcher sized beer mug called Das boot, which must be German for, let's get drunk. He fills it with water while I cut the ends of the stems then arrange them in the glass.

  "It looks good," I say.

  "Hopefully we registered for a vase," he chuckles.

  "Yes, this is looking pretty classy," I say with a laugh.

  He grabs my ass with one hand and kisses my neck.

  I raise an eyebrow at him. "Phillip, you didn't buy flowers for no reason. You want sex and you're hoping the flowers will get it for you."

  "Really, going back to the store for you should have been enough, don't you think?"

  "Yes, that was sweet. Did you know you have a sexual tell? Whenever you do this"--I grab his butt and kiss his neck--"it means you want it."


  He gives me a sexy smile, but ignores my comment.

  "And how is my beautiful wife feeling right now?" he asks, picking me up and carrying me into the bedroom.

  "Perfect," I say as he lays me on the bed.

  I'm feeling dreamy after our late afternoon romp.

  After showering together and getting ready, he checks his phone. "The parents should be here any minute."

  A few minutes later, the doorbell rings announcing the arrival of the Macs and the Diamonds. After hugs and kisses and questions about the honeymoon, the dads and Phillip are sent out to unload their cars. Very quickly, my hall is filled with bags and my kitchen island and frig are filled with more food.

  I peek at the roast I put in the oven earlier and see that it's looking and smelling perfect. I toss in carrots and onions and throw some tinfoil loosely over the top, then get everyone set up with a drink and a chair in the dining room. Lori and Danny join us as well and Mr. and Mrs. Diamond look at each other then say at the same time, "We have some news."

  Chuck says, "Mary, why don't you tell them?"

  Mary smiles. "Chuck decided to go into semi-retirement. We want to travel a lot and decided to start by touring the south of France: Monaco, Nice, and the French Riviera. Then we're going on a cruise of the Greek Islands. Since Danny is off season and the baby isn't due for a few months, we decided it would be the perfect time."

  Mrs. Mac adds, "And I thought I'd travel down here with Doug while he's on business. Maybe I can help you with the building, JJ."

  "Uh, we have most everything picked out already, but I'm sure Phillip could find you something to do at the office," I say in a diplomatic way.

  Phillip's sister, Ashley, and her husband, Cooper, arrive midway through the gift opening. This past fall, I was really worried about their marriage.

  But as we open more gifts, I notice that they are sitting very close to each other, the way they did when they were first dating. His hand is on her knee and she's beaming.

  When we take a break to refill drinks, I pull her aside. "You and Cooper seem so happy. Things going better?"

  "Things are going great," she says. "He was really stressed this fall, trying to finish his Masters Degree and studying for his Series Seven license. He's graduated, passed the tests, and is back to doing what he loves--selling financial services. He also got a big raise when he got his licensing and he's earning more commission, so he's taking me on an amazing anniversary trip this spring. We're going to buy a house soon and we're even talking about when we might start a family."

 

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