“No, I’m fine. I think I’ll just have some cereal and then we can go.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m positive. HoneyDate is still on. Besides, Sophea cleared her whole day for us. It would be pretty shitty to cancel last minute. If I feel pukey, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, one thing though. If you are pregnant—”
“I shouldn’t get a tattoo.”
“You shouldn’t get a tattoo.”
“Let me eat and then we’ll stop at CVS on the way.” I was gonna pee on a stick.
✶
Sophea earned herself some major sisterhood points. As soon as we got to the tattoo parlor I explained to her what happened. She totally understood and told me not to worry, then pointed me toward the bathroom. She’d tattoo me whenever I was ready. Apparently I was the fifth person to take a pregnancy test in that shop, that she knew of.
The first test didn't even give me time to think. I set the timer on my phone, but the little display flashed PREGNANT after like ten seconds. I used the other test and got the same result just as fast. Yeah, false positives and all that shit, but I highly doubted it. I buried the tests under a few paper towels in the trash, then headed back out to the lobby. Music was blasting from the back of the shop where I imagined Sophea was getting set up.
Michael was waiting on the bench, head hanging down, deep in thought. I almost didn't want to tell him, like I might ruin his day if it was true. Or ruin his life. He looked up as I came closer. His expression was completely unreadable.
"Well?"
"Yup." I clapped my hands together then rubbed my thighs. "Looks like no tattoo for me."
He held his hand out for me and then pulled me down on the bench beside him. "You okay?"
"Honestly I don't know. I think you're gonna have to do the processing for us both."
"Well let's look at this in parts. First part, we go see the doctor on Monday."
"And the next part?"
"That's up to you."
It took me a second to get what he was getting at. I sighed and slumped against him. "No, this is definitely happening."
"If you're not ready now or ever, I understand." We'd talked about kids. Planned kids. For exactly three years from now. But now was happening. There was no matter of wanting or planning anymore. It was game time.
"I'm ready," I said, which I was. "Just really surprised." Which I really fucking was.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Of course." I slid my hand down his thigh and wiggled his knee. "Tell me."
"I've been processing a little for myself since this morning."
"And?"
"I'm excited."
"You are?"
He just nodded. Sometimes it was really easy for me to forget that Michael had done a lot of living before he met me. We came together at the perfect moment in both our lives, but I wasn't dealing with some stupid teen boy who thought the pull out method was foolproof. This was Michael, my husband, and my husband always meant what he said. I wasn't sure I could breathe and I was not looking forward to puking again. And the however many times after that, but I did want this baby and I wanted it with him. Knowing that he was excited? That was exactly what I needed to hear.
Sophea found us tangled up in an emotional mess. Somehow I'd ended up on Michael's lap, weeping tears of happiness and utter terror into his hair.
"So we going for one or two today?" she asked with a sheepish smile.
“One,” I said, making a half-ass attempt at wiping my face. I forced myself to dismount so Michael and Sophea could get to work. He took my hand and we followed her to a large, but closed-off area in the back. There was techno-y hip hop playing. I took a seat in an armchair Sophea had pulled in for me and listened while they made small talk as Michael took off his shirt and got the left side of his chest shaved. Apparently the two of them had been working on the design for months, a massive piece done in stippling style of a heart, an array of flowers and my name appearing in the negative space. Below the second A, she'd added a lip print. I stood over Michael's bare chest after Sophea invited me to come take a look. Something caught my eye.
"Are those my lips?" I asked him. "They look bigger than your standard."
"They are," he said.
"Um how did you manage that? Did Holger dust the glasses for a viable print?"
"I'm sure he would have pulled something we could've worked with, but no. Daniella did me a solid."
I stared at him for a long moment as this doofy smile fought against the weight of that stupid, sexy mustache. And then I remembered. The smile won when I gasped. Like four months before, Daniella had brought in a ton of lipstick samples Duke had sent her to see which she liked best 'cause some designer offered to hook up every woman in his life with free shit. Anyway, we wasted a good hour in the office giggling and kissing different pieces of paper because we're twelve and had no business running our own company and being in charge of things. I figured all the papers had ended up in the trash.
"You and Daniella stop conspiring to be cute behind my back."
"We'll try, but no promises."
Sophea let us know she was ready and I figured maybe she didn't need me standing over her the whole time she worked. Michael had been forward thinking enough to remind me to bring my tablet, but once I saw the design, even though it took hours, it was hard to look away. I did look away for a moment though to give Daniella a piece of my mind.
You stole my lip print? Do you steal used condoms too? I texted her. She answered right away.
Is he getting the tattoo???? There were sixteen smiley faces in a row and then a And that is disgusting. with a laughing smiley face.
He is. You traitor. Stop being such a good friend. By the way I'm pregnant.
And then I turned off my phone, just to give her a taste of what suspense is really like. I shoved my phone in my bag and watched Sophea work her magic.
✶
Aside from our couple tattoo sesh turning into a solo inking, HoneyDate 1 of 52 went off with only a few hiccups. I only had to sprint to the bathroom twice, but at least I made it to the bathroom. The shop manager ran out and got me some mint tea and biscotti to nibble on and that actually seemed to help. But even though I felt like garbage, I couldn't have asked for a better day. Watching Michael get tattooed, like a big ass fucking tattoo of my name—and my lips—was so damn romantic. The fact that he was looking at me nearly the whole time, like he loved me a whole hell of a lot wasn't helping things. We were going to have a baby. Together. I was terrified but I couldn't be happier. I only cried three times before Sophea declared she was done. Dinner and a movie turned into me trying to keep down broth as we watched an advance copy of the upcoming DC movie in the screening room with the puppies snoozing beside us.
Holger, that ass, intuited that something was up and filled the fridge with stuff the Internet told him would be good to combat morning sickness.
We spent the rest of the weekend in. Responded to Daniella’s eighty texts and ten calls.
Michael and I talked a lot. I cried a lot, mostly happy tears, but I seriously could not stop. I was happy. Michael was happy. He wouldn't stop touching my stomach, which made me happier ’cause it was so stinking cute. Daniella was happy. Holger was suddenly over attentive and frazzled and that made me even happier. I knew our families would be happy as soon as we told them. I told Michael we would as soon as I saw my doctor. And I wasn’t going into the office again until we did. I didn't want to face the girls again until I had proof. And pictures.
✶
There is something so, so awful about doctors' offices. It didn’t matter what you were there for, it always feels like it's going to be bad news. Dr. Zelner was too perky for my liking. Mostly because I felt like shit wrapped in garbage and Michael has spent nearly the whole ride to the hospital making horrible jokes in his horrible Scottish accent because he knew I secretly loved it, but I could pretend he was annoying me so I'd have another reason t
o be so fucking cranky.
I did my best not to fidget too much as Dr. Zelner explained that I was indeed pregnant and it was time to have a look. I stared at the ceiling as the nurse, who was very sweet and could tell I wanted to get the fuck out of there, prepped my belly for the show and tell. Then Michael muttered a frightening "Oh shit."
"What!? Don't do that. What?" I said as I looked at the monitor. And then I saw what he saw, but I wasn't ready to believe it. There was no fucking way.
"It looks like..." The nurse prodded some more. "Yeah, it looks like twins. There is baby number one and baby number two." She pointed to the screen and then smiled at me. At least I think she did. I had entered an alternate dimension where sights and sounds and maybe even colors didn't exist. The color had definitely drained out of Michael's face. He managed to stay upright. It was a good thing I was already lying down.
The nurse did some stuff, printed something, then left us with her congratulations and the cheerful Doctor.
"Any twins in the family?" he asked gleefully. I wanted to kill him suddenly and Michael too. And maybe my mom and my grandmother.
"Yeah," I squeaked out. I cleared the rage out of my throat and tried to answer again. "Yes. My mom is a twin and my little sisters are twins. They are identical too." A complete accident. But this? Maybe a coincidence, but I doubted it. This ran in the family.
"Well it looks like you're about ten weeks along."
"Ten?"
"What?!"
Michael and I said at the same time. I looked at him and then let my head flop back on that horrible hospital table paper.
"Game seven," I muttered. Michael just nodded. He knew. The Flames had already been knocked out of the tournament but we'd flown to Sacramento for the final, gotten super fucked up and had the wildest drunken sex in our hotel room.
"You said the morning sickness just started?”
“Yeah on Friday night.”
“I’d expect a little sooner if it was coming at all, but every pregnancy is different. Everything looks fine. I'm going to want to see you pretty frequently. Twins are nothing to worry about, but since your body is working double time we'll want to keep an eye on things."
"Oh, um," Michael sort of stammered and then he cleared his throat. "We might need a referral."
"Oh god, yeah. We winter in Miami,” I said, rolling my eyes.
"I'm not surprised. I follow the league. I'm a fan." My eyes narrowed as he looked between Michael and I, pearly whites gleaming. Our Dr. Zelner was actually fanboying over Michael. I didn't even bother to fix my face when he looked back at me. "We'll get you a great referral. You'll probably deliver there before the season's over."
Still fanboying. He said some other stuff about my weight and the possibility of babies forcing me to lose a few pounds as I went along, but I had already checked out. I knew I was the patient, but I was glad Michael was there to be properly polite as we made our way out with first snapshots and a DVD of our babies.
"I didn't know your mom was a twin," Michael said as we pulled out of the parking lot.
"She is. Fraternal. You met my uncle Calvin at the wedding."
"Oh.”
“And my grandma and her sister. And my great grandma. Oh my god."
"Baby, it's okay."
"You can lie to yourself right now. Not me, okay? I was almost ten when my mom was pregnant with Kaleigh and Kiara. I remember everything. It was not pleasant."
"It's gonna b—" he stopped himself when I glared at him like I was completely prepared to deal with the repercussions of pushing him out of the car into oncoming traffic.
I pulled the pictures out and took a picture of the clearest one. There were definitely two babies.
I typed I am so pissed at you and grandma right now. And then remembered my mom might actually come through the phone if I spoke to her that way. I tried again.
I know you miss Kaleigh and Kiara—sophomore year of college had just started for them—But it’s grandma time.
I sent that text to my mom along with the picture. Even though she was at work at the bank, she called me right back.
"You're pregnant?!" She practically screamed when I said hello.
"Yeah," I said. And then I grabbed the bag Michael had been smart enough to bring along with us, and threw up.
Five
Telling my mom I was pregnant was like activating a sleeper agent. I thought she was excited to plan her first wedding, but grandkids? She was fucking ret tuh go. I convinced her that we could save this conversation for later that night, when I wasn't retching in the car and when she wasn't on the clock. But the second she got home from work, she blew up my phone. She had fifty thousands questions, all of which I had to answer because I knew she'd go into full nagging mode and start drilling Michael for details or worse, she'd fly out. I confirmed that yes, indeed we were having twins, that I was ten weeks along and yes, I'd been barfing more than I'd appreciate. She was ready though, tips and home remedies out the ass.
I was listening, taking mental notes, but there was something in my mom's tone that I couldn't ignore. The initial excitement was gone, replaced by genuine curiosity and concern. She was always in mom mode, but sometime after Michael and I announced our engagement she really started treating me like my own person, like she'd finally acknowledged my receipt of my grown woman pants.
She'd be on one of her slightly instructive overprotective tears and then something would shift and she'd ask me about Michael's mom or what plans we had for Easter like she was asking me woman to woman. She'd stopped worrying about the age gap between me and Michael, accepted that he had a different kind of common sense because his money hadn't been given to him at birth. He'd worked for it. She was always worried that one of his older, rich white associates would say something sideways to me, but at some point she'd given in to actually trusting us as a unit, and now as a married couple.
For me, there was knowing I was pregnant and then there's understanding that I was really going to be a parent. In that moment, my own mother was talking to me mom to mom and I felt it. Another shift.
"The doctor said everything is fine, but he wants me to keep my weight up."
"Oh yeah. I had the same problem. All I could keep down was mashed potatoes from KFC and I started wasting away. But it was fine. Just get plenty of rest. Don't do too much running around."
“I just wasn’t expecting this, I guess,” I told her. “I’m still kind of in wedding mode.”
“Yeah, but these things happen. You can still enjoy being a new bride and a new mom. Double the joy,” she said. We talked some more. She had a few more tips about the joint pain and other fun, gross chronic stuff I had to look forward to, but she seemed satisfied with the current situation. She was ready to grandma.
I almost succeeded in getting her off the phone, but then my dad came home and had his own round of questions. Then he wanted to speak to Michael who had regained function of his facial features but was still an interesting shade of white.
My dad must have said some funny dude to dude thing 'cause Michael laughed and suddenly seemed like he'd been snapped out of the trance. They talked a few minutes more. Michael paced the whole time, alternating between rubbing the back of his head and lightly touching his healing tattoo through his shirt. Lots of "Yeahs," and there was an "I get it" and a "No, we haven't gotten to that point yet."
"You still think it's gonna be fine?" I asked when they hung up. I knew I was being an asshole, but I couldn't help it. So many emotions. He glared at me a brief second then came to join me on the couch. I glared back at him when he gently started playing with my fingers.
"I know things are going to be fine. You have me. You have both our families and Daniella and Holger and Vera. Ruben and the girls. These babies already have a whole team behind them."
"Yeah, there's that."
"And even though we wanted to wait a little while, I think we'll be able to provide for them. I have a little money saved up and even though thi
ngs might be a little tight, we can turn one of the eight rooms we have here and at the Miami house into a nursery. There might even be room in one of the backyards for a swing set. If we really pull the purse strings tight maybe we'll be able to afford to get them bikes one day."
"Shut up."
He leaned forward and kissed my cheeks. "That's what I mean when I say it's gonna be fine. I'm gonna make sure you have everything you need and then I'm going to spoil the shit out of them. Let me and the whole gang take care of you and you just worry about yourself and the precious cargo."
"You're not even just lowkey excited, are you? You’re terrified, yet you are pumped."
"Yeah. Your dad said I have the easy job. I get to have all the fun. He said it’s even better if we have girls. I'll always get to good cop."
"Yes. These are things I've considered. Let's get through the first trimester and then we can talk about how much our unborn children are going to hate me by default."
"Ohhh come here. I didn't mean it like that." I let him hug me and kiss all on me, but still. "How are you doing? Tell me," he said. He shifted so he could cuddle me properly without my whole back pressing against his fresh ink.
"I'm feeling like—lost. I feel lost. Like I'm having an out of body experience. Like definitely pregnant. Definitely feeling that, but also feeling like I should have known and kind of like an idiot because I was exhausted as shit our whole honeymoon and I chalked it up to jetlag. But also...maybe like I shouldn't be beating myself up about it?"
"You definitely shouldn't."
I turned and faced him. "Let's have sex tonight."
"We can do that if you're feeling up to it." I leaned into his palm as he brushed my hair away from my cheek.
"I can't decide if I'm mad at you and your stupid sperm or if I'm just anxious for the obvious reasons. But you're touching me right now and having a conference between my crotch and your dick and balls is all I can think of."
"I will be sure to rise to the occasion."
SO FOR REAL: A Sugar Baby Novella Page 5