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Now that Meredith’s pregnancy nausea has calmed down, we have spent considerable time at The Corner Cafe.
Or, the three of us have.
On a recent lunch break, I watch in curiosity as Jenny approaches our booth with a milkshake of an unknown flavor, a triumphant smile on her face. “Peanut butter shake with a salted caramel swirl and brownie batter chunks,” Jenny announces, carefully setting the tall, old-fashioned soda glass on the table. The very pregnant Meredith wiggles and claps her hands, as happy as she can be.
“You did it! You actually made it for me!” Meredith cries.
Jenny looks so pleased with herself. “I’ve never attempted anything like this. I think I need to put it on the menu as ‘The Baby Bump.’”
I love watching my Meredith indulge in her cravings. I never want to see her minimize her wants and needs. As far as I’m concerned, my life’s mission is to put a smile on her face every day.
I nibble on a slice of blueberry pie while Meredith finishes the milkshake, making near-pornographic guttural noises of pleasure as she scarfs it down.
“Roll me back to the newspaper office, please,” she chuckles after making the entire shake disappear.
“I’m happy to carry you, but you keep insisting on using your own two feet to walk around,” I say, leering over the rim of my coffee mug, noticing the swell of her ever-growing breasts.
She catches me staring and blushes, touching her round stomach.
“Kicking up a storm now,” she says, grinning. The grin turns into a deep yawn, and I notice how tired she looks.
“Baby, l think you should take a nap before you return to work,” I say. I’ve trained myself not to fuss too much about her need to keep working throughout her pregnancy. She doesn’t need another man in her life who gets jealous of her job. But I do insist she rests more.
She pouts at me. “But Holmes needs me to fact-check his story, and you know how long that takes with sports stats.”
Even as she says this, her eyes are drooping.
I come around the table and take her hands, letting her use me as leverage to pull herself out of the booth. “Can’t Franny or Jessica do it?”
She looks at me like I’ve suggested something ridiculous. “Donna isn’t letting Franny proof Holmes’s stuff anymore because of their relationship, and Jessica’s still on her honeymoon.”
I stare at her. “isn’t there anyone else?”
Meredith checks her watch. “Well, it is early. I suppose I could take a nap in the car.”
“No, no woman of mine is taking naps in the car. That’s not going to work at all.”
The two of us are still bickering about her needing a nap when we’re outside the restaurant.
“But we rode to town together. If I go home to nap, you’ll be late getting back to the coffee shop. Or you drop me off there and come back again…no, Nate. Every scenario is a waste of gas,” she says. “Better to finish my work then go home and relax.”
Although we disagree, I love that she’s referring to my apartment at the ranch as “home.”
Meredith’s one-bedroom place in town is mostly packed up now, with all her possessions in boxes. With the baby coming, my apartment at the resort lodge has more than enough room.
Eventually, we’ll need a bigger place, but it will more than suffice for the three of us for a while. And now that Dad and I are on the best terms for the first time in a long time, I like having him close by. There was a time when I never thought I’d say that.
“We can go to your place,” I say. “Problem solved.”
“My stuff is all in boxes,” she says.
“Yes, except for the bed and the pillows,” I say.
Meredith finally relents and texts Donna that she won’t be back for another hour.
“There. You happy now?”
“Very.”
