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Oh God.
We can't bring a baby intohisworld.
The blare of horns snaps me back to reality. Staring at the mirror, I acknowledge Carter and say, "Why have we stopped?"
For a man who wouldn't need a mask to dress up as Freddy Kruger, it is amazing how comfortable I am in his presence. Unable to see his mouth, I watch his eyes as he says, "That's big news, Miss Slater. Congratulations."
"Could you hear her?"
Nodding, he confirms, "Yes." When he glances at my ear, I realise I'm still clutching my phone to the side of my head. I lower it to my lap. Looking at it, I'm reminded that Max doesn’t have a phone. He doesn't like to be contacted. Bothered. That's the mentality of a man who doesn't want to be tied to the world. Restricted. Not that long ago, he thought having a girlfriend was worse than polio. And now. . .
I glance up at Carter. "I can't dance Sugar Plum." The words come out at the same time as my realisation. Uttered without context, they must be such peculiar words to him. In two months, I'll be expected to perform a very physically demanding role - one that I'll never be able to do four to five months pregnant. I mean, I could. But not to the standard I would want. That truth sinks like a boulder to the pit of my belly, my body slumping in the seat as if its presence is a tangible thing.
How big will my belly be at five months pregnant?
I'm so small.
Max is so big. . .
I don't know enough about genetics to know whether the size of the parents play any role in the size of the foetus. . .
Should I call it a foetus?
Can I?
Is it wrong?
It's a baby-
"Max said you like carnival rides?"
Carter cuts into my complete freak out. Peering into the rear-view mirror again, I can see his eyes are smiling. And even though it’s a bizarre question or statement, I'm not sure which, I still nod.
He explains, "They have a festival down at Stormy River. How about you skip ballet and I pick up your friend, Toni, and take you both there?"
Cassidy
Eatingmy fairy floss on a stick, I walk alongside Toni as we meander along the boardwalk through a noisy sea of people. To my right, there are local nick-nack stalls one after the other; to my left is Stormy River. Flanking me on both sides. . . are two fricking prams. They are, like, the tenth babies I've seen since we arrived half an hour ago.
What's that all about?
They are coming for you, Cassidy.
The mothers silently chant 'one of us' with their eyes and the babies mock me with their cuteness. I'm like the pregnant woman's version of the crazy cat lady phenomenon. Babies start appearing randomly in my path. On the benches I pass. In the windows of the coffee shops. On a nearby fence. . . Okay, maybe not on a fence. . .
I drag Toni off the main deck and onto the grass, hoping the terrain will mean less prams. We move up a bank towards the glowing lights and hustle and bustle of the showgrounds. As we head towards the screams and laughter of people enjoying the main rides, Carter follows several metres behind us.
My best friend gets scanned from head to toe by almost every oncoming female. While Toni is undeniably gay to me, to strangers, he is equally as beautiful as he is masculine. He is clearly ethnic, but most people have a hard time placing his ancestry. Being both Asian and Italian, he's just a lovely blend. He is built solid from spending most of his time at the gym, and he's confident and funny without restraint or care.
He looks over his shoulder at Carter. "Is it weird that I kinda want to pull him into The House of Mirrors and blow him?"
How am I still surprised by the words that come out of Toni's mouth? "Oh my God, Toni, you have a boyfriend."
His beautiful dark, almond-shaped eyes thin further as he grins. "And? There is something kind of kinky about that man I just can't ignore."
Not wanting to think about Carter like that, I avoid the thought all together. "He's Carter. He doesn't have sexuality as far as I'm concerned."
"Oh, Golden Girl." Toni sighs. "He has sexuality. He is dripping in sexuality."
