Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3)

by KD Robichaux

  I barely had time to say, “Oh, shit,” before he pulled out onto the road behind me and turned on his lights. When I pulled over and he came up to my window, I looked up to find a super-hot romance novel cop—not the Fatty McFattersons we have in Fayetteville. And damn my uncontrollable facial expressions, my jaw must’ve literally dropped, because he smiled as he asked, “Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?”

  The sun reflecting of his perfect white teeth must’ve jerked me out of my drooling state, because the next words out of my mouth were, “I went right through that damn stop sign! I can’t believe I did that. It didn’t used to be there, and I just moved back here from North Carolina, and I was turned around yelling at her to stop scratching her eye,” I word-vomited, hitching my thumb over my shoulder at the little booger in question. He bent at the waist and looked in my window at Josalyn. “Da’gone mosquito bit her right on the eye yesterday and she won’t leave it the hell alone. And I can’t stop cussing for some reason. I’m sorry. I’m the daughter of a sailor. I can’t help it. Oh, my God, I’m going to shut up now.”

  With a smirk, he asked, “License and registration, please,” and watched as I leaned over to reach into my glove box. As I opened it, an old CVS Pharmacy bag fell out onto the floor, and the policeman held out his hand. “Can you hand me that please, ma’am?” At my questioning look, he explained, “Any visible prescription drugs in a vehicle must be checked during routine traffic stops.”

  I shrugged and handed it over. “It’s just my old birth control pills. Obviously they didn’t work,” I said with a snort, rubbing my baby bump.

  Seeming to notice for the first time that I’m pregnant, the officer smiled and asked how far along I was as I got my wallet out of my purse and handed him my new Texas Driver’s License.

  “I’m twenty-four weeks, so a little more than halfway done baking.”

  He lifted his chin at my wallet and handed me back the pills. “Is that a military ID?”

  “Yes, sir. I just moved here from Ft. Bragg. I was born and raised there,” I replied.

  “Good ol’ Fayettenam. I was at Cherry Point at the Marine base. We used to go to Ft. Bragg for training all the time,” he said almost excitedly.

  “You’re a Marine? My boyfriend’s best friend is a Marine. He’s at Camp Pendleton though. Do you know Logan Cachete?” I asked eagerly.

  “Name doesn’t ring a bell. Did he go to school here?” At my nod, he asked, “What year did he graduate?”

  “Hmmm, I think he’s a year older than me, so 2001 maybe?” I shrugged.

  “Ah, a few years younger than me then. Well, I’m gonna go run your stuff. Sit tight,” he told me, and when he walked back to his cruiser, I turned to look at Josalyn.

  “You little stinker. You made Mommy get in trouble,” I whispered, but then smiled to let her know I wasn’t mad at her. “No more messing with your eye, little girl.”

  “It’s itchy,” she complained in her sweet little voice, using the back of her fist to rub at it this time, instead of her fingernails.

  “As soon as the nice policeman comes back, we can go get you some medicine for it, and it’ll feel a lot better. But no more scratching. You don’t want to leave a scar on your pretty face.”

  A few moments later, the officer came back to my window and handed me my cards. “I’m going to let you off with a warning this time, but please be aware of the traffic signs. We recently had a change in speed limit down the road too, so careful down that way. Congrats on the baby, ma’am. And welcome back to Texas.”

  “Thank you so much. Have a good day,” I breathed, relieved I was not getting my first ticket. And we went on our merry way, my hands strictly at ten and two.

  The End

  May:

  My summer mini semester started, and trying to stay on schedule to graduate in December, I took on three classes: Computer Presentations, which focused on Microsoft PowerPoint, and had to actually go to the school for it. It was strange sitting in a classroom after all these years, but it was pretty fun. Yes, I was one of the oldest students in the class, besides the middle-aged woman who had decided to go back to school after her kids finally went off to college themselves, but I liked interacting with all the new people, since I didn’t have any friends in Texas, yet again. (Let’s do the time-warp agaaaaaain…) The other two classes were online, and were pretty damn hard, but luckily Jason had just taken the Excel class himself and could help me with it, and I eventually got the hang of Access. By the end of all this, I’ll be a Microsoft Master!

  Barbara, being the forward-thinking woman she is, signed us up to go speak to a couple’s counselor. She said they might give us some helpful advice on transitioning from our long-distance relationship, to all of a sudden being an insta-family. Mostly, I think she wanted to make sure her son wouldn’t be overwhelmed by all the changes, so I just went along with it. And I’m actually glad I did.

  The counselor, learning Josalyn called Jason by his name, told us it would be much better if she called him Dad, Daddy, or whatever he decided to be called, because children view those names as words of authority. By using his first name, he was telling her that she was on the same level as he is, an equal instead of father figure and daughter. It had made him uncomfortable when I had previously brought up the idea of her calling him Dad, because he didn’t want to take anything away from Aiden. But after the counselor pointed out how Jason had been in her life, teaching her the things a father should be teaching her, not Aiden, I could see the pride building in his eyes.

  When we got home that evening, when Josalyn ran to him yelling, “Jason!” and he picked her up, he gave her a squeeze then leaned her back to look her in the face, and told her, “How about, instead of Jason, you call me Daddy, big girl?”

  She tilted her head to the side and grinned, and like it was no big deal, shrugged and said, “Okay, Daddy. Can I have some juice?” And that was the end of that.

  June and July were pretty low key. OH! I’m totally lying. June is when we finally got to get the ultrasound of our little nugget! My Medicaid got approved back in May and I went to my first doctor appointment for this pregnancy at twenty-five weeks. It was well past the time to get an ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby, so they set me up with an appointment pretty quickly.

  Jason and I sat in the waiting room with Josalyn for about an hour, anxious for our turn, playfully bantering about whether our kid would be a boy or girl. Mom had gotten in my head that it was a boy, but at the same time, I felt like it was a girl while Jason thought for sure that it was a boy. Josalyn started getting antsy, so Jason stood up to let her hold his hands, walk up the front of his legs, and then flip over. After a few times, she let go of his hand too soon and dropped right on her head, and my pregnant ass hopped up with a squawk, freaking out while Jason laughed. The way he’d been holding her, she couldn’t have been more than a foot off the ground, and realizing she not only wasn’t crying, but she was reaching up for another flip, I decided not to stab him for dropping my baby… on her head no less. He even made me laugh by telling her, “When you’re older, and you ain’t acting right, we’ll remember this moment, and you can blame Daddy by saying he dropped you on your head as a baby.” Then he looked at me and said, “At least if she’d gotten hurt we’re already at the hospital.” I smacked him on the chest for that one.

  When the ultrasound technician called us back, Josalyn sat wiggling on Jason’s lap while I lay down and lifted my shirt over my growing bump. The tech tucked a paper gown into my waistband to keep the clear gel off my pants, and immediately started taking screenshots of the baby. She made her measurements and told me our little nugget was right on target, and then asked if we wanted to know the sex. We yelled, “Yes!” at the same time, making her laugh, and she set to work trying to find a good angle with the wand to see the baby’s private area.

  “Come on, little one. Show us your goodies,” she said quietly, but the baby wasn’t having it, keeping its legs locked
firmly together. After a few moments, the tech told us, “Let’s try one last thing. Mom, roll over on your side. We’ll see what this little rascal does when you flip ‘em over.”

  She helped me roll onto my right hip, facing her, and then placed the wand back to my belly. The next thing we saw, it’s like the baby said “Tada!” spread its legs, and pushed its ass right up to the screen for the whole world to see.

  “Congratulations, guys. Another beautiful baby girl!”

  I turned to look at Jason, and I couldn’t decipher the look on his face. But then he breathed, “Daddy’s girls,” looking down at Josalyn and then up at the screen, and my heart melted at the smile that spread across his face.

  We’ve decided on the name Avary. My mom’s name is Ava, which is Josalyn’s middle name, but it’s gotten so popular lately so we chose to change it up a little, but keeping it spelled with the second ‘a’ instead of ‘e’ like the usual way. Her middle name is going to be Dorothy, Granny’s first name, and my middle name. It was actually going to be Avary Dorothy Carol, after Jason’s mom’s middle name, but she said not to burden the poor kid with four names, but that the thought was very sweet.

  Which brings us to this month. We had our baby shower over at Mom’s best friend’s house, who Jason called Aunt Pat, and since we’d had so much fun at Buffy’s, including the men, we decided to make it for everyone too. I learned a very important lesson about being a Texan that day. Under strict orders to do absolutely nothing, I sat on a stool at the kitchen counter munching on fresh broccoli dipped in ranch dressing while everyone set everything up around me. After Jason got all the sodas in from the car, he said, “Okay, I’m gonna go make the beer and wine run. Any requests?” looking at his mom.

  “Wait, this is a baby shower,” I scoffed, looking at him questioningly.

  “Yeah… and?” he prompted.

  “It’s a freakin’ baby shower. What do you need alcohol for?”

  “Much to learn you have, beautiful. This is Texas. Anything involving two or more people is a call for alcohol. That’s not to say everyone gets hammered drunk, but it’s just a social thing. We hang out, have a couple beers, and have a good time,” he explained, and then leaned down to kiss me on my lips before heading out the door with a, “Be right back.”

  “Two or more people?” Aunt Pat’s husband huffed beside me on his stool. “Shit, sometimes ya don’t even need that many!” He cackled, making me burst out laughing.

  He smelled strongly of cigar smoke. The scent wasn’t unpleasant, even to my sensitive pregnant nose. He must smoke the same kind my Uncle Dan used to enjoy, which filled my nose when I’d give him a big hug. I grew up with him coming to visit Mom and Granny every morning. He lives on the other side of our lake, so he’d make his morning walk over the dam for a glass of sweet tea. Eventually, he got himself a golf cart, which he uses to help haul the stuff he picks out of his garden.

  I got everything I wanted for the baby shower, including the Moby wrap Buffy uses with Abigail. I never knew about them when Josalyn was a baby, so I always just hauled her around in her car seat. But a few weeks ago, when I’d gone to visit them up in Kingwood, Buffy showed me how to wrap it around myself and put the baby in it, freeing my hands to do whatever I needed to. Abigail is big enough now that Buffy wraps her up and puts her on her back, and she gets all of her housework and stuff done with no problem.

  Jason’s cousin, Chad, the hot one from Beaumont who gives me anxiety, asked Jason when he was going to ‘wife me up’. I told him he wasn’t allowed to ask me to marry him until we’ve been together for two years. He thought that was hilarious. I told him I also didn’t want to get married anytime soon, because people would think we were getting hitched just because of the baby.

  Logan was home on leave last week. We couldn’t go out partying, obviously, so he very sweetly chose somewhere we could all go and have a good time, instead of me having to stay home. We went to Cork Wine Bar, since my doctor said it was perfectly fine for me to have one glass of wine. I wore a cute red sundress I had found at a baby and maternity thrift store, the Texas heat carrying through long after the sun had gone down.

  As usual, the moment we sat outside on the patio at one of the bistro tables and I got comfortable, Avary started doing her aerobics inside my belly. I’m so little, and all baby, that she can literally move my whole body when she gets to dancing around.

  Seeing the uncomfortable look on my face, Logan asked if I was okay, probably worried I was going into labor. When I told him Avary was doing her nightly jiujutsu, he asked Jason first if he could feel her kicking. With an “Of course!” from his best friend, Logan then turned his questioning look to me. In response, I grabbed his massive mitt of a hand and laid it on the side of my stomach, where I felt her kicking the hardest moments before. I pressed my palm to the back of his hand, letting him know to push in a little, and Avary immediately gave him a high-five… with which body part of hers, I have no idea.

  The big Marine jumped in his seat but didn’t remove his hand for several more kicks, breathing, “That’s crazy!” his bright blue eyes wide with amazement.

  “Yep, that’s why when they tell me there’s a baby in there, I tend to believe them,” I joked, smiling at the gentle giant’s awe-filled face.

  He let us know that night he was getting deployed again, this time to Afghanistan instead of Iraq. And as Jason and Logan bantered and reminisced, I rubbed my belly and said a silent prayer that Avary’s ‘Uncle Logie’, as Josalyn calls him, would make it home safe to meet her.

  So now we’re just waiting on little Avary to arrive. My fall semester starts the same week as her due date. I’ve already signed up for my classes, so we’ll see how it goes. I have to take two electives, my Microsoft Word class, a class on filing, and lastly, a business letter writing course, and then I will finally be done!

  I feel uncomfortably big, and I’m ready to serve this baby her eviction notice. I’m having trouble sleeping at night.

  OH! That reminds me. Funny story.

  I had insomnia one night, and Jason was just a’snoring away beside me. Sex while pregnant has been great. I never had it when I was pregnant with Josalyn, so I had no idea how amazing it felt. And I never slept better than after Jason made love to me. He wasn’t one of those men who worried about poking the baby. He always makes me feel like a goddess, taking the time to kiss me all over, removing any of the fear I have that he doesn’t find me sexy when I feel like a stuffed cow.

  Anyway, on this night, I was tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable, even with my giant body pillow, so I rolled over and started stroking my fingers up and down his chest. He seemed to wake up, and asked, “What is it, baby?” in his sexy, sleep-filled voice.

  “I can’t sleep,” I answered in as sultry a tone as I could muster, hoping he’d get the hint as I trailed my fingers down to his boxer brief-covered dick.

  But instead of coming more fully awake and giving in to a little midnight nookie, he sighed and said, “That sucks. Sorry, babe,” rolled over, and started snoring again. After frowning and staring daggers into the back of his head, I decided to read for a while until I finally passed out. When I told him about it the next day, he laughed his ass off, because he didn’t remember it at all. And then he proceeded to make up for it.

  I slept fantastic that night.

  August 21, 2009 2:16 a.m.

  I wake up, a weird feeling coming over my whole body. A chill runs up my neck, and I have the thought, Maybe that fire sauce at Taco Bell before bed was a bad idea, and I struggle to sit up so I can go to the bathroom. After what comes out of me, I go back to bed having no doubt that’s what was wrong, and I fall back to sleep.

  I couldn’t have been unconscious for more than twenty minutes before I wake up with the weird feeling again, but this time, my stomach isn’t upset. Soon, the feeling dissipates, but I don’t have time to fall back to sleep again before the discomfort returns.

  “Jason,” I whisper, nudging h
im with my elbow.

  “Yeah, baby?” he sighs, and I can tell he’s answering me in his sleep.

  “Jason, wake up. I need you to time this.” I rub my hand across his face, and when he still tries to ignore me, I pinch his nose closed until he finally gasps through his mouth, startling fully awake. I pull my lips between my teeth and try not to giggle as he sits up and looks around as if looking for the person who was trying to smother him in his sleep.

  “I need you to time this,” I repeat, and he turns and looks down at me. “I think I might be having contractions, but I’m not sure. It doesn’t feel like it did with Josalyn.”

  “Really?” he breathes, his eyes widening. “Okay, baby.” He grabs his phone and looks at the time. “Let me know when you feel it again. Here, roll over and I’ll scratch your back. Grab the remote and find us a show.”

  I do as he says, appreciative of his idea to distract me. A rerun of Supernatural is on, so we watch it for a few minutes before the feeling comes back, this time a little stronger than the last. Another one comes not too long after, and glancing at his cell, he tells me they were twelve minutes apart.

  “I think I’m in labor,” I say with a smile, rolling over to look up at him.

  “Are you sure? I imagined… I thought it’d be a lot worse than this. You don’t seem to be hurting.” His brow furrows.