Annihilate Me 2: Omnibus (Complete Vols. 1-3, Annihilate Me 2)

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Annihilate Me 2: Omnibus (Complete Vols. 1-3, Annihilate Me 2) Page 18

by Christina Ross


  “Then let me help.”

  I fell back on the bed and lolled around on it while he started to tug them off me. “Oh, why?” I said in an effort to keep the moment light while he continued to pull. “Why do I see this as a premonition of things to come? Before we know it, my stomach will be so big that we’ll have to do sideways sex, with my leg lifted high in the air, and you pumping into me. That should be pretty. That should be as romantic as hell.”

  “It will be romantic,” he said. “Because it will be us. Just us.”

  “And junior, wondering what the hell is going on. ‘What’s Mommy and Daddy doing? Why is Daddy trying to stab Mommy like that?’”

  “You’re too much,” he said.

  “I just want to be enough,” I said in a more serious tone. “My whole body is going to change, Alex. At a certain point, I’m not going to be attractive to you anymore. You and Blackwell are going to want to put me in the Thanksgiving Day Parade. I’m bound to be asked to be one of the balloons—if it’s even possible to hoist my ass in the air.”

  When he had finally removed my jeans, he took off his boxer shorts and then crawled on top of me. “Stop being silly,” he said. “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are to me right now. That will only continue to be true as our baby grows within you. I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me, Jennifer. To come home to this after this day. So, you know, why don’t I just show you how happy I am?”

  And he did.

  Generally, our lovemaking ran the gamut, from the rough to the experimental, such as the night he pressed me against a massive display of windows overlooking Fifth Avenue and had his way with me—where anyone could have seen us, which was part of the thrill.

  But when he started to make love to me now, he was a different man. He was gentler than he’d ever been with me. He kissed and caressed every inch of my body, he tended to my hypersensitive breasts causing me to come twice, and when he finally entered me, he did so with a long, slow stroke that made me catch my breath because, even to this day, I’d yet to adapt to his size.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and rode him like that until he lifted me onto his lap, and I rode him there.

  There was rarely a moment when his lips weren’t close to my own, either kissing them, or saying things to me that just made me fall even deeper in love with him. When he pressed his cheek against my ear and told me again that he loved me, the stubble on his face, which I’d never get over, sent shivers throughout my body, but in ways that were different than before.

  My body seemed more sensitive and responsive than ever. Already, there was a change in me that was taking place when it came to sex. I wrapped my arms around Alex’s back and pulled him closer to me, so that he was as deep inside of me as possible. At that point, we literally were one. Not just as a wedded couple, but as a wedded couple who would one day welcome a new child. The fact that we were having a child changed everything, from the way we held each other to the way he moved me about the bed with such care. It was beyond sensual.

  When I climaxed again—this time with Alex right behind me—we both let out a primal moan that seemed so base, it could have come from another time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “You’re what?” Blackwell said to me as she sank heavily into her seat.

  It was the next morning, I was at Wenn, and Blackwell and I needed to talk about a few things, the first of which I’d nailed her with the moment I walked into her office.

  “I’m pregnant. Knocked up. Full of the seed. Not quite ready to birth a baby yet, but it’s coming. Get ready, Grandma.”

  “Grandma, my ass. Nobody calls me ‘grandma.’”

  “Then what do you propose? Because Alex and I will consider him or her to be your surrogate grandchild.”

  “How dare you age me like that?”

  “We’re not aging you. We’re honoring you. So, what do you want to be called?”

  “That child can call me ‘Grandmommie Dearest.’”

  “So, you plan on being an abusive grandmother?”

  “I plan on telling that child the truth. That isn’t an ugly word. That failure is inevitable.”

  “Get real.”

  “Fine, then it’ll be Blackwell. That name demands respect. Your little lump of multiplying cells can call me Blackwell when it sucks its first breath. That will keep it in line.”

  “Oh, please.”

  She leaned back in her chair and started to writhe, as if the devil had possessed her. Her head and her arms flailed from side to side as if she were in the throes of an exorcism. I heard one of her heels strike her desk. And then another as she continued to act out in ways that only Blackwell could.

  “I can’t believe you’re telling me this,” she said. “It’s can’t be true. It isn’t true.” And at that, she sat up, and shot a finger at me. “But then it isn’t true, is it? You’re lying! Of course you are. This is just another one of your tricks because you know I won’t be able to fit you into couture. You told me that Alex and you were waiting another two years before you started your little Wenn army. Do you think I’ve forgotten that? It’s on my calendar, for God’s sake. You told me it would be two years before you had a baby. Do you seriously think that I don’t check that date weekly? I’ve been watching the fashion trends because of that date, all in an effort to hide that looming, budding baby bump of yours. This is a lie.”

  “Sorry, but it isn’t. And by the way, if I throw up on you in the next few minutes, let me just apologize for that now. Because it could happen. Apparently, I’ve been throwing up lately not just because of stress, but because of morning sickness. And—oh, look—it’s morning. And I’m feeling nauseous.”

  “Don’t you dare hurl that cradle of doom toward me.”

  “Given the way you’re reacting, I’ll aim it straight toward your eye if it happens.”

  “As if you’d dare. This is ridiculous. This calls for an intervention I never saw coming so soon. Let me go to Google,” she said.

  “Why?”

  Her fingers danced across the keyboard. “What do you mean ‘why’? Obviously, to see if anyone makes corsets that can haul in a pregnant woman’s gut. Spanx won’t do the job—but a corset would.”

  “I’m not going to have a gut. I’m going to have a growing child within me, which can’t be squeezed to fit your neurotic needs. There’s a difference.”

  “Tell Dior that! Tell Valentino! Stella! Prada! They’ll cast you away as if you no longer matter to them. They’ll turn away from you as if I haven’t worked for the past year to sell the hell out of you to them, which I have. You’re heading straight down a drainage pipe that leads down that crude, awful bargain-bin maternity wear hellhole known as Macy’s. Or Sears. Take your pick, girl, because that’s where you’re headed. Wherever you end up, they’ll wrap you in polyester covered in some sort of horrid floral print. Since your pants won’t button properly—if at all—you’ll be wearing elastic waists! God! And then there are your shoes to consider, which is a whole other issue. Your ankles will swell. You’ll have fat feet. What in the hell am I supposed to do with fat feet? Put them on Jenny Craig? And what will Bernie think? How can you break that kind man’s heart like this? How can he even begin to give you cheekbones when your face will be puffed out like a puffer fish? This is the worst. The worst! Tell me it isn’t so.”

  “Are you about finished?”

  “I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “Then cool it, because I need your support. It’s not as if I can go to my mother for support. She’s probably half in the bag by now—have you forgotten that? Do you even realize how much I need you? Alex can only do so much. You and Lisa are it.”

  “Who is Lisa? Why is the room spinning? Why do I feel an arrhythmia coming on?”

  “Because you’re being ridiculous. Come on. I need you here.”

  And with that, she brushed her bob out of her face, sat up in her chair, and looked at me with a steady gaze. “Is this true?”


  “Of course it is.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I was hoping that you’d be happy for us.”

  “Well, of course I am. But you knew that little bit of theater was coming, so you got it. When is this little Wenn person due to tip its bonnet to the masses?”

  “Eight months from now.”

  “Mere seconds!”

  I snapped my fingers at her. “Get it together. You need to accept that this is happening.”

  She placed her own fingers over her mouth. “Oddly, I think that I might get sick myself…”

  When I didn’t answer, she saw the look of frustration on my face, and backed off.

  “Oh, settle down. You came in here knowing that you’d get a show and dance from me, and you got one. I don’t give that to just anyone, you know? Look, fake histrionics aside, I’m delighted. You know I am. I would, however, prefer to be known as ‘grandmother.’ ‘Grandma’ sounds as if I got on a horse and trotted into the city from Kentucky. So, will ‘grandmother’ work for you?”

  “I think ‘grandmother’ sounds nice.”

  “What does Alex think about this mess?”

  “It’s not a mess.”

  “Fine, Maine. In your hormonal state, it’s not a mess. Where I’m coming from, the earth is shaking. So, tell me—what does he think?”

  “He’s beside himself. He wants the world to know now, but I’ve warned him against that. We need to get through the first trimester before we tell anyone.”

  “Well, at least I agree with you on that—it’s practical. In this case, anything can happen. I’m praying that it won’t, but we need to face the facts. Now stand up. Give ‘Grandmother’ a kiss and a hug. Believe it or not, she’s also beside herself with—what’s that emotion—happiness? Something like that. I barely recognize it these days. Just give me a hug and a kiss—that’s all I want. Don’t screw up the hair and the makeup.”

  I stood, and when Blackwell hugged me, it felt as if my own mother was holding me—assuming, of course, that that woman had even been a mother to me. But I could feel the genuine warmth behind Blackwell’s embrace, and when she kissed me on the cheek and said into my ear “Congratulations, my dear girl—I’m so proud of you,” I melted into her.

  “I can feel your stomach, you know?” she said when we parted.

  “Oh, you can not.”

  “It’s growing. It’s bursting. I’ve always heard about the long road, and apparently I’m about to walk it.”

  “And look at me,” I said to her. “About to puke.”

  She stepped back. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Just know that at this point, if you take things too far, I can unleash it like few others. You should see what can shoot out of me—it’s epic. So, consider yourself forewarned.”

  She sat back down and touched her throat. “How…awful.”

  “You’ve been here twice before. What I need to know is what to expect.”

  Blackwell’s face softened. “I remember when I first became pregnant with Daniella. As you can imagine, that was no easy pregnancy. It was hell for the first few months, but I worked through it. And if I know you, you’ll do the same. What I don’t want you to do is what I did. When you’re eight months out, leave work, step aside, and just rest. I didn’t. I literally went into labor right in this office. Nobody knew, of course. I just clamped my legs shut, called a cab, and got to the hospital. When Daniella came out, it was as if she was greased with bacon fat. I mean it. I think that from the time I was admitted into the hospital, that girl was out of me in ninety minutes.”

  “Another sign of your efficiency. How about Alexa?”

  “Believe it or not, as easy going as she is, she was tougher. I was in labor for a good twenty hours, probably because she was busy counting cells and considering whether my uterus was organic. Who knows with that one?”

  “Did you leave Wenn after eight months with Alexa?”

  “I didn’t, but I should have. Another regret. My water actually broke in this office with that one. People had to clean up after me. Imagine the humiliation. That’s why I want you to learn from my mistakes.”

  “Giving up work is going to be tough,” I said.

  “But you need to. Trust me on this.”

  “I want to do right by my child.”

  “Then you’ll take a temporary leave when you reach eight months. That way, you can get the baby’s room ready, and can start writing out a plan on how quickly you can lose the baby weight.”

  “I’m kind of nervous.”

  “You should be terrified. We all are when it comes to our first child. With the second one, at least you know what to expect—sheer torture.”

  “I feel so relieved right now,” I said sarcastically.

  She leaned toward me and put her elbow on the desk, with her chin firmly planted in the palm of her hand. “All right—it’s sunk in. You’re about to be a mother.”

  “I am.”

  “Look, don’t sweat it. You’ll make a terrific mother. And Alex—he’ll be the best father going. Not to mention the most supportive of husbands. It’s going to be OK, Jennifer. You’ll see. You’re about to go through one of the defining moments of your life. I’m thrilled that ‘Grandmother’ is about to witness all of it. As for clothing, we’ll figure it out. I’m not worried. Earlier, I just wanted to make you laugh. Bernie and I will make you look smashing whenever you need to look smashing. He might even have to use less bronzer, because you’re going to have that glow people go on about as if there’s a light shoved up your ass.”

  “There’s another reason I’m here,” I said.

  “If you’re about to tell me that you’re having twins, I’ll need to ask you to leave.”

  “I don’t know at this point, but I highly doubt it. It’s something else.”

  “What is it?”

  I told her about Singapore, and the plans I had for bringing the girls and Lisa with us.

  “What do you think?”

  “Those girls will ruin everything. Especially Daniella. She won’t get the significance that she’s in one of the world’s great cities. It’s just who she is. I’ve spent a fortune on her education, but let’s just say that unlike her sister, no one would consider that one a sponge when it comes to her studies. She is more boy-crazy than I can handle. You know that she has a crush on Cutter, don’t you?”

  “Over Christmas, she told me as much.”

  “Alexa will be fine. But Daniella? Daniella is going to try something with Cutter. Just you watch.”

  “He can handle her. And think of this as part of their education. We’re taking the Boeing. There will be plenty of room to relax and to sleep. I talked with Lisa this morning, and she’s way up for it, especially taking charge of the girls, which she wants to do.”

  “Is she insane? Have her zombies finally held her down and nibbled on her own brains?”

  “No, she wants to do it because she enjoys both of them. And look, all of the shops Daniella loves are in Singapore. All we need to do is give her a credit card, and let her cut loose. And I mean Wenn’s credit card—not yours.”

  “There’s no need for that, but thank you. The problem is that they are about to join their friends in the Hamptons. Nothing will tear them away from that. They always spend their summers there.”

  “We’re talking about a week—max. Why don’t you pick up the phone and see how they respond? Are they up now?”

  “They’re early birds like their mother. They’re up.”

  “Then call them.”

  Blackwell hesitated for a moment, and then she sighed and picked up the phone.

  “Put it on ‘speaker,’” I said. “I need to hear this.”

  “Then grab the waste can—you might need it.”

  The line started to ring, and Daniella answered it.

  “I told you to call me later,” she said in a weirdly girlish voice. “I enjoyed last night, too, Mark, but you can’t get me in trouble with my mother.”


  Blackwell just looked at me, and shook her head.

  “It’s not Mark, whoever the hell he is, Daniella. It’s your mother.”

  “Mom? Shit. Sorry about that.”

  “Who is Mark?”

  “Just some guy I met last night. You know, when I went out with the girls.”

  “And you’ve already give him my number?”

  “Well, I didn’t exactly want to give him mine. What if he turns out to be some kind of freak? I don’t want a freak calling me. Let him call you. And by the way, why is there an echo? And why are you calling here so early? Whenever you call early, it generally means that you’ve been struck dumb by some sort of bright idea.”

  “Jennifer and Alex have a proposition for you and Alexa.”

  “Do they want to give me a primer on how to stay besties while in a sexless marriage?”

  “Just so you know, you’re on speaker phone, and Jennifer is listening.”

  “Oh. Sorry, Jennifer—I was just kidding.”

  “Good morning, Daniella,” I said.

  “Yeah, you’re totally pissed at me right now. I can hear it in your voice. Fuck my life.”

  “Is Alexa around?” Blackwell asked. “If she is, bring her to the phone, and put it on speaker on your end. I want to talk with both of you at the same time. There will be less arguing that way.”

  “I don’t know where she is,” Daniella said. “She’s probably making a medicinal tea out of one of your houseplants. Or recycling plastic bags. Or outside on the sidewalk throwing red paint on people’s leather shoes. You know how she is.”

  “Just get her.”

  “All right. Fine. Jesus. You can be such a—”

  “Get her before I take away your credit card.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me.”

  “That credit card is my life!”

  “Then get in line before you lose it.”

  “Alexa!” I heard Daniella shout. “Mom and Jennifer are on the phone. Get your ass in here before Mom derails the credit card train.”

  “I don’t care about credit cards,” I heard Alexa say as she approached the phone. “They’ve ruined our country.”

 

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