by Kelsie Rae
I wait anxiously, praying my Little Man will throw Luke a bone.
No movement.
He waits another minute and still doesn’t feel anything.
After a little while longer, Luke starts to remove his hand from my belly. He looks at me, trying to hide his disappointment, and shrugs. “I guess he doesn’t like me,” he jokes, the right side of his mouth tilting up a little.
I give him a small smile before lifting my shirt and grabbing his calloused palm again. I place it on my bare stomach and nod encouragingly. His hand practically covers my whole core. “Keep trying, Luke. I never knew you were a quitter,” I tease, a smirk gracing my lips.
Luke laughs before scooting closer to my tummy. “Hear that Little Man? Your mom thinks I’m giving up on you. Little does she know, I’ve only given up one thing in my entire life, and it’s the biggest regret I’ve ever had.” His voice starts getting quieter, like he’s sharing a secret with my belly button. “And I’m not going to make that same mistake again.” His brilliant green eyes peek up at me, before he focuses on my stomach again.
I feel myself practically begging my unborn child to move. A nudge. A kick. A flutter. Anything. “Come on, buddy,” I whisper under my breath, my eyes zeroing in on Luke’s calloused palm.
After a moment, right when I’m about to tell Luke to try again later, I feel it. A tiny flutter on my right side.
Luke’s face lights up as he stares at my stomach in awe.
“Did you feel that?” he practically yells excitedly.
The baby kicks again, right on his index finger.
“He did it again!” he shouts triumphantly. He places his other hand on my belly so that both hands are fully covering my round stomach while the little guy goes to town twisting and turning as if dancing to music only he can hear.
The grin on Luke’s face is the biggest I’ve ever seen. It’s so contagious that my own cheeks start to hurt from smiling so hard.
It lasts for a few minutes as Luke laughs repeatedly from excitement. When Little Man starts to calm down, Luke leans forward and kisses my bare stomach softly. “Thank you, Little Man,” he whispers, sincerely. “Thank you so much.”
Luke
A little boy that isn’t mine just stole my heart. Sounds cheesy, I know. I haven’t met him yet, not formally anyway. But with each tiny movement I feel, with each time I listen to his little heartbeat thumping away, I fall a little bit more.
I’m not trying to replace Adam this time. I’m not stupid enough to think I could ever fill those shoes. But I can love him anyway.
I can be Uncle Luke, or something.
All I know is that this kid is stuck with me, whether he likes it or not.
And I can’t wait.
Chapter Twelve
Liv
Luke decides to stay home for Thanksgiving instead of heading to Utah to see his family. He’ll be visiting them during Christmas and doesn’t want to travel twice. Luke invited me to tag along in December, but I haven’t decided if I’ll join him or not. I know his family well and would love to see them, but it’s a little too close to my mother-in-law, Susan.
I still haven’t told her about the baby. I know I should, and I will. I think. I just haven’t worked up the courage to confront her yet. Adam was an only child, which means this baby will be Susan’s only grandchild, her only living family. Except me, but I don’t count. I’m not sure how much input I want her to have in Little Man’s life, or if I want her involved at all. But now I’m almost seven months pregnant, so time is definitely running out.
We spend a quiet day at the condo for Thanksgiving. We order Chinese instead of cooking and watch the Turkey Bowl. I make two different pies, and we decide to eat straight from the tins on the couch. I like balancing the pie on my swollen belly. It makes for a pretty good table. Luke keeps stealing bites of my chocolate pie while I threaten to stab him with my fork.
I can’t remember a more perfect Thanksgiving.
With Adam, our holidays were always spent with his mother since I didn’t have any family of my own. Susan would never let us hear the end of it if we didn’t show up perfectly primped and polished for each and every holiday.
I never really recognized how much it bothered me until I sat on a worn leather couch, pie-faced, in my pajamas, surrounded by styrofoam containers, laughing with Luke.
Yup.
Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.
Chapter Thirteen
Liv
We’re watching The Princess Bride on the couch while eating mint chocolate chip ice cream straight from the carton, passing the pint back and forth. It had been a long day at the office, and I was grateful for some downtime. My back is killing me.
“I have bad news,” Luke says, while running his warm hand gently over my bare stomach. This has become a nightly ritual for us as Luke tries to bond with Little Man. Apparently, he read it in a book somewhere.
Or maybe it was the fruit app.
“What’s the bad news?”
“I think I found your first stretch mark,” he teases, lightly tracing his calloused finger on my lower belly above my left thigh.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I screech, trying to lift my belly and bend forward simultaneously in order to see the blasted line. I feel like I’m attempting an impossible position from the Kama Sutra.
“Apparently the coconut butter was a bust,” Luke teases.
I had been religiously putting it on twice a day after reading online that it prevented stretch marks.
“Dammit!” I yell, finally finding the proper angle and seeing the bane of my existence.
Luke laughs at my overreaction. “Pretty sure stretch marks come along with the territory, Liv,” he teases.
I scowl in his direction. Steam may or may not be coming out of my ears.
“I haven’t felt sexy in seven freaking months! I look like I swallowed a watermelon. I can’t see my toes. I can’t bend over to shave my legs. I’ve got a giant pimple on my nose. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it. It’s like a third eye!” I growl. “They never tell you about the freaking pimples! They only talk about the pregnancy glow! Where’s my glow? I want my freaking glow! And now, I see this giant purple line covering half my freaking stomach!” I yell.
Maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit. Okay, I’m definitely exaggerating. I also know I’m rambling. Yup. Definitely rambling. I just don’t think Luke understands the gravity of that stupid stretch mark! It’s like the straw that broke the freaking camel’s back!
And have I mentioned those damn pregnancy hormones?
“Liv,” Luke says, sternly. I ignore him, fuming.
“Liv!” he tries again, gaining my attention.
“What?” I growl.
“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Hands down. You didn’t swallow a watermelon. You have a tiny human being growing inside you. You can’t see your toes? I can! They’re cute, and tiny, and perfect. I can even paint your damn nails if you need me to. You can’t shave your legs? Where’s your razor? I’ll do that, too. You have a pimple?” He lifts my chin towards him. “I saw you when you were sixteen years old. They went away then, and they’ll go away in two months.” He leans forward, making sure he has my full attention. “You want your glow? You damn, naïve, woman!” he yells, exasperated. “You’ve had that glow every single day of your life. You might not see it, but I do. And it makes you more beautiful than any other woman out there.” He punctuates the last words by pointing toward the window.
I feel my eyes start to water and my cheeks flushing as he continues. “And this little stretch mark?” His finger lightly grazes the line. “It’s the most beautiful reminder I will ever have of the miracle you created. I might not be this little boy’s dad, but I will love him every single day of my life. And that means that I will love this little line, and any others you get in the next two months, more than you will ever know.”
He’s breathing heavy from his confession, his forest-green eyes
so heated I feel them burning into me, tattooing his words onto my soul. I try to swallow the lump in my throat from his honesty. The silence is so heavy in the room I’m afraid I might suffocate, but I can’t seem to break it.
He’s been trying to tell me for months, but I think this is the first time that the truth has finally sunk in, and it hits me like a ton of bricks.
Luke isn’t going anywhere. I’m not alone. Luke loves my Little Man. And I think he might even love me a little bit, too. As a friend, obviously.
He continues to hold my gaze, waiting for me to say something.
The problem is I’m not sure what I should say after a confession like that, so I simply stare at his hand resting on my swollen stomach, and whisper so quietly I’m almost shocked he hears me, “The nail polish is under the sink.”
Luke laughs, his head tilted toward The Princess Bride still playing on the screen. He shakes his head, his green eyes twinkling as they hold my gaze once more. “As you wish.”
Luke
After my little confession, Liv and I did what we always do. We swept it under the rug and pretended it never happened.
I had always been grateful for it in the past, but I’m getting tired of pretending. I did it for two years in high school, three years when we were apart, and six months with her living under my roof.
If I have to hold anything else in, I might explode.
It felt good to express myself last night. It felt good to laugh with her afterwards as I painted her toes a cheerful sunshine color (her words, not mine). It felt good as we watched Westley fight Prince Humperdinck, her legs in my lap.
Everything about her feels good.
Chapter Fourteen
Liv
Dr. Fellows was a little hesitant to allow me to travel to Luke’s parents’ house for Christmas. My due date is only five weeks away, but we promised we wouldn’t fly, and the drive is only about eight hours.
I feel like I’m going to pee my pants, but I already asked Luke to stop in the last town.
Maybe I need to go easy on the icees. But they help with my heartburn, and heartburn is pretty much the worst thing ever.
Worst. Thing. Ever.
I begin to wiggle in my seat, crossing my legs and bracing myself against any potholes. It’s not like they have many on the highway, but a girl can never be too careful. Especially when it comes to not wetting her pants in front of her best friend who would never let her hear the end of it.
“How you doin’ over there, Liv?” Luke glances at me before turning his eyes back to the road.
He’s wearing a light blue t-shirt that stretches across his muscular chest, his worn blue jeans covering his thighs.
I grit my teeth as he lightly taps his brakes, causing my butt cheeks to clench in hopes of preventing an accident of a different kind all over Luke’s leather seat and my simple black yoga pants.
I refuse to travel uncomfortably. Plus, yoga pants are pretty much the only thing I fit into right now, but that’s beside the point.
“You okay?” he asks, his lips tilting upwards in a smirk. I’m pretty sure he knows what my problem is.
“Fine,” I grit out, crossing my legs for the third time. “Just trying to keep your car clean.”
His jade eyes glance my way again before his smirk turns into a devious grin. Luke turns down the volume on his car stereo and lets the silence envelop me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“So…now probably wouldn’t be a great time to tell you a joke?” he asks mischievously. His eyes are practically glowing with triumph, knowing how easy it would be to make my bladder explode like a water balloon.
I glare in his direction, praying he doesn’t have any new material I’ve never heard.
I already know that politely asking him to keep his annoyingly gorgeous lips sealed will be pointless. When Luke is determined about something, there’s no stopping him, and apparently, he wants to see me pee my pants.
Bastard.
That being said, it doesn’t stop me from sticking my pointer fingers into my ears and humming a Taylor Swift song while refusing to look at Luke. Mature, I know. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of the clown from It, or my mother-in-law. Nothing’s scarier than her.
After a few moments of silence, I open my eyes and peek at Luke. His eyes are glued to the road. I begin to wonder if he’s given up, when I hesitantly lower my hands to rest on my swollen belly.
My eyes stay focused on the side of Luke’s face, taking in his chiseled jaw and five o’clock shadow. His calloused palms grip the steering wheel casually.
After my eyes dart between the clock on the dashboard and Luke’s annoyingly attractive face for exactly five minutes, I finally begin to feel my muscles relax. I’ve been tense for so long, I’m starting to get a Charlie horse in my left butt cheek.
I bite my lip, still cautiously awaiting his next move. Because like I said, he doesn’t give up easily.
“So, I read an article in National Geographic the other day,” Luke states, casually.
My eyebrows crinkle; I can’t figure out what angle he’s going for.
After a minute, I decide to throw him a bone because, how is the National Geographic funny? I roll my eyes before playing along, my curiosity peaked.
“Okay?” I ask, dragging out the word.
“Apparently, there were these two elephants that saw a naked guy running around.”
I can’t tell if that’s the punchline to the dumbest joke ever, or if he really did read an article about elephants seeing a naked dude.
I shake my head slightly, waiting for him to get to his point. I grab my melted icee, placing the straw between my lips. I know I shouldn’t be drinking anymore, but did I mention the heartburn?
“Anyway, the first elephant turns to the second and says, ‘I really don’t know how he can feed himself with that thing.’”
My brows continue to furrow as I take a drink. I look at Luke, clueless as to what he’s talking about until….
I snort loudly, spewing bright red cherry slushie through my nose and down his dashboard, causing me to laugh hysterically, burying my face in my hands.
That is the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard.
As I try to catch my breath between bouts of laughter, I say, “Joke’s on you, my friend. ‘Cause now you have to get your car cleaned.”
It’s not even that funny of a joke. Really. It isn’t. However, the lengths my best friend will go to get me to pee my pants is ridiculous. Thankfully, his front seat will remain clean for now, even if his dashboard isn’t.
That being said, I’m afraid my underwear won’t stay dry for much longer if we don’t find a rest stop soon. Just as I’m about to ask for a funnel and a cup, I see a Chevron sign as Luke turns on his blinker, merging off the exit.
I say a silent prayer in thanks, throwing the door open, and booking it to the restroom before Luke can even turn off the ignition.
After using the facilities, I lumber back to the car, my lower back aching from sitting for so long.
Carrying around a twenty-pound watermelon isn’t easy on the joints.
Or the bladder.
Rubbing my chest, I attempt to relieve the heartburn that is still driving me crazy. Pregnancy is awesome. Seriously, a total miracle. But I’m so over all these shitty side effects.
I take a few deep breaths before grabbing the door handle, preparing for the next few long hours in the car.
As I slide back into my seat, I can see the dashboard has been cleaned, and a fresh cherry icee is sitting in the cup holder next to a brand-new container of Tums.
I glance over at Luke as he fiddles with the stereo, turning the music back on, totally oblivious to how much his small gestures mean to me.
The Liv Whisperer strikes again.
Chapter Fifteen
Liv
Two hours later, we finally pull into Luke’s childhood home in the early evening. It’s a beautiful two-story house covered in freshly fallen snow with twi
nkling Christmas lights hanging from the roof. The driveway has been recently shoveled, and I can’t help but smile as the sharp breeze kisses my cheeks, turning them pink almost instantly.
I take a deep breath of the crisp winter air and look up at the cloudy sky. I’ve missed Utah. People might think it’s full of Mormons and polygamists, but that’s simply not true. Well, at least not the polygamist part. And Mormons are pretty cool, too.
There are plenty of normal, friendly people here, and Luke’s family is definitely one of them. It’s been almost five years since I’ve really seen them, and I can’t wait to catch up with everyone. This was practically my second home in high school.
Adam’s family was way too strict when it came to a bunch of teenagers hanging out, so we always spent the majority of our time at Luke’s. I was a little nervous about coming back, afraid this place would stir up too many memories, but I can’t help the feeling of excitement bubbling inside of me.
I’ve missed Mrs. Jensen like crazy. She was practically my second mom growing up, and it was hard losing touch with her. And let’s not forget Breezy-Bree, Luke’s younger sister. Those two are only eighteen months apart, and I loved hanging out with her. Luke always got annoyed when she’d tag along with us, but I loved having another girl in the group. And did I mention she’s hilarious?
I can’t help but feel disappointed in myself. Why do I let important people I care about fade into the background of my life without making them a priority? Nothing should get in the way of people you care about. I need to change that about myself. No matter what happens, I need to keep the importance of my relationships in perspective. I always complain about feeling alone, but maybe if I nurtured the friendships around me, that wouldn’t be the case.
I shake off my morose thoughts, convinced my brain is just frazzled from our car ride. When did I get to be such a Debbie Downer?
I pull my light gray North Face coat closer to my body, or at least as close as I can with a giant belly in the way. I gave up zipping it closed a couple months ago. Luke places his hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the front door.