The Co-Parent (The Relationship Quo Series Book 3)

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The Co-Parent (The Relationship Quo Series Book 3) Page 22

by Nicole Strycharz


  Arm! All cradled around itself I feel an arm and a super tiny fist, then another. My fingertips went back up to skim over the brows, then over the circular head shape. If I could use my eyes they would be worthless because I’m crying too hard.

  My hands strayed up past the profile to where there was braille and I stopped to go back over it and read. My breath caught as I read aloud, “I…am…a baby …b-baby…girl!” My eyes bulged! “Gabe! It’s a girl!”

  He laughed at my enthusiasm and came to lean into me but I hugged him. I hugged him like I had the strength of ten men.

  “I win,” he teased.

  “Did you do this? All the- did you have the sculpture made?”

  “Yes…” he sat on the edge of my exam table and held me closer, “I didn’t tell you, you’d never of let me pay for it so…”

  I laughed and held the sculpture close. A girl. A baby girl, Blueberry is a girl! I would have let you do this! This is…”

  Oh. I guess that means Gabe does win.

  When we got home I was too anxious to just go inside. I keep my sculpture close so I can touch and feel to imagine Blueberry. Gabe walked with me all over the property but we ended up under the willow in our yard. He sat against the trunk between two roots, in a suit no less.

  I made my way awkwardly down there and sat in his side. He’s long and makes me feel tiny, even six months pregnant.

  “A girl…” I said for the hundredth time. “What do we name her?”

  “Good question…” he set his cheek over the top of my head and sighed. “I’ve never seen babies on ultrasounds. That was…wild. She has your nose.”

  “Your lips, though. Which is a plus since you have great lips.”

  He laughed or grumble laughed so it was deep in his chest. “I feel greedy now. I want to know hair color, eye color, I feel impatient.” He admitted.

  I sighed, “Gotta wait, rich boy.”

  We were silent a minute and I felt a confession coming on. Another benefit of being blind now; I can actually feel moods, especially when they change.

  “My father…he’s coming to the states…” He told me.

  I felt as depressed as he sounded. “When?”

  “November. So two months from now. He’s holding some big Banquet for the partners and to finally claim Vicars.”

  I patted his knee, “Worried?”

  “He’s coming to see you, not the partners. It’s an excuse. He has no respect for women, Bri this visit won’t be a good one. I know what I am with women, I know I don’t exactly win awards but I don’t hate them. He hates them.”

  “Well, he’s going to be a grandpa-.”

  “That won’t matter to him. He’s not like your dads. He’ll say things.”

  “So what?” I moved back and he sat up. “Your dad doesn’t scare me.”

  He laughed, “That makes one of us then…”

  “Let’s stop talking about Dads, let’s talk about names. Blueberry can’t be named after a fruit her whole life. If we don’t give her a name soon we might never stop calling her that.” Gabe made tapping sounds on his phone so I felt around and took it, “Focus.”

  “Fine…” he breathed out through his nostrils. “Let’s name her Nicotine…Nikki for short because daddy might kill someone if he doesn’t get it soon.”

  I cupped behind my ear, “Oh, hear that? It’s the world’s tiniest violin.”

  He held the back of my head and pressed his lips against my temple. “If only I could smoke you. You have similar effects to nicotine.”

  “Lizzie? Carrie? Helen-?” I pushed names out to make him start thinking and to get him off talking about us. I don’t want to go there.

  “Er… No, no, and no. All those names make me think of other people.”

  “Like who?”

  “Lizzie Bordon… Carrie from that bloody American prom film… Helen Keller.”

  “Wow.”

  “I want a name that reminds us of something.”

  I giggled, “What about first name, Shoulda and middle name Condom.”

  He laughed with me a minute then we stopped to think. “This tree is nice,” he said.

  I looked up and tried to imagine the gently blowing leaves. I have a memory. The drooping branches are like a safe haven from the outside world. “I love willow trees.” I told him. “They make everything feel like peace.”

  He hummed in agreement. Then went still, “Willow…”

  I set my head back against his shoulder, “Willow?”

  “For a name. What if her name is Willow?”

  I needed to test that, “Willow Gilmore Birks…”

  “Er, no, Willow Birks Gilmore.”

  I shook my head, “We aren’t married so her last name should be the same as mine.”

  He sighed, “You don’t put a name like Gilmore in the middle. It goes at the end. She also needs a middle name too.”

  I came from under his arm, “No, we aren’t doing that to this poor child. Her name will be too long. Willow Faye Gilmore Birks the III? What is it with you British folk? It’s wrong-.” I sat straight up when I heard myself, “Faye! Yes! Oh my God that is so perfect! Willow Faye Gilmore Birks!”

  “It amazes me that you didn’t even need me for that argument.”

  October

  Gabe saw the true extent of my morbidness when Halloween came. Chloe and I found a black spandex costume that had a skeleton printed on it. Where my bump was they printed a baby skeleton too! So I looked like a pregnant skeleton carrying a skeleton baby.

  Chloe gave me a smoky eye look and I sported some heavy skull and crossbones earrings. It was actually according to Chloe, a ‘sexy mama,’ look.

  “You should dress up,” I told Gabe as I popped a candy corn in my mouth and headed for the living room that night.

  “I don’t do Halloween unless I’m liquored up.” He told me.

  I found the couch and sat Indian style. “When you become a dad you have to dress up. It’s mandatory.” He didn’t sit so I patted the cushion.

  “Is it safe?” He asked.

  I sighed, “Don’t be such a sissy.”

  “Really? A sissy? Shall we review the day from hell you’ve given me?”

  I munched away on the candy corn but laid my head on the back of the couch in exasperation. “They were just Halloween pranks.”

  “You and your little minion of a friend, Miss Chloe! You put red dye in my toothpaste. I thought my gums were bleeding.”

  I smiled, “You’re so vain.”

  “Then you put a murderous looking clown in my bloody closet!” He started to sound pissed.

  I laughed, “Moses hates clowns too. Chloe said she put his in the shower, though. That was smart.”

  He tried to sound serious, “I think the real win of the day was you suddenly screaming in the kitchen and yelling that the baby was chewing it’s way out.”

  I laughed so hard I choked a little, “When Danielle said to squirt ketchup on my belly I said it was too much but then I did it, and- and…” I convulsed with giggles. “Oh, my god you actually passed out. Is your head okay by the way?”

  He took my bowl of treats to punish me, “That wasn’t funny it was vile! And I didn’t pass out, I tripped backward!”

  “Infants don’t have teeth,” I died with more laughs.

  “How the bloody hell am I supposed to know that?!”

  “Where’s your spooky Halloween spirit? Didn’t England start this shit?”

  He snapped. “You put an eyeball in my coffee.”

  “You scream like a girl.”

  He sat down and I could feel him staring at me so I sat up and tried to look innocent.

  “Listen…” He began, “I care very deeply for you and my child but if you touch one of my cars again you’ll go missing.”

  I held up my pointer finger, “That wasn’t me, that was Moses. Moses webbed your car. I told him not to, but I think his dislike of you motivated that one.”

  “That costume makes me hor
ny and disturbed at the same time.” He confessed in one of his ADHD moments.

  “I’m really pregnant, Gabe. How can a guy that’s been with all those women still hit on his blimp-sized baby mama?”

  “That American term is so brash. Must we use it?”

  “Bearer of your seed.” I suggested.

  He laughed. “Mother of my child.”

  “Whatever, answer the question.”

  “Do you remember that song…the one Pitbull did called, International Love?”

  “A little.”

  He shifted on the couch and I felt his fingers brushing up the back of my neck. “It’s like that. Yes, I’m fairly global, but…” he tickled his fingers up the side and I know he knows what that does to me. “You have international love. All the women I’ve been with from all these different places, they don’t do to me, what you do.”

  “Yeah, that’s called inexperience.” I teased.

  “I like it.”

  Fuck, he’s going deep. “You’re a weirdo.”

  “I think so too. When I’m having a wank I usually think of you.”

  I bugged my eyes and shoved his shoulder but might have got his elbow. “What the fuck! You don’t just tell a girl that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s like…we’re not together so it’s strange.”

  He was eating my candy corn I think, “It’s the truth. You suck well and your tits are top-notch. I’ve had some very thrilling wank sessions thanks to you.”

  “This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had, ever.” I felt around for the bowl and took a handful.

  “Come on, you don’t think about it at all?”

  I put candy in my mouth so I didn’t have to answer.

  Once I swallowed I said, “You jerk off to a preggo.”

  “You’re beautiful, one-hundred percent my type and I’ve had you before so I know it’s all real, you’re worth it. That turns me on.”

  I couldn’t help it, I melted, “You mean that?”

  “Absolutely. In fact, if we ever give it another go, a titty fuck is my top priority-.”

  “Yeah, see, you just ruined it. Moment over.”

  “You haven’t seen your breasts. They were already nice, now they-.”

  “I get it, shut up.” I pulled the spandex of my costume up because I know it offers cleavage and I’m sitting next to a United Kingdom pervert. “Stop looking I can feel you leering.”

  “Well, I can’t help it now, all this talk has me going.”

  “Then go ‘wank’ yourself.” He laughed insanely and took my bowl back. I handed him the remotes. “Come on, put the movie on.”

  He took the remotes and set us up with our horror flick. We took turns getting up to feed the trick or treaters but then I had a pretty heavy contraction.

  I tensed on the couch but didn’t tell Gabe. I’ve had Braxton Hicks plenty of times now, but this one hurt. Not so much hurt, but it lasted longer and I felt it lower.

  “Movie bothering you?” He asked.

  I didn’t know he noticed. “No,” I held my tummy.

  “Brianna I swear if you do another twisted prank about Willow-.”

  “No,” I smirked, “I just had a contraction.”

  He instantly sounded high strung, “Do I call the doctor?”

  “Nah, if I need someone I’d rather call Jenzy. It just hurt a little-.” I stopped midsentence as another came on its heels. Now I feel a little nervous. It’s too early.

  “Talk to me,” Gabe insisted.

  “I don’t know,” I sat up more and then stood.

  “Bri,” he stood with me, “Please don’t joke.”

  “I swear I’m not. I’m having contractions.”

  I think the worry in my own tone told him I wasn’t being silly.

  “Let me call someone…”

  Another one came and I winced. “Okay…”

  He was dialing before I said it and put the phone on speaker.

  Chris was the one to pick up, “This really needs to be important.” He said. “I have a naughty Hermione upstairs.”

  I smiled a little despite my worry but Gabe didn’t crack at all, “We need your wife, Chris, Brianna is feeling something with the baby.”

  Chris dropped the funny in his voice. “Hold on, I’m getting her now,” he told us.

  By the time he got there the pains weren’t coming. Jenzy’s voice came down the line with soothing ease, “Hi, Lovely,” she said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I don’t know.” I said. Gabe came to stand at my side with the phone and I leaned into him, “The contractions aren’t coming now.”

  She made a hmm, sound, “So here’s what you do. Next time something like that happens can you have Gabe time them for me? That way I know how far apart they are. When contractions are irregular and then get further apart, it’s not labor. It’s when they get closer together and more intense.”

  I felt like a noodle. I was more afraid than I thought but Gabe kept me close and we listened to more advice from Jenzy before hanging up.

  We got settled on the couch again and he kept me basically in his lap. I think…he might’ve been scared too.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  BRIANNA

  November

  Eight months pregnant I now feel like I ate a volleyball. I look like it too. I can’t see myself but I can feel myself.

  “I think it looks great,” said Chloe.

  I drew my hand down the fabric. “It feels pretty,” I said.

  We’re in this really special boutique that is said to have the best evening gowns in maternity. I’m relying on Chloe’s judgment because she knows what I like and what I don’t.

  “He actually picked this out for you?” She asked me.

  I adjusted the sleeves, “Yeah, he got my size and stuff. I told him I didn’t know what to wear and he said he’d have a dress made that fit the occasion.”

  Chloe made a giddy sound, “He just won ten points from me.”

  I set my hands on my hips while she smoothed the shoulders, “He’s great.”

  “Bri? Is Gabe keeping his promise? Is he staying away from smokes and alcohol?”

  I shrugged, “Yeah…but I think he does it for the wrong reasons.”

  “Like?”

  “Like I think he wants to be with me. I think he just does it to prove he can.”

  Chloe bent and checked the hem length, “Is that a bad thing?”

  “He should do it for himself, for Willow even but not for me. Couples break up. What if we did get together and then broke up, he can’t suddenly drink himself mad again. He needs true incentive and sex isn’t a heavy enough anchor. Sex for Gabe is just another drug.”

  She stood again, “What should he give up the old life for then? Hmm? If not you, then what?”

  I shrugged, “I don’t know; not me, not sex. I think he needs love. He should give it up for love. He needs to love something more than that life.”

  She touched my cheek, “And what if that something is you?”

  I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it, “Moving on, describe the dress for me. I’m dying to know what I’m in. It feels like gold. It’s so comfortable but it makes me feel like a princess. What’s up with it?”

  She groaned, disagreeing with the topic change, “Alright, alright, let me look at you, I’ll come up with a killer description.” She circled me then stopped in front again. “Okay, got it!”

  “Hit me.”

  She laughed, “So the color is taupe… darker taupe at the top but the full skirts are lighter like- a beige. The fitted sleeves are long, totally sheer but there is embroidery on them. Same embroidery on the sheer overlayer of the bodice and neck. Right, where your bump is, that’s where the satin gets flowy but you’ll have to watch tripping. You can’t see and the hem is long. In truth and I tell you this not just as a friend. You look like a pregnant Goddess.”

  “You’re about to quote C. Dougherty aren’t y-.”

&
nbsp; “C. Dougherty says all women are Goddesses…” she predictably recited.

  I laughed. “Does it really look good? I’m meeting his dad and that’s a little scary.”

  “He dressed you for success. All joking aside, Bri, he put serious thought into this dress. It’s stunning.”

  “Thanks. You’re the best, you know that?”

  “Um,” she made a pop sound with her mouth, “Am I still the best if I have the cover of Stars Magazine taped to my ceiling? Gabe had that cover shoot a few weeks back, oh, my sweet lord, that man is hot.”

  I laughed, “I doubt Moses lets you pin men above your bed. The bed you share.”

  “He was in a leather jacket and a Henley shirt and he was all wet and misty- he even models. You live with a model…” she sighed, “Okay so it wasn’t over my bed but I saved the copy.”

  “Moses is equally hot.” I reminded.

  She sounded dreamy, “Moses is level demi-god hot. I’m not comparing. Did I tell you? We went to a past-life reading thingy and the lady said we’d been married before. I don’t know if I believe in all that but… it feels right.”

  “If you were married before why did it take him twenty years to realize you needed to be promoted from friend zone?” I questioned.

  “He could be reincarnated one-hundred times, he’s still Moses, and Moses is slower than dial-up internet.” She said.

  We laughed and went to the desk where they readied the dress for transportation. I pulled a gold colored card from my wallet after feeling around.

  “What is that?” Asked Chloe.

  I shook my head, “Mr. Boss Man forced me to take it. It’s apparently unlimited. He loaded it with a small fortune so I’d always have money on me. He wants me to get the shoes and accessories we picked for the dress with it.”

  “Do you use it for other stuff? Or are you ungrateful and keep it in your friggin wallet?”

  I handed it to the clerk, “This is my first time using it.”

  As we strolled out and to Chloe’s Jeep she kept me near her for guidance.

  “The fact that you need bodyguards to shop,” she whispered. “It’s still weird.”

 

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