Page 39 of Twins with Daddy’s Bestie

“Has he made up with your dad yet?”

“Neither of us have.” I try to focus on the present, reminding myself that my father will come around eventually. “He just needs time.”

I've tried calling my dad countless times and sent him a hundred text messages, but every time, he responds, “I need time. Love you Booger.”

“It's just a shame because there are so many important things related to the pregnancy that I want him to experience. I would love to go shopping for a crib with him, but I can't,” I say, more exhausted than sad at this point.

“Well, you always have me to tag along,” Callie says, wrapping an arm around me as we walk back to the apartment to gather the final few boxes.

It doesn't take long before everything is packed and we are climbing into the truck. Callie looks wistfully at the front door of the apartment we shared and sighs, looking at me fondly. “Say goodbye; you're never going to see this place again.”

“You're so dramatic,” I laugh, putting on my seatbelt. “I'm moving fifteen minutes away, not to North Korea.”

We laugh as we drive, catching up with people in her office as she tells me all the dramatic stories about her coworkers. I try not to think about how much I'm going to miss spending time with her. It's not like she and I will be estranged, but when one friend is raising a child, there are bound to be scheduling issues. No more Saturday brunches and staying up late to binge-watch TV shows and drink orange juice and tequila.

When we get to Drake's house, Callie stands at the front of the U-Haul with her hands on her hip staring at the mansion that is now my home. I clap my hands on her back and laugh. “Don't worry, you can come over whenever you want.”

I lead her inside and give her the tour, watching as she oohs and ahhs over various paintings and pieces of furniture.

“I've always hated people who grew up with a silver spoon in their mouth, but I think I'm going to like your kid,” Callie says, leaning against the door frame to the guest bedroom Drake and I plan to turn into a nursery. “Especially if they split their allowance with their poor old godmother.”

“Trust me, this isn't going to be a spoiled trust fund baby,” I assure her. This is a conversation Drake and I have had several times, and we agree we want our child to stand on their own feet.

We head back out to the U-Haul and begin bringing boxes into the living room. The first two trips go fine, and we’re looking forward to being finished as quickly as possible.

On the third trip, as I am walking down the metal ramp, I start to feel light-headed and dizzy. I have to stop what I'm doing and set the light plastic tote down and take a seat. I've stood up too quickly and made myself dizzy plenty of times, but this is different.

I feel pressure rising in my body, and I don't know why, but I'm panicking. My heart beats faster, and a strange feeling in my stomach makes the anxiety worse.

“Liv, are you okay?” Callie asks, rushing to my side and kneeling on the metal ramp beside me.

I shake my head and hold my stomach, panting heavily as a panic attack starts to set in. “I don't know, I just feel strange.”

I explain how I'm feeling and watch as my panic spreads to her face. “Okay, I have no idea what this means, but let’s get you to the hospital. I'm sure everything is fine, but we should be safe.”

She helps me up, guides me to my car, and helps me into the passenger seat. I close my eyes and lean my head against the headrest as we drive away, listening as Callie calls Drake next and the call goes to voicemail. She tries again, and it doesn't go through.

“Come on, man, pick up your phone.” Callie calls him one more time before she stops at a red light and fires off a quick text message to let him know what's going on.

We pull into the emergency room parking lot, and I look at the front entrance, not wanting to get out to reveal what's going on with me. I've gotten excited about the baby, and the thought of something happening is horrifying. It hurts even more that I might be going through this without Drake here.

26

Drake

Sitting down to lunch with my father isn't normally something I stress about. I want to impress him, and doing well with my business is important, but today, I have something much different to discuss.

I get to the restaurant about fifteen minutes before him and sit toward the back of the dining room. When he arrives, I stand, and shake his hand, as I normally do. We spend a few minutes making small talk, catching up on our businesses.

“If you think wining and dining me is going to get me to invest more in your business, then you’re mistaken,” my father begins as he finishes a big bite of the steak he ordered. I laugh and shake my head, sipping the old fashioned I ordered to soothe my nerves.

Even though my dad won’t punch me when he hears the news, I'm just as nervous about telling him. It's not as much the idea of me starting a family as it is something else I've needed to get off my chest.

“That's not why I invited you out,” I say, setting my utensils down and sitting up straight. “I've been seeing someone, and it's serious. Her name is Olivia, and I love her, Dad.”

He raises his eyebrows and sets his fork and knife down when he realizes the conversation has turned. “Drake, are you sure? Not that I'm not happy for you, but this is pretty unusual for you.”

“I've never been more sure about anything,” I reply with a smile. “She's everything I didn't know I was looking for. Every moment I've spent with her has been incredible, and I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with her.”