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Katy and her husband come downstairs with the kids, Mom and Teresa go back to the house to bring our pies over, and we all eat dessert perched on the living room furniture or sitting on the rug. Well, they eat. I’m content not having to rush away for another one-on-one with the toilet.
The atmosphere finally gets fully festive with the popping of corks and the pouring of drinks, lively chatter, and the kids playing together in the living room. Until, with full bellies and drowsy expressions, everyone starts to leave. John’s sister goes first as Eric is already passed out in his father’s arms. Nora goes with them to have a sleepover with her older cousin, Leslie, who she seems to worship.
Then my parents and Teresa make to leave. My sister gives me a questioning, raised eyebrow, meaning: Are you coming, or hanging back with the hot doctor?
“I’ll be over in a minute,” I tell her.
At which point, John’s mother not-so-subtly elbows her husband and they go, too, leaving me sitting on the couch alone with John.
He gives me a wide grin.
“What are you smiling about?” I ask. “Today was a disaster!”
“At least now we don’t have to worry about Christmas. And I’m glad Nora was happy she’s having a sibling.”
My shoulders loosen. “Yes, she was the sweetest.” I flash John a teasing smirk, adding, “I really can’t tell where she gets it from.”
“Oof, Mayer. So why did you stay behind? You want to do a sleepover?”
“Nope.”
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It’s an unspoken tradition that whenever Teresa is home for the holidays, I also sleep at home in my old bedroom. So that the whole family can have breakfast together in the morning. Two or three nights at home is the max we can make it without stepping on each other’s toes. But for a short time, it’s nice to be back to having Mom fussing over us and taking care of us and spoiling us with her food—at least, food was nice before the beta hCG ruined my digestive system.
“Goodnight kiss, then?” John asks.
“You don’t want to kiss me tonight, trust me.” I brushed my teeth twice already using a spare toothbrush John lent me, but I can’t help but still feel tainted by all the puke.
“How’s the nausea?” John asks, following my unspoken train of thought.
“Better, but still in the background.”
“It will go away, I promise. And in the end—”
“Don’t say it will all have been worth it because if I hear somebody else say it, I’m going to murder them.”
“If not for cuddles, or goodnight kisses, why did you stay behind?”
“To have a quiet moment with you.”
He stares at me intensely. “Careful, Mayer, I could get a big head.”
“I’m sorry for today,” I say, ignoring the intensity of his gaze and the different kind of unease it’s causing in my stomach. “I know this is not how we’d planned to tell everyone. And it’s my fault for wanting to wait.”
“Mari.” He grabs my hands. “It’s not your fault, and although your dad was pretty scary for a minute back there, I think it went well. Everyone seemed to be happy for us and the baby, despite the weirder-than-weird circumstances.”
“We don’t do simple, do we?”
“Simple isn’t fun.”
I stand up. “I’m going to go now. I don’t want the gossip mill to start running again. Can you believe my mother saw us on Halloween and didn’t say a word until today?”
“Well, you shouting we never ever had sex not once in our lives clarified that point.” John walks me to the door and puts one of his coats on me. “It’s too cold for you to go out just in that flimsy dress.”
Slowly, he fastens the buttons of the overlarge coat, eyes never leaving mine. Having him dress me shouldn’t be sensual. He’s putting clothes on me, not removing them. Still, I can’t help the humming tingle that spreads all over my skin.
He pulls up the collar next, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “See you tomorrow, Mayer.”
“I didn’t say I was coming over tomorrow.”
