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I smile. Not so much for the text content, but because it’s the first time Marissa has initiated an exchange as opposed to just replying to me.
To Marissa:
My, my, Mayer, texting in the middle of the workday
From Marissa:
It’s basically a pre-holiday
To Marissa:
Anyway, now I know why I was feeling so exhausted
From Marissa:
???
To Marissa:
From running through your head all day, can’t stop thinking about me?
From Marissa:
No, you’re right, the slight nausea is a constant reminder your spawn is growing inside me
I chuckle at that.
To Marissa:
Don’t offend our little olive
The baby has progressed from a tiny seed to small fruit.
To Marissa:
And eat crackers
From Marissa:
You eat crackers
To Marissa:
Not foodie enough, I need at least homemade kale chips
From Marissa:
You’re disgusting
A knock on the door makes me look up from the phone screen.
“Come in,” I say.
A nurse pokes her head in the doorway. “Mrs. Taylor is at nine centimeters. You said to call you when she got close to ten.”
“I’ll be right there.”
To Marissa:
