Author: Cheryl McIntyre

“You tired?”

“A little.” I’m always tired now. I don’t know how someone so tiny can wear me down so much. The doctor assured me it’s normal. I’ve been taking my prenatal vitamins and Park has been on top of making sure I’m eating. Bree treats me as if I’m made of glass, not letting me do much around the house. And even with all that, I can’t keep my eyes open past 10 PM.

That’s not even close to being the worst of it. My breasts hurt. And I have cramps. The doctor said that’s my uterus stretching. This is only nine weeks in. I still have thirty-one more weeks of this and I don’t know what to expect next.

It has to get better, though, right?

***

I haven’t brought a guy home since I started college. In my twenty years, I’ve only ever had two serious boyfriends outside of Park. So it shouldn’t have surprised me when my parents fawned all over him to the point of embarrassment.

We sit down for lunch and before Park can take the seat next to me, Ozzy hurries to fill it, forcing Park to sit across from me instead.

“Are you in school with Lulu?” Dad asks.

Park nods. “I’m a sophomore.”

“He’s attending on an academic scholarship,” I add. I figure it’s better to point out Park’s attributes before I tell them I’m having his baby. Maybe I should wait. Maybe I shouldn’t tell them today. I mean, it’s the first time they’re meeting. I shouldn’t ruin this by igniting a nuclear bomb.

Yeah. I should probably wait. I have plenty of time to tell them later. Today can just be about them getting to know Park.

Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.

“How are classes going, Lu?” Mom inquires.

“Uh…good. They’re good.”

“And your professors? You like them this semester?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Mom sets her fork down and focuses her full attention on me as she studies my face.

“No. I mean, they’re good. Everything is good.”

Mom locks her fingers together as she continues to watch me. Her eyes narrow slightly and she clears her throat. “So everything’s good. That’s good.”

“Park,” Dad begins and I hear the silent laughter in his voice. “Has Lucy told you about her complete disdain for clothing during her preschool years?”

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. And here we go…

“Couldn’t keep clothes on her for anything,” Mom continues.

“She was kicked out of preschool,” Dad goes on.

Mom nods as her eyes light up. “Poor Sister Marie was nearly hospitalized from the sight of little Lucy running through the halls in her birthday suit.”

Park releases a bark of laughter and I sigh audibly. Every single time. They live for my humiliation.

“We aren’t Catholic,” I remind Mom. “And I never went to preschool. That was Jeremy.”

“Not the naked thing,” Jeremy corrects. “Just preschool.”

“No,” Dad muses. “I’m pretty sure it was Lucy.”

“I haven’t heard that story,” Park announces. “But I understand she had an unusual addiction to toilet water…?”

I cup my hand over my mouth to keep from spitting food. Mom and Dad exchange a look before erupting in hysterics.

“Oh, I like you,” Mom tells Park. She turns to me and grins. “He’s a keeper.”

Dad leans over and slaps Park on the shoulder. “Quickest game of bullshit I’ve ever played.”

“Lucy really did go through a phase where she hated clothing,” Mom says. “She was two and every time I turned around she was peeling off her clothes.”

Park nods. “I’d say it was more than a phase. No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep her from stripping naked every chance she gets.”

My mouth pops open in shock and the entire table quiets.

“Did…” Dad looks at Mom and shakes his head slowly. “Did he just flip our game on us?”

I close my mouth as Park’s lips twist up in a superior smirk and he winks at me before taking a bite of his pasta.

“Kudos, Mr. Reed.” Mom salutes him with her glass of wine. “Like I said, keep this one.”

***

“Coffee’s ready,” Mom says as I load the last glass into the dishwasher.

“Oh, no thanks.” I press the button, starting the cycle and straighten up to Mom peering at me over her cup.

“You always have coffee.”

I press my lips together as I try to come up with an excuse. The only thing that keeps running through my mind is caffeine is bad for the baby. “I just don’t want any.”

She sips from her mug as she keeps her eyes glued to my face. I watch her scrutinize me for a moment before turning to the sink. I grab the dishrag and start wiping the counters down just to give myself something to do. Some reason to not have to look at her.

“Are you sure everything’s all right?”

“I’m positive. Everything’s—”

“Good?”

“Exactly,” I whisper.

“Fine.” She pivots on her heel, her long, dark hair swinging behind her as she leaves me in the kitchen. I blow out a breath and lean over the countertop. I drop my head, letting the marble cool my face.

“Hey, kid,” Dad calls, peeking around the doorway. “Ride with me on an ice cream run?”

I could use the break away from Mom for a little bit. I hesitate as I contemplate it.

“Come on,” he insists. “I’m getting old. There are only so many trips to the freezer section left in me.”

He pouts his lips and blinks at me. I laugh, giving in. “Okay, let’s go.”

40

Park

As soon as Lucy left with her dad, I had a feeling something was up. The moment Mary sent Jeremy and Ozzy upstairs to their rooms, I confirmed it. So now I’m just waiting.

“How do you like school?”

“It’s all right,” I reply. I bite down on my thumb nail, my knee bouncing.

“What did you say were taking?”

“I didn’t. Computer science.” I glance around, wondering how long Lucy’s been gone. And how much longer she’s going to be. Mary pulls her hair to the side and starts braiding it deftly. Even though she isn’t her biological mom, I can see Lucy so plainly in her movements. I’ve watched this same routine more times than I can count.

“And you and Lu, how’d you meet?”

“Jessie,” I explain. “I moved in with him at the beginning of summer and she shot me with a water gun.”

Mary smiles at that and tucks her finished braid over her shoulder. “You care about her.”

She doesn’t state it as a question, but I nod. “Very much.”

“Then tell me what’s going on with her. Something is off, I know it. But she keeps saying everything’s good.”

I scratch my head, feeling tremendously uncomfortable. It’s not my place to tell her, but I don’t want to lie to her either. “You need to ask her,” I say apologetically. “But just so you know, she plans on telling you.”

Her jaw twitches and I realize belatedly that I shouldn’t have said anything. She’s upset and I feel like shit.

“Is it bad? Is she okay?”

Fuck.

I don’t know how to answer. I shake my head. “She’s… She just… I’m not sure—” The door opens, cutting me off and I deflate in relief.

Thank God.

“We got cookies and cream,” Ryan announces. He pauses, his gaze moving over his wife, sliding over to me, and then back to Mary. “What’s wrong? Where are the boys?”

“Upstairs,” Mary says. She turns to Lucy and gestures her over. “I think we need to talk.”

Lucy’s eyes widen and she looks at me quickly. I shake my head once, letting her know I didn’t say anything. Barely. But I didn’t tell her mom she’s pregnant.

Ryan follows closely behind Lucy. “What’s going on?”

My discomfort level has just skyrocketed and I want to take off so badly. I touch the cigarette pack in my pocket, wishing I could hit one real quick before whatever’s about to happen happens.

“Is there something you wanted to tell us?” Mary asks. Lucy’s gaze darts over to me again and I realize I need to man up. What’s done is done. We’re both adults. It’s definitely not the best situation, but it is what it is.

I stand up, going to my girlfriend’s side. She takes my hand, pulling me closer.

“I’m pregnant.”

Okay, I thought there’d be something leading up to the big reveal, but no. Lucy just put it out there on the table all at once.

“What?” Mary asks. It’s clear from the tone of her voice that she heard exactly what was said. She just wants verification that she heard correctly.

“I’m having a baby.”

“But—what…” Mary sputters before choosing the question she wants to ask first. “How far along are you?”

“Nine weeks.”

Everyone is silent as the news sinks in.

“If you’re happy then we’re happy,” Ryan says roughly.

“I am,” Lucy assures him. “I’m a little scared, but I’m happy.”

Ryan’s eyes shine and he shakes his head. “Where the hell have I been? I’ve just been living my life and time’s been passing me by. When did you grow up?”

“I’m still working on it,” Lucy says.

***

“We should move in together,” I announce.

Lucy lifts her head from my chest and stares at me with big eyes. “What?”

“We should do it. I mean, we pretty much do already. And don’t you think it’s stupid to live in two separate apartments when we’re having a baby. He—or she—should have one stable home. Don’t you think?”

“It’s too early for this,” she groans. “I just woke up and you make this declaration out of nowhere.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile.” I shift to my side so I can look at her better. I rest my head on my fist and brush the hair off her face and shoulder. My fingers graze smoothly across her collar bone and I want to kiss her there.

“Moving in together is a really big step.”

I quirk a brow. “Not bigger than having a baby.”

She bites her lip and I hope she’s considering it. “What about Bree and Jess?”

“They can stay where they are. Or, hell, they can move in with each other. They spend most of their time together anyway.”

“You’re serious?”

“Completely,” I agree. “Move in with me.”

“Let me talk to Bree. I need to make sure she’ll be okay.”

I grin at her. “Okay.” I bend forward and trail my lips over her neck. “Today. Talk to her today.”

Lucy pulls me closer, shifting her leg to the side. “Do something for me first.”

“Whatever you want,” I say against her throat.

“Make love to me.”

While Lucy worked last night, I spent her shift reading. Everything I found says sex is safe during a healthy pregnancy. I needed the reassurance and it couldn’t have come at a better time because sharing a bed with her every night and not being inside of her was beginning to be too much.

I sit back and tug her panties off. “You know what…? I’ll be right back.”

“What?”

I hold up my index finger as I slip out the door. I open the cupboard and pull out the bottle of chocolate syrup I bought the other day. It’s not hot fudge, but it’s close enough.