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“Is the nursery done?” Levi asks the dad-to-be.
“Done. Ryan finished building the shelving system in the closet and everything is pretty much washed and ready to go.”
“And you don’t know what you’re having?” I confirm.
“Nope. This is gonna be the best surprise ever,” he boasts proudly.
“How long?” I ask, enjoying getting to know these guys more.
“Doc says they’ll take the babies at thirty-five to thirty-six weeks. We have an appointment Monday and they’ll book the OR then. She’ll be thirty-four weeks Monday.”
“Holy shit, you’re gonna be a dad in like a week or two,” Levi reminds Linkin. There’s a weird mix of anxiety and anticipation reflecting in his eyes. It’s like he’s really excited, yet terrified at the same time.
I imagine that’s how any new parent probably feels. Though, I have no firsthand experience with any of that. Carrie didn’t want kids for a while because of the impact it would have on her career. She was one of the faces of Victoria’s Secret and not showing any signs of slowing down her modeling and traveling.
I knew I wanted kids someday. Even when I was young and wild, fresh out of college and heading to the majors, I saw kids in my future one day. It got bad three years ago when I hit my thirtieth birthday, but every time I’d bring it up to Carrie, I’d get her song and dance about not being ready yet.
At least now I don’t have to worry about her promise of someday. God knows she can’t keep a fucking promise anyway.
“I’m going over there,” Linkin says, tossing a few bills on the bar and standing up. “I can’t take it.”
“You’re just gonna bust in there, throw her over your shoulder, and carry her home?” Ryan asks, his voice laced with humor.
“This I gotta see,” Levi says, throwing more cash on the bar.
Ryan and I follow suit, leaving healthy tips for the old man who owns the bar, before heading out into the September evening. There’s barely any traffic so we only have to wait for a few cars before we cross the street. As soon as we reach the door of the business, the happy sounds of female laughter float outside. I swear I can pick AJ’s laugh out of all of them, a thought that makes me wonder if I need to turn in my man card.
Linkin pulls open the door and marches inside like a Stormtrooper ready for battle. We head to the back, the noise of female cackles getting louder with each step we take. I can’t decide if AJ is going to be upset or surprised at our intrusion, and there’s no time to wage a guess. We’re outside the room.
This could get interesting.
