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“Fine!” Cassie shouted, and her hands went up in the air. “Dean’s my doula. Congrats, Dean. You’ve got the job.”
Dean’s face morphed into absolute panic. “Oh no, honey. Hell no, actually.” He held up both of his hands and wiggled his fingers. “These are not the hands of a man who touches pussycats. Especially ones that are crowning and ready to deliver.” He grimaced as the words left his lips.
“Actually,” I pointed out with the raise of one finger. “It’s the baby that crowns. Not the pussycat.”
Dean leaned forward and pretended to retch. Needless to say, that got us more attention from the surrounding patrons.
And I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into laughter.
Georgia and Cassie stared at me in confusion.
“What? I’m sorry, but the mere idea of Dean being in the delivery room while you’re screaming your head off is beyond comical. It is fucking gold.”
Dean grinned, and Cassie started to laugh.
But Georgia had not a single change in her serious, steadfast facial expression.
I pointed toward her as my laughter slowed. “Look, I get it, you’re worried about Cassie and the baby. And I think it’s really adorable you care about her so much.” I glanced at Cass. “Seriously, she’s only doing this out of love, so cut her some slack.”
My eyes met Georgia’s again. “But come on, Georgia. You need to cool it on the crazy. Cassie is taking care of herself. She’s taking care of the baby. And both mom and baby are healthy and happy. I mean, look at her. Only a healthy pregnant mom could walk around with that gorgeous glow. Plus, if the size of her boobs is any indication, her baby will be well fed and taken care of, always.”
“Okay. Okay.” A soft smile crested Georgia’s mouth, and she held up both hands. “I get it. I’m a little bit crazy, but it’s only because I love you,” she declared as she winked at Cass. “I promise, I’ll do my best to try not to be so overprotective and worried about my best friend and godson. But just cut me some slack, all right? Some days, I just worry about you. I just want you and little man to be healthy.”
“Those are literally all the exact things you just said,” Dean whispered to me under his breath. I giggled a little but shushed him so that the ladies could finish their moment.
“Stop stealing my husband’s moves.” Cassie winked back at her. “And I promise I will try to be more understanding. Love you, Wheorgie.”
“Love you too, Casshead.”
“Awwwwww….” Dean said with a big smile. “You two are the fucking cutest.”
“Hey! Watch your language around my kid!” Cassie exclaimed as she held both hands over her belly. “He can hear you. And I’d really love it if he doesn’t have a fucking mouth full of curse words the second he comes out of my vagina.”
“But, honey, you just said fucking,” Dean admonished.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m covering his ears.”
We all laughed at that.
Dean smirked and stared at Cassie’s chest in disgust. “You’re right,” he told me. “They are literally bigger than my head.” He waved his hand over them and looked Cassie in the eye. “Do you mind covering those up a little more when we meet for lunch? I mean, they are starting to scare me. I honestly think I’m going to start having nightmares.”
Cassie tugged down the neck of her shirt even farther. “Yeah, well, my husband thinks otherwise. And I prefer him to walk around with a constant boner, so consider your suggestion declined.”
Dean put on some imaginary Fuck you lipstick with his middle finger, and then checked it in his real-life compact that he pulled from God knows where.
“Speaking of Thatch, have you guys decided on any names yet?” I asked, genuinely curious and trying to move the conversation along. I knew it had been an ongoing debate between the two of them. So many of the names Cassie suggested were ridiculous, I had started to wonder if she was just pranking him.
Oddly enough, pranks had been the foundation of their relationship. I’d missed the details, but every once in a while, the group liked to take a trip down memory lane.
Her lips curved like a cat with its cream. “You have no idea how much fun I’m having with this.” Jumping into action, she pulled her phone out of her purse and set it down on the table, tapping the screen a few times and pulling up a text conversation between her and Thatch. “Read these.”
I foolishly took the phone from where it sat and started scrolling.
Cassie: Naked Dinner tonight? I’m horny and need to be stuffed full of your giant cock. Pretty please? With cherries and whipped cream and a naked Cass spread across the kitchen table?
Thatch: Fuck, Cass. That got my cock hard, instantly.
Cassie: So, that’s a yes?
Thatch: That’s a FUCK YES. GET NAKED. I’M LEAVING WORK NOW.
Cassie: But…it’s only noon, honey.
Thatch: I DON’T GIVE A FUCK. NAKED LUNCH. GET NAKED, CRAZY. DADDY’S COMING HOME.
Cassie: I have the best Daddy in the whole wide world.
So horrified I didn’t think I could speak, I shoved the phone at Georgia.
“Uhhh…” Georgia muttered once she read through the same conversation I’d just choked back down in the form of vomit. “I really could’ve gone my whole life without knowing you call Thatch ‘Daddy.’”
“That big tall drink of motherfucking water could be my daddy any day of the week.” Dean sighed and then pointed at Cassie. “You are one lucky bitch. Don’t ever forget that.”
I laughed. “So…is naked lunch code for a brainstorming session for baby names?”
Cassie smirked. “Nah. Naked lunch is code for Fuck my brains out, Daddy.”
“Why did you make me read that?” Georgia asked, but the smile on her face contradicted the admonishment in her voice. “Now I’ve got all kinds of weird shit floating around in my head.”
Cassie cackled. “God, I love you, Wheorgie. You always make my day.” She swiped the screen a few more times and pulled up a different section of the conversation.
“Here. This is what I meant for you to read.”
None of us reached for the phone.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stop being little bitches.” Cassie shoved it toward me.
Georgia and Dean scooted around and leaned over my shoulders so we could read at the same time.
Thatch: What do you think about Liam?
Cassie: That reminds me of this model I photographed about four years ago.
Thatch: *growls* Never mind.
Cassie: What? It was just some random model I took photos of.
Thatch: Did you fuck him?
Cassie: Yeah…we probably shouldn’t use that name.
Thatch: Benjamin, but Benny for short.
“Benny?” Georgia shrieked. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? That’s practically my name.”
“Relax. That was Thatch’s idea, not mine,” Cassie comforted.
When Georgia’s eyes went back to the phone, Cassie mouthed, “Front-runner.”
I shook my head, and Dean chortled into his mimosa.
Cassie: *singing* She’s got electric boobs and a Mohawk too…Buh-Buh-Buh-Bennie and the Jets….
Thatch: “She’s got electric boots a mohair suit.”
Cassie: Those are not the lyrics.
Thatch: Yes. They. Are. Google it. And Benjamin is out now. You just ruined it.
Thatch: What about Max?
Cassie: When I was in fifth grade, I had a gym teacher named Max. He must’ve had 100 moles on his body, and his chest hair always peeked above the neckline of his shirt. God, I’m getting nauseated just thinking about it.
Thatch: Fuck. Never mind. What about Declan?
Cassie: Awwwww, I’m picturing this little leprechaun with a pot of gold now!
Thatch: Jesus, Cass.
Cassie: We could dress little Declan up in a green suit and green hat!!!
Thatch: NO.
Cassie: Thatcher…
Thatch: No. Give me some name ideas since you just ruined all of mine.
Cassie: My top three: Walter. Kanye. Channing.
Thatch: Are you high off pickle juice again? I mean, seriously, Kanye?
Cassie: I thought Kanye Kelly was a kick-ass name.
Thatch: Yeah. No way, Crazy. No fucking way.
Thatch: I love you, honey. I really do. But I’m getting worried our child will be nameless.
Cassie: What about Seaman?
Thatch: Pretty sure that’s what got us here trying to pick out baby names.
Cassie: Not SEMEN, but Seaman. Little Seaman Kelly…I think it’s got a certain quality to it, honey.
Thatch: Yeah. A spooge-like quality. I can’t continue this conversation with you right now or else I’m just going to start beating my head against my desk.
Cassie: Naked Dinner tonight?
Thatch: I’ll bring the SEMEN.
Georgia’s nose scrunched up. “Seaman? Really, Cass?”
Cassie grinned. “Hilarious, right?”
I nodded. “Not gonna lie, I thought it was brilliant.”
Dean grimaced. “If you name your child Kanye Kelly, I will scratch your eyes out like a feral cat.”
Cassie laughed. “Fierce words, diva.”
He nodded with raised eyebrows.
“Well, will you promise to take care of little Kanye Kelly because his mother won’t be able to see worth a sneakers without her eyeballs?”
