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Them.
The fucker said them. I have no doubt we're going to be the talk of this office for the next nine months. There’d be no point attempting to find a new doctor after this, because Justin would have the same conversation with the next doc, and this doc is probably going to put the details of our visit on some sort of online baby doctor message board.
“Again, don’t do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. My guess would be that you'll lose interest in a fair amount of those activities sooner rather than later. While it's no secret that a woman's sex drive often skyrockets in the second trimester, so can her energy. Do what feels right for you."
“What about double penetration?” Julia asks, clearly not picking up on Justin’s enjoyment and my need for immediate death.
“You guys are killing me!” I cry.
She turns in my direction, brows drawn in confusion.
"What? I thought we were supposed to use this time to ask questions."
“It's fine," the midwife smiles. "This is precisely the right time and place for this conversation. Double penetration is perfectly acceptable. The further along you get, the more challenging it’s going to get. Some women feel comfortable having sex right up until delivery. Some have very little desire, and that’s alright too. The larger you become, the more difficult some of those positions are going to be.”
The midwife pauses and looks around, making prolonged eye contact with each and every one of us.
“I'm sure you're already aware, but it’s especially important now. If it's been in someone's rear end, it doesn't go inside Julia’s vagina. It’s never a good idea, but it’s doubly important to keep any sort of bacteria away from the vaginal canal. UTIs are never pleasant, but while pregnant they can be both miserable and dangerous."
I sink into my chair. Justin looks at me and chuckles, and sweet, earnest Julia nods her head and takes notes. Fucking perfect.
"But if in six months time, barring any complications, you still feel up to—" the midwife flounders for a moment, flapping her hand at the wrist. "If you still feel up to whatever it was that got you pregnant to begin with, well then, I say good for you, girl."
Justin and Julia both preen.
I slink down in my chair and try to pretend that I'm not grinning too.
* * *
It takes longerthan seventy-two hours. Approximately ninety hours later Justin tackles me onto the bed, bouncing up and down on his knees, his hands fisting in my shirt, confirming that yes, we are having a daughter.
A little girl, Lancaster-Williams.
“She’s gonna have your skin tone and my eyes and Julia's head of curls,” he laughs, kissing me senseless.
I can almost close my eyes and see it.
10
REMI
Now that the holidays are over and the dustup from the revelation of Julia’s pregnancy has mostly settled, the reality of my situation is once again nipping at my heels. The fact is that I’m unemployed, and for the first time in my life, I have zero ideas about what I’m going to do with myself.
We invited Deb over to game plan and lick our wounds together. She’s also the first person we’ve told outside of immediate family that surprise! Julia’s knocked up. Tears were shed, and no, I was not crying! Something was stuck in my eye.
But now that the novelty has worn offthatannouncement as well, we’re back to round-tabling what’s next for “New York’s recently disgraced and outed former billionaire heir,” and the poor assistant he dragged down with him.
“No, rich boy,” Deb says dryly with her chin in her hand, leaning heavily at the end of the dining room table. “I’munemployed.You’reindependently wealthy.”
Mrs. Jones chuckles as she makes another trip around the table, refilling mugs of coffee. J attempts to physically force her into the chair beside him as she saunters past his seat, but the old woman swats his hands away and then pops him upside the head for good measure.
Justin scowls; Mrs. Jones stands up as tall as her diminutive height will allow, and we all wait with bated breath to see who will make the next move. Mrs. Jones’s cold turned into bronchitis which segued into a night in the ER for supplemental oxygen, which has since morphed into an argument of monumental proportions over Amelia’s advisability to continue working as their housekeeper when we’re more than capable of doing our own laundry.
It’s a surprise to no one that the white-haired matron is winning. That hasn’t stopped J from doing everything in his power to ensure the older woman does absolutely nothing in hers.
“Oh, hush you,” she admonishes him when he grumbles under his breath and rubs at the spot she barely smacked. “Youmay be a layabout,” she says primly. She places the mostly empty coffee pot in the middle of the table on a cozy and links her fingers over her front. “ButIam still employed. I’d hate for my employer to catch wind that I’ve been slacking in my responsibilities and write me up for dereliction of duty.”
Justin’s eyes grow wider and wider, his mouth dropping open unattractively as his housekeeper smartly takes him down a size. Julia covers her mouth with both of her hands, failing to hide her giggles.
