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“I know.” Relieved that he seemed to be reeling too, I nodded eagerly and turned in my seat and mirrored his actions. “She called me Mom, Joe.”
“It sort of just hit me when we were in there, you know?” he mused, rubbing his jaw. “We’re going to be parents.”
“To a person,” I agreed, chewing on my nails nervously. “A literal human being.”
“This time next year, there’s going to be a kid back there,” he added, gesturing to the back seat of my car. “One we made.”
“Never mind next year,” I choked out. “We’re going to have a baby this Halloween.” My eyes widened. “Halloween, Joe. We’re going to have a trick-or-treater.”
“And Santa at Christmas.”
“And the Easter bunny in spring.”
“And I don’t have a house, or a car, or a fucking qualification.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “We are so out of our depth here, baby.”
“You’re fine,” I accused. “You’re amazing with babies. I’m the one in trouble here. The only infant I’ve ever held was my cousin’s pet baby gerbil, and guess what happened to it, Joe? I dropped it. Uh-huh. That’s right. The poor thing nose-planted in its cage when I was left in charge.”
“Okay, comparing your ability to mother our child to caring for your cousin’s pet rodent is not the same thing, Molloy.”
“Maybe not, but I’m not exactly the responsible-mother type, am I?”
“And I am?”
“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been a dad for your entire life. You even have that ‘Don’t make me come up those stairs’ dad threat down to a fine art.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“I’m serious, Joe. You’ve got this. I’m screwed.”
“Give me another look at that,” he muttered, snatching the baby scan out of my hand and holding it up to his face. “Oh Jesus, I think I see a dick.”
“What? No, you don’t.” Gaping, I snatched the picture back and studied where he was pointing to. “That’s not a dick, that’s a leg.”
“No, that’s a leg,” he corrected, tapping the picture. “That’s another leg. And that is a dick.”
“That’s the baby’s cord.”
“That’s a dick, Molloy.” Dropping his head on the steering wheel, he muttered something incoherent under his breath and groaned loudly. “It’s a boy.”
“But you said it’s too early to tell.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell ya, because that’s a dick.”
“But how can you tell?”
“Trust me, I have seen too many of those fucking sonograms down through the years. I know a dick when I see one.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I hope I am.”
“Joey.” I slapped his arm. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t give him my name,” he whispered, head still resting on the steering wheel. “Please, Aoife, just give him yours and break the cycle.”
His parents.
It always came back to his parents.
