That Baby

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That Baby Page 6

by Jillian Dodd


  I give her a hug. "I'm so happy for you, Ash. How's your job going?"

  "It's good and it looks like I'll get to transfer to the school of my choice this fall. I may not be able to teach first grade, but I'll be in the elementary school in the area where we want to buy a house, so I'm hoping it all works out. What about you? The honeymoon sounded amazing and I heard you're breaking ground this week."

  "We are. As soon as we get all the building permits, construction will start."

  "My dad is really excited. Did you hear he and Mom are going to be staying with you?"

  "Like tonight?"

  "Yes, tonight, but also while Dad is traveling down here for business. Phillip told him it's silly for him to stay in a hotel. While the Diamonds are out of the country, Mom's going to travel with him. You're going to have to find some way to keep her busy at the office or she's going to be all up in your business."

  "You think?"

  "I know. I love my mother, but I wouldn't want her living with me. You know how she is. Everything has to be done her way. Look," Ashley says, "it's already started. See what she just did?"

  "Did she just rearrange my water goblets?"

  "Yep," Ashley says, giving me a pat on the back. "You won't know where anything is in your own house. And imagine what having her here will do to your sex life."

  I wander nonchalantly over to the kitchen cabinet she just rearranged and take a peek. She has all the goblets lined up like little soldiers. She's moved the basic ones I use every day to a higher shelf and put the prettier ones on the first shelf.

  I shrug off Ashley's comment because, really, I should use the prettier ones more often. And once we open presents, I'll have to rearrange them again anyway.

  I'm sure she's just exaggerating.

  They say every couple gets at least one memorable wedding gift. Sometimes it is good, sometimes it is bad, and sometimes it's downright ugly.

  What we got doesn't fall into any of these categories. Sure, we got many amazing and thoughtful gifts. Gorgeous sets of china and stemware, everyday dishes, serveware, Christmas items, gourmet cookware, garage essentials, candlesticks, gadgets, table linens, sheets, and towels.

  But our memorable thing is a Husker garden gnome. He's small, dressed in our team colors, and has a cute hat, but I'm pretty sure this gnome is up to no good.

  I privately tell Phillip, "I'm not sure about the gnome. Did you see his shifty eyes? He's looking up at you like he's good but yet he still looks evil. I think he has a plan to take over the world. Can you imagine trying to bow to a gnome?"

  "You're being silly. I think it's kinda cute. And, besides, it's a Husker gnome."

  By the time we get all the presents open, the moms have drunk a fair amount of wine. They help me do the dinner dishes and quickly retire. Lori goes home. Ashley and Cooper can't seem to wait to get to their hotel, and Danny, Phillip, and the dads are smoking cigars in the hot tub.

  I'm puttering around putting a few of the gifts away.

  I decide to tackle the china, proudly opening Mom's cabinet while imagining her doing the very same thing after she and my dad were married.

  I'm emotional and may have a few tears in my eyes as I reach for a vegetable bowl.

  "Ahh!" I scream, because there, behind the bowl, stands the gnome.

  Oh my gosh! The gnome moved!

  Don't laugh. I'm serious.

  After the gnome was opened and passed around the room, I set the gnome on the buffet table with some other home decor items--beautiful picture frames, crystal candlesticks, and some cool hurricane lanterns.

  I judge the distance from the buffet to the table and wonder how he got there.

  It's then that I realize the gnome is smirking at me.

  And I know his expression has changed because I clearly remember pointing out his creepy smile.

  I walk out to the deck and ask Phillip, "Hey, you know that Husker garden gnome? Do you remember it's facial expression?"

  "What?" Mr. Mac says, scotch sloshing.

  "I do," Danny says with a naughty smirk of his own. "It has an O-shaped mouth like he'd just been pleasured by a girl gnome."

  They all laugh like it's the funniest thing they have ever heard.

  I go back and look at the gnome. He's wearing the creepy smile again and he may have just winked at me.

  I ignore the stupid gnome, grab the adorable football-shaped chip and dip bowl and a set of stacked stainless steel bowls and take them to the kitchen to use for the party tomorrow. Then I grab the mugs that will be perfect for Bloody Marys and put them in the dishwasher.

  Time for bed.

  But as I'm brushing my teeth, I can't stop thinking about the gnome.

  I run back to the dining room and look the gnome in the eye. He responds with a blank stare--the kind of stare people give you when they are trying to pretend they don't care about something very important.

  I throw some gift wrap over his head and go to bed.

  February 4th

  Like each other.

  I'm getting ready for the party when Phillip's mom asks me to grab our new crockpot.

  When I get to the dining room, I do a double take.

  The wrapping paper is off the gnome's head and it's smooshed down next to his little round-toed boot--like all he's been doing since I covered him up was stomping on the paper.

  I imagine the gnome moving around at night.

  I realize I'm being ridiculous. Even if he did smash the paper, he didn't move very far.

  I pick him up carefully, turning him over to study his legs. There's no space between them, just a line appearing to separate them. Really, it's just one big stub going into a large black mono-boot. More inspection shows that he has no knees. If he could walk, it would be more of a wobble.

  This is crazy. There's no way the gnome could move on its own. Someone must have moved it.

  But just to be sure, I put the gnome in the china cabinet and lock it for good measure. I reconsider his placement as I have visions of him doing the mono-legged stomp all over my new china pattern. I unlock the door, grab him, and shove him face up into the top drawer of the hutch--like he's in a little coffin--with my new formal flatware.

  Then I grab the crockpot and go back to making cheese dip for the game.

  Phillip's mom, who has been taking food down to the bar, comes back up and says, "JJ, do you have a dust rag? The bar, well, the basement is pretty dusty."

  "Uh, sure," I say, handing her a dishtowel.

  "Dusting only takes a minute," she tells me. "I'll have it cleaned up quick."

  I instantly feel like a failure as a wife. My face gets hot and tears threaten. "Phillip was supposed to dust," I say to myself.

  Mrs. D's hand touches mine. "You're barely settled."

  I know what she's saying is true, but it feels like an excuse.

  "Thanks. I'm gonna go change. Everyone should be here soon."

  I'm on the way to our bedroom when Phillip comes up the stairs.

  "You didn't dust the basement?"

  "No, it wasn't that bad. Besides, why get it spotless when it's just going to get messed up at the party? So, are you ready to put on our shirts?"

  "You need to tell your mom that you were in charge of dusting."

  "No way! I don't want to get chewed out. Besides, this is our house and today is not about dusting. It's about telling everyone we love that we're expecting."

  "You're right, Phillip. You're always right."

  He laughs. "Except when you are."

  "You're still right," I tease.

  I strip off my sweats, throw on a pair of comfy ripped jeans, my Mac Mommy jersey, and then put a cardigan over the top of it.

  "You look sexy," Phillip tells me, grabbing my ass.

  "Are you going to say that when I have a stomach the size of a watermelon?"

  "Absolutely," he says with such sincerity that I actually believe him.

  I'm running around, finishing getting everyone settled with drink
s. Our friends, Joey and Chelsea, arrived just a few minutes ago, along with Danny's teammate and his wife, Marcus and Madison.

  Phillip hands me a bubbly drink in a wine glass.

  I give him a duh look.

  "It's sparkling water and lime. Why don't you to sit, relax, and enjoy the game," he says.

  "I'd rather sit on your lap, snuggled up with you."

  "I think I can make that happen," he says, sitting in his favorite spot and pulling me onto his lap.

  "They're newlyweds," Danny says. "They still like each other."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Lori asks.

  "I just meant it's new," Danny replies. "I wasn't referring to our relationship. I still like you too."

  She looks down at her growing baby bump and frowns. "You didn't ask me to sit on your lap."

  Danny says in a patronizing tone, "Why don't we all sit on each other's laps. Save some space."

  Tears threaten Lori's face as she stomps out of the room.

  "Oh, jeez," he says. "She's so freaking sensitive. Now she's going to accuse me of saying we needed to save space because she's fat. I can't say anything right."

  Mr. Diamond says, "But you're going after her, aren't you, son? To apologize."

  "But I didn't do anything wrong!" Danny protests.

  "You got her pregnant," his dad replies.

  Danny takes a long drag of beer, looks longingly at the opening ceremonies playing on TV, and then he sets the beer down with a sigh. As he's walking away, he leans down and whispers to us, "Be glad you're not pregnant."

  My mouth drops open in surprise. Phillip slides his hand down my arm and gives me a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through it just fine. I promise. I can deal with your little moods."

  "I have little moods?" The TV is turned up to Mach Four, so no one can hear me.

  "Of course, everyone does."

  "You're sure we should tell everyone so soon? Now, I'm nervous."

  "I can't wait to tell everyone. Although, I keep expecting someone to guess, I can tell just by looking at you."

  "No, you can't. You were shocked when I told you."

  He kisses the side of my face. "Oh, that's right."

  I snuggle up closer and pretend to watch the game as I whisper to him. "I think you're the one who looks all sneaky and adorable."

  "I'm adorable?"

  "Yes. I love you, Phillip. You're the sweetest boy ever. Always have been."

  His finger trails along the bottom of my jersey, just brushing my abdomen. "Lori has really popped out. Hard to believe in a few months you'll be that way."

  "My body won't look the same."

  "Does that worry you?" he asks.

  "A little. Especially after seeing how pregnancy seems to have affected Lori's confidence."

  "You shouldn't be worried. I'm going to spoil you rotten."

  I smile. I like being spoiled.

  Sometime during the first quarter, Lori and Danny rejoin the group and when Phillip gets up to grab another beer, Danny asks me, "Is that the jersey you had made?"

  "Yeah, it's cute, huh?"

  "Yours is cute too," Lori says. "I like the sparkle."

  I'm waiting--hoping--that someone will ask me what mine says, but there's an interception and everyone is glued to the TV.

  At halftime, I take my cardigan off and wait for the fireworks to start. For someone to notice what the back of my shirt says.

  But no one does.

  By the third quarter, I can't take it any longer. I stand directly in front of the TV so that everyone can see my back.

  Mrs. Diamond looks from me to Phillip and says, "Mac Mommy?"

  I smile. "Cute, huh?" But she still doesn't seem to get it, and Mrs. Mac is deep in conversation with Ashley.

  "So he's the Mac Daddy and you're the Mac Mommy?" Mrs. Diamond asks.

  I nod again, an even wider grin taking over my face.

  "Are you pregnant?"

  Phillip bounds across the couch--possibly the fastest I've ever seen him move--and places his hand across my stomach. "We are pregnant."

  Somewhere along the way, his mom must have overheard part of the conversation because she makes a torturous sound, shakes her head, and says, "No?! What?! You're pregnant!? No way!" She stands up, her hands in front of her face and starts scream crying, which turns into an ugly cry as she continues to screech. "No!? Really? Is this a joke?"

  Phillip shakes his head. "It's not a joke, Mom. You're really going to be a grandma."

  "Ohmigawd, I don't believe it!" she yells, flailing her hands in the air.

  "Believe it," Phillip tells her, laughing so hard at her reaction he's practically crying. "We're six weeks along."

  She covers her face with her hands, overcome.

  Then she starts running in place while waving her hands in the air and screaming. She grabs Mrs. D and jumps around her. "Did you hear that? I'm gonna be a grandma! I can't believe it. We'll be grandmas together!"

  She's clapping now and still crying.

  Phillip's dad is smiling big. He gives me a hug and congratulates his son with a slap on the back. Then I notice tears well up in his eyes as he glances toward the ceiling. I know he's thinking about my dad missing this moment.

  Which makes me wonder how my parents would have reacted to the news.

  I can't believe they have to miss out on this. It was bad enough to miss my wedding--but this is so much more.

  My mom would have cried, but in a more dignified way. My dad would have been the more emotional one.

  I have to admit, I'm happily surprised by everyone's reactions. The kid in me was kind of worried they'd say we are too young, that it's too soon. All the things I thought at first.

  But all I see is joy in their expressions.

  Lori mutters to me, "You have some explaining to do." But then goes on to say something about our babies being future best friends.

  Danny rolls his eyes and teases, "Poor Phillip."

  Finally, Mrs. Mac rushes over, fanning her face, and hugs us both.

  Everyone gives us hugs.

  Well, everyone but Chelsea.

  I notice she's sitting on the couch, motionless, then she looks me in the eye, stands up and cries out, "I'm pregnant too!" bursts into tears, and runs upstairs.

  Lori and I rush after her, finding her sobbing on the couch.

  "I'm like a public service announcement for drunken hookups," she cries. "Don't have sex in the bathroom at a wedding without a condom, boys and girls, or you'll be walking down the aisle at your own wedding in a maternity dress. If he doesn't ditch you."

  I sit down next to her and smile. "You got pregnant at my wedding? That's awesome."

  She laughs through her tears.

  Lori asks gently, "Did Joey already know?"

  "Yes, he's been amazing. But I'm so afraid to tell our families. I want them to freak out like Mrs. Mac did, not question it."

  "Chelsea," I say, "if you and Joey are excited about it. Your families will be too."

  "And I'm sorry I yelled in the middle of your news. I'm so embarrassed."

  "Seriously, it's okay. Just think of how fun it will be to be pregnant together."

  "It will be nice," she says.

  "Come on. Let's go downstairs."

  We go back down to the family room, where everyone congratulates us both.

  Once the excitement dies down and everyone starts watching the game again, I notice Joey fidgeting. Chelsea isn't sitting by him, she's over by Lori with her knees pulled up on the couch. She almost looks scared.

  I can understand why. This pregnancy business is scary stuff.

  Emotions. Body changes.

  When another round of commercials starts to play, Joey stands up in front of the TV, blocking everyone's view.

  "This isn't how I planned to do it," he says. "I was going to do it later tonight, all romantic-like. Candles. Hotel suite. But I think you need to hear me say this in front of everyone." He holds his hand out. "Chelsea, please, come
here."

  Lori half pushes her up off the couch.

  When Chelsea joins him in front of the TV, she says, "What are you doing?"

  Joey takes both her hands in his. "We've had a long history of almosts. Almost kissed. Almost dated. Almost were single at the same time. When I pulled you in the bathroom this past New Year's Eve, I told you I didn't want almost anymore. That you needed to kiss the guy you should be with for the rest of the year. What I should have said was for the rest of your life right then, because that's how I felt. And I don't want you to feel like we're almost pregnant just because it happened so fast. I want to tell everyone that you're having my baby. There are going to be no more almosts for us. Chelsea, sweetie, I want you to marry me. Almost as much as I love you."

  Chelsea is crying and so am I, because Joey, my goofy, perpetually horny, childhood friend looks sincerely happy.

  He bends down on one knee and pulls out a ring box. "Chelsea, will you marry me?"

  "You got a ring?" she asks, shocked.

  "Yes," he says.

  As he opens it, Chelsea starts shaking. "It's beautiful. You picked this out by yourself?"

  He smiles at Danny and Phillip. "I got a little advice from a few friends, but yeah."

  When he slides the ring on her finger, I notice that he's starting to sweat.

  "You haven't answered me yet," he says nervously.

  She throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes, Joey! Yes!"

  I smack Phillip playfully. "You knew?"

  "I thought he was going to propose tonight at the hotel. Been a pretty exciting Super Bowl, huh?"

  After Joey and Chelsea stop kissing, Lori asks, "So when are you due, Chelsea? You and Jade have to be due about the same time."

  "October the fourth," she says.

  "And I'm due on the first. In case you all didn't notice, the numbers on our shirts are our due date."

  Chelsea runs over to me. "I'm sorry I ruined your announcement. The way you told everyone was so adorable." She stares at her sparkly new ring and gets tears in her eyes again.

  I glance at the close game on the TV and decide it's just not that important.

  "You need to come with Lori and me," I say, dragging her upstairs.

 

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