Stolen Course(68)

“Thank God we agree.” I pull into the parking spot and waste not a single second planting a kiss on her lips. I hold her against my mouth for longer than necessary, but I try to transfer some of my false confidence. I’m nervous as fuck but still manage to say, “Let’s go meet our foul-mouthed son.”





I HAVE a horrible feeling about this. I know it’s just a simple routine checkup, but I feel like I’m going to puke. The butterflies in my stomach are threatening an all-out revolt. It’s making me edgy, and even Caleb’s being at my side isn’t helping calm my nerves.

“Emma Erickson,” the nurse calls, and I spring to my feet as I hear Caleb groan behind me. I can’t even focus on him long enough to question it.

“That’s me.” I stop in front of her.

“Right this way. I’m going to need you to leave a urine sample then have a seat in the back waiting room. I’ll let ultrasound tech know you are here.”

“Okay,” I reply, hoping to God Caleb was listening to what she said because I’m so distracted I barely even registered her words at all.

“Emmy.” He catches my attention. “Go pee in a cup,” he finishes with a laugh.

“Right.” I head into the bathroom.

When I come back out, I find Caleb standing in the hall staring at a huge board covered with pictures of happy, smiling families. I follow his gaze to a picture of a man sitting on the side of his wife’s hospital bed. Their left hands are crossed, showing off their wedding rings as they hold a wrinkly newborn. It’s a nice picture, but I could do better. I do envy them though.

They probably had time together, a life, a plan. I mean, it’s not exactly like we are teens with an unexpected pregnancy, but the timing is all wrong.

Caleb was right the other night. I wish we had more time together, just the two of us. Part of me wonders if we would even be together if it weren’t for the baby right now. Sure, Caleb said that he was trying to get his shit together before the baby bomb was dropped, but how much time would have passed before he just gave up completely? He’s had to make a lot of changes to be with me. How long before he decides it wasn’t worth it? Now, I have to worry that he’s only here because of the baby. I know he loves me, but where were all of his heartfelt speeches before we fell apart?

While I love him for making it easy for us to get back together, I don’t necessary believe his motives. Caleb has sacrificed more than enough in his life. The last thing I want is for him to sacrifice his future just to do what he thinks is right by our baby. I saw his fake smile in the car today and heard his groan when we were called to the back. He can say whatever he wants to me, but I know that he feels obligated. He’s a good guy. I don’t doubt that for a second

“Hey, I think we’re supposed to wait back there,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. He leads me back to an empty waiting room, proving that he actually was listening to the nurse earlier.

No sooner than we sit down, a different nurse peeks her head around the corner.

“Ms. Erickson?” I immediately stand, but she continues to talk. “We are running a little bit behind this morning. It’s going to be a few minutes, okay?” She kindly smiles, and I give her a quick nod before she’s gone again.

I settle back down into my seat as Caleb picks up a parenting magazine and absently flips through it.

“We need to get married already,” he says randomly with some emotion I can’t pinpoint. Annoyance? Anger? Frustration? Whatever it is, it all leads to the exact same answer.

“Um, no we don’t,” I answer, quickly looking away.

“Excuse me?” he says entirely too loud.

“I said we don’t need to get married. That is the very last thing we need right now.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t want to get married?”

“Wow, was that a proposal?” I ask sarcastically. We are in the middle of a doctor’s office waiting room. This is definitely not the place to be having this conversation.

“Maybe,” he responds with a blank stare aimed over my shoulder.

“You are such a romantic, Caleb Jones. Who knows? Maybe in few years, you can try that again.” I’ve once again resorted to being a smartass.

“A few years?” He jumps to his feet and pushes a hand through his hair. “So let me get this straight. You don’t want to get married?”

“No, not right now. Can you please calm the hell down?”

“What was all the ‘you’re it for me’ bullshit then?

“You are it for me. What the hell is going on?”