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“You know we don't keep secrets,” I sigh. “It's not just that I want to brag about how great I am at giving head.”
“And it was okay? It wasn't weird or anything?”
I smack my lips together, remembering. “Actually, it was delicious. Intense and really sweet. We should put that in the next batch of apple wine!”
“Shut up!” she laughs, shaking her head.
“No, I'm serious. We should totally have a line of special Vanessa flavored wines. Then we'd really be global. Everybody would want to taste of you!”
She tries to wriggle away, but I hold her tightly, reaching up under her nightgown to wrap my hand in the crook of her waist, like I like to do. She's ticklish there, but I don't want to make her squeal too much. She's hot, too, like a baby mammal. I slide my hands over her skin, filling the velvety undulations of this perfect, perfect woman.
“So you're feeling okay? I really was worried about you when I first got here.”
“Oh, I guess it was nothing,” she sighs. “Just felt kinda wobbly when I woke up. No big deal.”
“Understandable,” I comment. “I mean, we've been working you like a broodmare. I don't know why you put up with us. You should apply for hazard pay or something. Maybe a vacation? I mean, you should at least get the week of your period off…”
My voice trails off.
Something nags at me, something I forgot, perhaps. Something I'm supposed to remember.
“Don’t you need a break?” I continue while the back of my mind puzzles it out. “I mean, how long have you been here?”
Her eyes are wide and round, glittering like a winter sky.
“Almost eight weeks,” she says in a quiet voice.
“Eight weeks,” I repeat.
I sit up, holding my head. Spinning. Eight weeks she's been here, and never had a period. Not even one.
“Were you going to tell me?”
She pushes herself up on her elbows, dragging her nightgown down bashfully over her privates.
“I'm not sure there's anything to tell,” she says defensively.
“Nothing to tell, huh? Having our baby? That seems a kind of a big deal.” I counter. “That seems like the kind of thing that maybe we’d have a party for, Vanessa. Not something you just keep to yourself.”
“Well it's my body…”
“It's our baby,” I interrupt.
“I don't even know whose it is!” she practically yells. “I mean, I can’t even do the math. It could be any of you, Hank.”
I turn toward her, taking both of her hands in my hands. She is shaking, I feel it. I wait until she stares back at me and look deep into her eyes.
“It's all of us, Vanessa,” I explain to her calmly. “It's just family. We are one big family, don't you know that by now?”
Her lower lip trembles, her chin dimpling and puckering in twitches.
“Get dressed, Vanessa,” I tell her in a low voice.
She shakes her head, saying nothing.
“Get dressed, princess,” I repeat. I tug on her hands until she stands at the foot of the bed with me and kiss her on her sweet, trembling mouth. “Let's go talk to Stan.”
Chapter 20
