by Stacy Borel
“Jesus, that was intense.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Intense?”
“Do you think maybe I should I have told him about that one time I tried pot in middle school? I mean I know it wasn’t the wisest decision I’ve made, but I swear it was one puff. That wouldn’t affect anything would it?”
Would he be offended if I laughed in his face? Probably. “No, I’m sure our child will still come out with ten fingers and ten toes.”
He jerked back. “Is it possible for a baby to be born with a different number?”
I lifted my hand and rubbed my eye. It was getting a twitch. “Actually, yes. My grandfather had an extra pinky toe on both feet.”
His eyes got huge. “Seriously?”
I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “No. God, would you relax? Everything they are doing is routine, okay? I promise its fine.”
Goosebumps broke out over my skin and I shivered. One thing I hated about doctors’ offices was just how damn cold they kept it. I looked down and saw my nipples hardened through the paper. Oh fuck. I crossed my arms.
“Too late, I already saw.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Of course you did.”
“For the record, you being pregnant isn’t a deterrent. If nothing else, it makes you even more desirable to me.”
“Not happening, Dodger.”
“We’ll see, Macie.”
Fucker. He was going to test my resolve. How long did I have before he started poking at my barriers? The nurse came in and drew my blood, and set up the room for Dr. Carrie to do an internal exam. When she left I readjusted my very breezy top, and tucked the paper blanket under my thighs. I had no reason to be modest now. Dodger and the doctor were about to get an eye full.
“What in the hell is this?” Dodger cringed and reached for the speculum.
He picked it up and gripped the handle. Fidgeting with the metal object, he seemed completely baffled.
“That,” I paused to be more dramatic. “Will be going inside of my vagina.”
His eyes got huge. He nearly dropped it back on the table.
“Just sit down before you break something. He’s already going to have to sanitize that.” I grumbled.
Dodger plopped down in the chair and starred at me.
“What?”
“It’s a lot to take in, is all.”
“Mhmm, it is.”
“Can I ask you something?”
He sounded so tentative. “Shoot.”
“Are you nervous?”
I watched him as he looked at his hands, before looking back up at me, expecting an answer. When those baby blues made contact with me I answer honestly.
“Petrified.”
Dodger nodded. I almost felt that in this very moment, we understood each other. We may be scared for very different reason, but there was definitely a mutual fear between us.
When Dr. Carrie finally came back in the room, I was more than ready to get this appointment over with. Let’s face it, having a metal instrument shoved up your who-ha wasn’t pleasant. Toss in the fact that your lady parts are on display for inspection, it was all an invasion of privacy. Who needed dignity at your friendly vagina doctor?
Laying back, I put my feet in stirrups. Doctor Carrie was on the other side of the paper sheet, putting on gloves.
“Okay you’re going to feel my hands. I apologize, they may be a little cold.”
I tried not to jump when I felt the coolness. Meantime I was doing my best to ignore Dodger, who was paying rapt attention to what was taking place. Nothing that was going on was out of the norm of a usual yearly exam for a woman, but it’s not like he knew that or had ever attended one. I should probably cut him some slack. As I laid there I wondered how all of this was going to work. I said I was going to look at houses, and I meant it. But did that mean Dodger would live with me so he could see his child? Would he stay the night here and there? I knew he wasn’t going to be happy if he was away from the baby or me. Every facet of his dominant personality was coming out knowing he was going to be a father. I honestly should have expected it.
Doctor Carrie did his exam and made small talk. After doing what he needed to down there, he grabbed the Doppler and placed it on my stomach. There was a loud whoosh whoosh sound in the room.
“That would be your heart beat it’s picking up.” He moved the wand around. Close to my pubic bone a softer whooshing sound came out of the speaker. “There we go.” He sat and listened for a few minutes.
I moved my attention over to Dodger. He was staring at my stomach in complete wonderment. It almost seemed . . . endearing. I couldn’t believe that was my baby’s heartbeat. I hear these sounds all day working in labor and delivery, but it’s completely different when it’s yours. There’s a certain sense of pride and emotional connection that’s suddenly there. Almost as if, that very first sound of it going through my ears, sync’d with my heart and we were one. Since finding out about this little nugget, I smiled for real for the first time. Tears pooled in my eyes and I was in awe. Dodger looked at me and winked. He knew no words were needed.
Dr. Carrie let us listen for a good minute before he ended the Doppler. He left briefly so I could get dressed. It stayed quiet in the room while I put my clothes back on. I think both of us were either unsure of what to say, or we were basking in that beautiful sound that was still echoing in our heads. A few minutes later, the doctor came back in to give us all the information that he’d gathered and some pamphlets.
“Okay, so based on your last cycle, I’m going to put your due date as April first next year.”
I made a noise and quickly covered my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Dodger asked.
The giggles bubbled up and I couldn’t help but let it all out. My eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them. “Oh come on, seriously? You don’t see the irony in that?” They both gave me a blank stare. “The due date is April first.” Nothing. “Guys, April Fool’s Day. Of all the days I’m freaking due on the most comical day of the year. Like ha ha, joke’s on you, Macie.”
The doctor smiled, but Dodger glared at me. “You’re right, I didn’t catch that one. Life’s not playing a joke, but it’s certainly something you could run with if you wanted.”
At least the man delivering my baby had a sense of humor.
“Here’s some info with some numbers, like breast feeding classes, or Lamaze, if that’s something that interests you. I’ll be seeing you once a month for now. When you get to the thirty-second week I’ll be bumping the visits up to every two weeks. And at thirty-six weeks I’ll ask to see you every week. There will be two scheduled ultrasounds, both checking the baby’s growth and development. Also checking to make sure there’s only one bundle in there.”
Dodger coughed really loud, and pounded on his chest. “Don’t joke about that, Doc. Some things aren’t funny.”
“Oh, I wasn’t joking about that. Multiples are always a possibility.”
Dodger’s face went ghostly white. If I found out I was carrying more than one in there, I’d likely have the same face.
“When will we find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” he asked.
“Not until around twenty weeks.”
Dodger nodded. The doctor shook Dodger’s hand and smiled at me. He congratulated us both and said he was excited to be with us on our journey. I’m sure he was also thrilled that I decided to keep the baby. I think he knew all along that abortion was never really going to be an option for me. After he left, I grabbed my bag and coat, and Dodger held the door open for me as we made our way outside.
“Want to grab a bite to eat?”
I was about to unlock my car and stopped to look at him. “Thank you, but I think I’m going to head home and take a nap.”
“Mace.” He deadpanned.
“Hmmm?”
“I’m not letting this go. We need to talk. And after all of that in there,”— he gestured at the building —“Seems there’s a lot more for us to g
o over than before.”
I couldn’t help the small smile that came to my lips. “Believe me, Dodger, I know you’re not.”
He let the pretense of being a hard ass go and he looked at me in wonderment. “Can’t believe there’s a little person in there.”
I shook my head. “Weird, right?”
“A little.”
It got quiet. And not in an awkward way, but more of we were watching each other, not sure what the next move should be. I know I needed to go get some much needed sleep, but leaving him now, when we’d just heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time, didn’t seem to be the thing to do. Saying I needed a nap was a cop out.
“How about this. Why don’t you come with me on Monday when I go look at houses, and we can sit down for lunch or dinner and discuss what we need to. Sound good?”
I could tell he was wanting to push and say he wanted to do it sooner, but I was being cordial and non-confrontational about it.
“Okay.”
I made eye contact and gave a genuine smile. “Okay.”
Dodger took a step forward and raised his arms infinitesimally, then thought better of it and dropped them. I think he was going to hug me and truthfully, I think part of me wanted him too. I was feeling happy about where this was all going. Affection from him was something I was craving and I hadn’t realized it until now. Just when I figured that out and was going to make my own motion to go to him, he stepped backwards toward his car.
A boyish smirk crossed his face. “This is happening, Macie.”
I was confused. “What’s happening?”
“This. Us.”
“Dodger . . . you’re delusional.”
He barked a laugh. “Nah, I see it. You want me.”
“I’m sure Dr. Carrie has the number for the psych ward.”
He was around to the driver’s side of his vehicle and opening the door. “You’re cute when you’re lying to yourself.”
I sighed. “Yeah, and telling yourself stories isn’t going to make me take my clothes off and climb on top of you.”
He stopped. “Who said anything about that?”
“You did?” I said as a question.
“No, ma’am. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
I dramatically yawned and opened my own car door. “Then what are you saying, Dodger?”
He placed both of his forearms on the roof of his car and stared me down. I had no choice but to look at him. He sucked me in like a damn wave being pulled back into deeper waters.
“I’m saying forever, Mace. You, me, the baby. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. Nothing about that has changed. You want sex, I’ll give you sex. You want hugs and kisses, and undivided attention, it’s yours. You want a house to decorate and make into something so you feel like it’s yours, consider it done. But us . . . and there is an us, it’s happening. The only person that is not seeing the grand picture here is you. I’ll give you your time, Macie Rosewood. But realize this,” he paused. “I’m sticking around. Push as hard as you want. I’ll tie your ass up and put you in a closet of our new home if I have too ’til you see what I am seeing.”
“Uh, pretty sure that’s illegal,” I interrupted.
“Probably, but I don’t care.” He tapped twice on the roof. “Find us a three bedroom to look at. Oh, and a two car garage. I’m going to need a place to put a treadmill.”
He climbed into his car, slamming his door and starting his engine. As he pulled out, he winked at me while I gaped at him with my mouth wide open.
“What in the what . . . ?”
I blinked and shook my head. A cool breeze blew past my face and some of my hair brushed across my face. A three bedroom, treadmill, and garage. He wanted me to find something for him because he thinks he’s moving in. Even worse he thinks his name will be on the house.
Holy hell, I woke the beast.
Chapter Seven
WORK KEPT ME BUSY through the weekend, along with incessant questions from my mother about what my plans for the future were. Everything I told her didn’t seem to be what she wanted to hear, and that’s just too damn bad. I wasn’t a failure for not following her agenda. She didn’t exactly say the words to me, but after twenty-five years of watching, living with, and studying her faces, I knew when I wasn’t up to par for her. My dad, on the other hand, appeared to be more accepting of it all. Granted I’m pretty sure Dodger was on his shit list. What can I say? Daddy’s little girl and all that hoopla. I’d have to commit murder and shave my head to make him turn his back on me.
It was now Monday. House hunting day. I personally was thrilled despite the company that was tagging along. Dodger insisted that he drive us to see each house. Currently, we were on our way to the first one on the list. Much to his dismay, he was going to find out that it was a two bedroom, single car garage, and little to no backyard. Sure I asked the realtor last night to line up the rest of the places to Dodger’s specification, but I had to keep the guy grounded somehow. Remind him that this wasn’t his choice, it was mine. Besides . . . maybe I wanted a three bedroom. I just didn’t want to be told that’s what I was going to buy. I inwardly laughed to myself.
When we pulled up to the house, even I gawked at it. It was a single story home, with the shingles from the roof falling off. Hmmm, that wasn’t disclosed in the description. Dodger looked over at me like “are you serious”?
“What?” I said, acting like I didn’t see the house was decrepit.
“Oh, nothing. Let’s go see the loveliness that you’ve lined up for us.”
I sneered at him. Could someone point me in the direction of the closest cliff I could shove him off?
We both got out and walked toward James, my realtor. He was standing on the front porch and greeted us with a pleasant smile. He seemed like a friendly man. It was my first time seeing him in person after multiple emails and many phone calls. He didn’t look at all how I expected him too. His voice sounded young, if you will. I pegged him as a twenty something that was dabbling in the real estate industry, but probably wasn’t sure if this was his chosen career path. He was knowledgeable and had an answer for everything that I’d asked. I expected to see a short slightly overweight, brunette. Maybe the type you’d find in their mother’s basement chugging beer, eating Taco Bell, and gaming for hours on end. This man, he was tall, thin, had eyes even lighter in color than Dodger’s sparkling blue. His hair was salt and peppered which made him incredibly handsome. Hmmm . . . wonder if I could get away with flirting with him and Dodger not string me up by my toes?
James held his hand out for both Dodger and me to shake. Dodger took it first. When I did, it felt confident and firm. I liked a good handshake. A weak one always made me write a person off before they even got a chance to leave any other impressions.
“So good to finally put a face to a name.”
“Yes, it is.” I batted my long lashes at him.
“I’m sorry, how long have you two been talking?” Dodger interjected, giving me a pointed stare.
“Oh, just a couple of days,” James answered.
“He seemed to know the most about the area I was looking in.” I shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal.
Man, why did it feel so good to see Dodger display his jealousy? It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to see it. That brooding male ego of his really was attractive even though I’d never tell him that it turned me on watching it. He’d go out of his way to puff up his chest in front of anything with a penis. Maybe even a female that was too lesbian or butch. You never know with this guy.
James put in the little code on the security box attached to the front door. “Okay, so what we have here is a two bedroom, one bath, craftsman style home. It was built in nineteen forty-four. There’s approximately nine hundred and eight square feet.” He got the key popped out of the lock box and he put it in the handle and twisted.
As soon as he pushed the door open, we were all assaulted with the smell of moth balls and definitely some
thing dead. I’d not smelled many dead things in my life, but I was sure there was a mouse somewhere out in the open or hidden between the walls that had an untimely death and it’s rotting corpse was now wafting through the house.
Dodger put his hand up to his nose. “God, what is what?”
James was trying to not mimic him, coughing a little, and miserably failing to brush off that he was disgusted by the smell.
“I apologize. The last time someone was in this house was over a year ago. It’s bank owned and they don’t usually come into their properties to make sure everything is up to par before being shown.”
“Maybe somebody should tell them they need to.”
Both men had taken a few steps into the house, but shuffled around when they noticed I wasn’t following.
“Macie, are you okay?” Dodger said, concerned.
I was still standing on the front porch, bent at the waist, trying not to dry heave into the bushes just off the steps.
“Mace?” he asked again.
I held my pointer finger up, asking him to give me a second. I was trying to compose myself. Jesus Christ, no way was I going to make it one foot in this place without hurling. And I’ll be damned if this was pregnancy shit and heightened sense of smell. This place just reeked.
“Huh uh,” I tried to stand upright and wiped a tear from gagging, under my eye. “Not going to happen. Let’s roll, boys.”
James was a little confused.
Dodger took it upon himself to proudly state, “She pregnant. Those crazy symptoms and all, just never know what’s going to come out of her mouth next.”
My lip curled. “Don’t ‘pregnancy symptoms’ me! You’ve not been around long enough to even experience them, so shut up.” Another wave of nausea hit me.
“I would have been if you’d have told me sooner.”
“Uh, I told you when I thought it was a good time. Get over it.”
“And you thought a month later was a ‘good time’.” He air quoted.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “Hey, at least you know. I could have been one of those girls that doesn’t tell the father shit, then winds up on Maury Povich two years later attempting stupid DNA tests and I’m in tears screaming you’re the father.”