“Nope.” He carries me into the bedroom and less-than-gracefully deposits me on the bed. His body quickly covers mine, and I turn my head, anticipating a kiss that I have plans to avoid. “Maybe I didn’t say this the right way. It’s weird that you’re pregnant because I just got you back, and I’m a selfish prick who doesn’t want to share you with anyone. Not even our baby. It’s stupid and childish, but I worry that when he or she gets here it will change things. So right now, I’m embracing just being us, and I’ll worry about the baby later.”
“You don’t have a whole lot of time before later becomes now.” I give him some bitchy attitude.
“Look at you, all pissed off,” he says, laughing.
“Of course I’m pissed off. I’m terrified, and I feel like I’m in this alone,” I admit not only to Caleb but to myself as well.
“You’re not alone, sweetheart.”
“Well it sure feels like that. You don’t talk about the baby—ever.”
“It’s been a month, Emmy. Give me some time to warm up.”
“Where is my time to warm up? My whole life has already changed and it’s just going to change more. What if you realize you can’t handle this? I’m not sure I can do this on my own.” I begin to work myself up into a frenzy.
“Babe, calm down. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to love that baby more than any human has ever loved before. It’s just going to take some getting used to the idea. This is why pregnancy is nine months long. Assholes like myself need time to adjust. I promise. It will be all right. I love you. You’re it for me, remember?” He places a gentle kiss to my lips that immediately soothes me.
“This is just really hard. I don’t even feel like myself. For the love of God, I can’t stop crying all the time!” I yell, and I know he wants to laugh. I can see it on his face, but like a good man, he keeps it in.
“So what names do you like?” he asks.
I’m positive he doesn’t want to have this conversation right now, but the fact that he is willing to ask for my sake makes me melt into his side.
“Collin for a boy. Laurel for a girl.”
“Humm... Let’s keep thinking on those.” He smirks, and I pinch his chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Of course.” He places a deep kiss to my lips while dropping his hand to rest on my stomach. “It’s me and you forever, Emmy. Anything else is just a bonus at this point. This is it.” He gives a content sigh.
“This is it,” I repeat back to him.
“YOU NERVOUS?” she asks as we drive to the doctor. Immediately I feel like a dirt bag for not asking her the same question. World’s best father sitting right here.
Emma has a doctor’s appointment today and insisted I come. This whole baby thing is crazy town. I’m thirty-fucking-three years old. I should be able to handle a baby. Hell, I should have a whole house full of kids at this age, but for some reason, this baby scares the shit out of me. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. I’ve always wanted kids, but I just feel like this is all wrong. Right woman, but the completely wrong time.
Little Collin or Laurel Jones will be entering the world in less than six months. At least those are the names as far as Emma is concerned. I have something a little edgier up my sleeve. Maybe something where my son won’t have to wear a pocket protector, and my daughter…oh fuck that! I don’t even want to think about having a daughter.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I’m fine,” she answers with a weak smile.
I want to shut down and pretend like none of this is happening, but based on our conversation a few days ago, I need to be there for her.
“Liar.” I look over, flashing her a funny grin. I pray to the Lord it’s not as forced as it feels, but based on her deflated reaction, I know it is. “So tell me what’s going to happen. This is my first ever gynecology appointment, you know.” I chuckle at my own joke, but Emma sits emotionless beside me. “Hey,” I say to catch her attention. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“Sorry. I’m just really anxious and…worried. The nurse said they were going to do an ultrasound today. What if something’s wrong?”
“Emmy, that is our baby you are talking about. It is way too stubborn for anything to be wrong. It’s probably already cussing and telling dirty jokes.”
“No, he isn’t!” she yells.
“He?” I lift a questioning eyebrow.
“It needs to be a boy. You can’t handle a daughter.” She finally gives me a true Emma Jane smile, and just that one flash of her immediately calms my nerves.