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Chapter Twenty-Six
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I’ve developed a foot fetish.
Over these last couple of weeks, I’ve wanted nothing more than to help alleviate some of the aches that come with carrying a life. It kills me every night when she’s throwing up and I can’t take that away for her. But she powers through the vomit, even if it pains me to watch, reminding me that it’ll all be worth it in the long run.
And hey, morning (or evening) sickness doesn’t last forever, right?
But let’s get back to her feet. She’s on them all damn day, working her ass off and making a living. The least I can do is give them a little rubdown to help ease some of the pain, correct? Plus, it gives me practice for the end of the pregnancy when they’re starting to swell and really hurt.
Did you know there are about a million books about babies out there? I know this because I went online and looked, and ordered ten. Each one is different, but the end result is the same. Lexi even reads them with me, even though she had already done a fair amount of research when she was trying to get knocked up the first time around.
Damn, am I glad that douche got his balls snipped. That decision turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me.
My mom is over the moon and keeps asking when I’m going to pop the question. She’s not pushing me by any means, but I can tell she’s excited about the baby and the prospect of finally having a daughter (in-law).
She told me a few weeks ago when we were alone that she finally paid off the debt. She was so happy and relieved, and after talking with Lexi, I decided not to tell her what I did. Mom is finally in a good place, even though she’s still legally married to the asshole, and I don’t want her to feel guilty or feel like she owes me anything. She doesn’t. Not one damn dime.
The boys are thrilled, of course. They’ve already named him Thor because they’re both sure he’s a boy. They’ll teach him to ride his bike and climb trees and use a sword.
I’ve scaled down my hours at Lucky’s, at least for a few more months and then I’ll quit altogether. My lease is up this month and I’m gonna move all of my stuff next door temporarily until we get our own place. Every penny I’m making there goes straight into the account Dean helped me set up for the baby. Lexi often comes up on the nights I work, usually sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a Sprite and devouring nachos. Well, until the evening sickness hits and then she’s in the bathroom in the back office, praying to the porcelain god and swearing like a sailor.
The wedding is this weekend. Lexi’s sister Jaime gets hitched in just a few days. Everyone is getting excited, including me. This family has really welcomed me with open arms, and is treating me like I’ve been a part of their clan for years. It still makes me wonder how in the fuck Chris could have fucked this all up. How in the hell did he walk away from all of this, making the choices he made?
I don’t get it, but I’m damn glad he did.
I check my watch again, anxious to be taking the afternoon off. Ernie was thrilled when I told him about the baby and is letting me flex my time as much as I need to so that I don’t miss any of the appointments.
Last month when we were there, the ultrasound machine had an issue. Even though we confirmed the pregnancy with a pee test, we didn’t get to take a peek at the baby. We were told that we’d get a look at today’s appointment. It’s been a constant source of excitement for both of us, especially in the last few days.
At three-fifteen, I head out into the mid-April afternoon and hop in Lexi’s car. I dropped her off at work this morning so that we were only dealing with one vehicle. When I pull up in front of the salon, she’s already standing by the window, watching and waiting.
She slides into the passenger seat, kisses me on the lips, and buckles up for the short drive to her OB. The Gods of Waiting Rooms is on our side today, too. When we walk in, there’s only one other woman there, and she’s called back before we even take our seats. Lexi reaches over and links our fingers as I start to tell her about the 454 big block I just started to rebuild. It’s going into an old El Camino that’s being restored to mint condition. I love the way she lights up when I talk about cars. It’s so fucking hot.
The mood is light and playful as we walk down the hallway and she steps on the scale. I turn away, not wanting her to think I care about her weight. I’ve known enough women in my life to know you never ask questions or act like you care about whatever number is on the scale. It’s like sex suicide. You bring that shit up and you’re sleeping on the couch for a week, jacking off to old Playboys you found in the basement.
“How have you been feeling this month?” the nurse asks Lexi.
“Not too bad. I’m still getting sick, but not quite every evening.”
“That’s good to hear,” she says, handing her the little cup to pee in. I wait in the hallway while she does her thing, and then we’re escorted to our room. “Everything off below the belt. We’re gonna get a look at your baby today.”
Lexi’s smile is infectious as she looks my way. We’re about to see our baby for the first time. This moment is making it all seem so surreal. Not that the constant throwing up or the confirmation from our last appointment wasn’t an indication enough, but actually getting to see the little bean on the screen is driving it all home.
“Good afternoon,” the doc says as he enters the room. He’s an older man, probably in his mid to late fifties. I’ll be honest, when Lexi told me her doc was a dude, I was a little unsettled. Okay, fine. I wanted to punch him in the face for putting his hands in a place I dubbed mine a while ago.
“Hey,” Lexi says, lying on the table.
“Well, the machine is all fixed, so we’re gonna take a peek at your baby. We’ll get a few measurements too to make sure everything is on track for the due date we predicted.”
October twenty-third. That date is burned into my memory.
The doc asks a few more questions before firing up the computer-looking thing on the cart beside the table. Lexi reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers together as we wait. We watch as he pulls out this long instrument and grabs a condom.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Because you’re too early for a typical ultrasound, we’re using a transvaginal unit that will be inserted into your vagina. We’ll be able to get a good look at the baby this way, as well as measure the heartbeat.” He doesn’t seem to care at all that he just put a rubber on the probe and is about to stick it inside my woman. In front of me.
