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Track 28: “Big Ten Inch Record” by Aerosmith
Two days later, I was still drunk off the high of that night.
I hadn’t seen much of Abby the morning after I’d pleasured her in my guest room, since we’d been late getting to the office. Then she’d gone straight to the inn that evening after work, and she’d worked from home on Friday. True to form, I’d kept my distance on Friday evening as I pondered how to handle things moving forward now that I’d royally fucked up the plan.
But now it was Saturday, and I couldn’t wait any longer to see her. I called my cousin as I drove out to Westfordshire on this brisk September afternoon to fill him in on the latest…happenings.
“What’s up, Sigmund?” he said when he answered.
“We have a problem.”
“Actually, I can guarantee you my problem is bigger. I was just about to call you.”
Alarmed, I slowed my car. “Everything okay, mate?”
“No. Not in the least.” He let out a long breath into the phone. “I mean, everyone is healthy. Nothing like that. But my biggest nightmare just happened.”
“Don’t scare me. What the hell is going on?”
“Remember the little baby girl Felicity is carrying that we’re naming Britney?”
My stomach dropped. “Yeah?”
“Well, apparently, she is ahe. They made an error during the earlier ultrasound. We just had a follow-up, and it clearly showed a little knob this time.”
Holy shit.“A son? Congratulations! Why are you upset? This is monumental news. Now your family name will continue.”
“I was hoping my child could avoid the stressors I had growing up. This poor little guy is the next Duke of Westfordshire, and he doesn’t even know it.”
“I doubt you’re going to put the same pressure on him as your father did you.”
He sighed. “True, but there are some pressures inherent to the title. They’re unavoidable.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Your mother must be over the moon. All she’s ever wanted was an heir.”
“I haven’t told her yet. I’m not in the mood to experience her satisfaction. Let her think it’s a girl for a few more days.”
“How is Felicity taking it?”
“She’s handling it better than I am.”
“You’ll get used to the idea. How many more weeks do you have to go?”
“Just two. I truly don’t understand how this happened. He was breech, in a weird position, for the last ultrasound, so they couldn’t see clearly. He finally turned around this time, and there was his willy.”
“I feel for you, mate, but this was meant to be. And it’s kind of nice knowing the Covington name will live on.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll admit, I’m excited to have a son despite my fears.” He sighed again. “Anyway…what was the problem you called about?”
My lack of self-control seemed trite now. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“Sigmund, what’s going on?”
“Something went down between Abby and me.”
“Something...”
“Well, more specificallyIwent down.”
