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“What did I just say?”
“That I’m it for you.” I gulp the words out through a hiccup, and he laughs, pulling me into a tight hug. Lifting me off the floor and swinging me around again.
“Well, you are,” he says, breath warm against my ear.
“You’re it for me too,” I mumble into his shoulder.
He stops and pulls back. “Yeah?” His voice is quiet and scratchy, like he’s fighting a lump inhisthroat. But it’s a question too. Maybe he’s never been anyone’s “it.” He’s given in relationships and never got much back in return. I want to change all that.
I lean in and kiss his lips. “There’s no doubt about that. You’re wonderful.”
He looks at me with wide eyes like he can’t believe I just said that.
30
Kate
Two weeks of August leak away in a daze of sick people, sick mornings, and hot nights. Fabian and I agree we’re not telling anyone until I’m twelve weeks along, and the scan at the ob-gyn’s office has confirmed I’m about eleven weeks now. Eleven weeks! Lying on the bed while the doctor ran the ultrasound over my stomach, I could see the tiny heartbeat thumping out like a drumbeat, and it was all I could do to fight down the tears when Fabian’s hand gripped mine so tightly as he leaned forward to peer at the screen. Then he stood with his hands on his hips and lectured me about finishing my residency and about him looking after the baby, and he’s right, but I also don’t want to miss the first few years of our son or daughter’s life. What has my life become, talking about these kinds of things with him? Oh, and morning sickness? Ugh. It deserves all the swearwords I’ve ever known. Every day it burns through my stomach, and I’m shoveling packets of crackers down to keep it at bay, and thank God nobody at work has noticed.
I’m desperate to share with Jo and Liss … Georgie too. At the moment, it’s my thrilling secret, the calm before I have to face the reality of what this all means—how difficult life will become. But after another week goes by, I’m close to exploding. It’s not been easy hiding things, and when Jo calls to suggest we all meet in the McNally coffee shop for our usual catchup, it feels like I can’tnottell them. I need to build up to other people’s reactions; the very idea of telling my parents gives me stomach cramps.
I spot Jo’s red hair bent next to Liss’s dark curls as I weave through the tables toward them in our little sanctuary.
“It’s so good to see you guys,” I say on a warm exhale when I reach their table and they both look up.
“Are you ever at our apartment?” Liss tuts at me with a broad grin.
Heat creeps up my cheeks: I go days without talking to her when I’m at Fabian’s.
“I’m a crappy friend.”
But she just shakes her head, still smiling. “You’re spending every night being shagged senseless by the hottest man on the planet. You know I can’t believe that good-girl, hardworking Kate ended up with a guy like that. That deliciously dangerous vibe, and all those tattoo scripts …” She fans herself with her hand. “You’re going to have to tell us some day about where they all go, in detail.”
I laugh at her emphasis.
“Preferably with photographs.” She pauses and leans forward. “Naked photographs.”
“You’re incorrigible.” I look down at my hands for a minute, and then I look up to see them both smiling at me like a couple of happy chipmunks and my throat gets tight as I wave my hand at them.
“Actually, I’ve got some news.”
Jo’s face morphs into a delighted grin. “A crazy proposal?” she says.
“A crazy pregnancy.” It just bursts out of me, and their faces shift in the blink of an eye. There’s a long, long pause.
“Holy shit,” Liss says, mouth gaping. “Seriously?”
But Jo launches herself onto me, pulling me into the tightest hug before leaning back to look at me.
“My God, Kate, are you pleased?”
I bury my face in my hands. “Oh God, I am. It’s crazy and so much the wrong time and not planned”—I suck in a deep breath—“but …” I place my hand on my stomach. “I just keep imagining a little boy with serious gray eyes and dark curls.”
“Oh my God!” Jo says, pulling me into a hug again.
Liss launches herself at me too, until we’re all in a heap on a chair, mumbling and laughing. The couple at the next table stare over at us.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe it,” Liss says, as they both sink back down. “Our first pregnancy. Can I touch?”
