The Coaching Hours(46)

Dad wouldn’t look at me when he finally came back inside. He asked one thing: “Who did this?” If looks could kill, Rex Gunderson would have been a dead man.

“Not him,” I said.

“Not me! Don’t hurt me!” Rex had his hands up in the surrender position, and if it wasn’t so sad, I would have laughed so hard.

“It’s that roommate of yours, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yes, but I love him.”

“Love.” He snorted. “How is that working out for you? Didn’t that boy move out?”

He was being mean, but I don’t blame him. This is not what he had planned for me. I think if he had known this is how me moving here was going to turn out, he never would have had me come. Never in a million years…

“Obviously you’re going to move back home.”

“I’m not. Right now, I can make it on my own.”

“Because I’m paying your rent.”

“Dad…”

“You have no job, no degree, and your roommate got you pregnant. You are moving home.”

At that moment there was no arguing with him, but for now, I’m still in your house. My house.

We’ll see what happens in a few more months.

I miss you,

Anabelle





Dear Elliot,



It was great hearing your voice on the phone last night. Sorry I sounded so tired—that’s happening a lot lately. I know you bought your own copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Did you know they have websites where you can track your pregnancy progress and read forums? Don’t know if there are any dads lurking among them, but if you’re ever curious, take a peek.

I go on them a lot, mainly to find other young women in my situation, always searching for…something. Normalcy, I guess. I wonder if my life will ever be normal after this.

After the baby is born.

I wonder every day what I’m going to do in the spring—probably get a job and put the baby in daycare. I would rather date that douchebag Eric Johnson than ask Linda to babysit.

It’s important that I do this myself.

It might have been harsh when my mom told me I had to deal with the consequences myself, but she was right. I’ll worry about my plan tomorrow though, I’m so so tired. **yawn** Madison and I have been watching movies together at night, just like you and I would. She crawls into bed with me sometimes, and we watch our shows. I like not being alone—that big bed is lonely.

She and I have been talking about it, and while she really loves me, I don’t think she wants to stay living with me once this baby comes. She likes sleep, LOL. I feel bad but totally understand. Who could blame her?

Anabelle





Elliot,



Well, it’s finally happened. I’m up to two cups of steaming hot chocolate a day. I’m officially addicted! Guess there are worst things to crave, like McDonald’s in the middle of the night, or ice cream. I read that lots of women crave apples—why can’t I want fruit?! It’s so much healthier, but I suppose cocoa is harmless enough, yeah?

Only ONE time this week did I ask Rex to run and fetch me potato chips. Fine, and French onion dip. Seriously though, you can’t eat one without the other, and I was craving it so bad. He must think I’m so gross, I ate almost that entire bag myself—don’t know if that’s something I should be putting in this diary, but I’m trying to be honest.

Nothing says honesty like getting drunk on chips and dip.

My dad and Rex have had a reckoning of sorts, and they’re finally getting along, better than they did when Rex was working for the team as the manager. He and I went over again this weekend, and he helped my dad rake the yard then we all had dinner, mashed potatoes and gravy and OH MY GOD, IT WAS SO GOOD. Did you know Rex is from Iowa, too? He grew up not too far away, and his mom sent me a few bags of really good hot chocolate mix and marshmallows last time he went home. It was so sweet and it is SO GOOD.

Crap, I just realized this entire letter has been about food.

Promise that’s not all I do, LOL. It’s just the only thing I talk about.

I’m not even that big yet. You still can’t tell I’m pregnant, at least not from the back. Maybe from the side, if you’re looking for the bump. I’ll attach a picture.

Love,

Miss you.

Anabelle





Dear Elliot,



I had to break down and buy a new, long puffy coat. My one from last year no longer fits. Thank God I’ve been saving money, because holy cow staying warm is expensive. I’ve been searching for a part-time job, on campus if I can manage it, for some extra spending money. Storing it away like a squirrel.

There is one job that sounds perfect. It’s in the registrar’s office and carries some actual responsibility, which would be nice.

Yesterday I finally had someone ask if I was pregnant, so I guess you CAN tell, LOL. I was taking off my jacket in a contract law class and one of my classmates (a guy) was sort of checking me out from head to toe. When he got to my stomach his whole expression changed. He goes, “Whoa. You’re not knocked up, are you?”

I don’t think I was embarrassed, exactly, more caught off guard because I wasn’t ready for it. I should probably start preparing myself for more of those reactions. Of course he was horrified; we’re in college—who the hell wants to be pregnant? I was his walking, talking, living nightmare. Bet he went home and thanked Jesus he’d never slept with me.

Rex said I should forget about it and that the guy is an idiot, but I thought about it all night, and here I am writing about it, so it must have really bothered me, right? Rex was just being sweet, as usual, trying to take my mind off it.

Last night I caved and let him rub my feet. It felt so good I almost fell asleep while it was happening. I went to his place and instead of going to the movies like we’d planned, we ended up taking it old school and renting a few. Nothing like the early 2000s to bring back a flash of old memories…not to mention that foot rub.

I should totally angle for another one soon—it was bliss.

Have a great weekend. I won’t be around—Madison is springing for a hotel room in the city and we’re going to do some holiday shopping. My goal is to stay off my phone.

Talk soon,

Anabelle





Dear Elliot,



You know, I haven’t wanted to bring this up but it’s been weighing on me. When a woman is twenty weeks pregnant, they can find out if their baby is a girl or a boy, and my obstetrician asked if I wanted to find out. I don’t want to tell you because I know you wouldn’t want me finding out without you, and I know you wouldn’t want Rex to come to the appointment with me.

Madison is no help anymore. She is all over the place, freaking out about final exams, which I should be doing, too, but for whatever reason, I’m retaining EVERYTHING. I swear, this baby is giving me superpowers—I’m soaking up information like a sponge, retaining everything they’re teaching in class. I could recite legal terms blindfolded—next time you call, let’s see if I can actually do it. I’m going to be the best friggin’ lawyer.

If I ever have time to become one. Haha.

It’s freezing here, but I won’t talk to you about that. I saw on the news last night Michigan is getting slammed with bad weather. Eight inches of snow in one night?! That’s crazy. Do you ski? You’re in the perfect state for it. I used to go when I was a teenager, but never when it was below twenty degrees. Probably because one year, I stayed out in the cold too long and one of my big toes got frostbite. Was that too much information?? LOL, it seemed relevant to the conversation.

Back to the point, I’m dying to know if it’s a girl or a boy. How do you feel about that? How do you feel about not being here?

Rex said you probably wouldn’t care since you’re not here anyway, but I have no desire to add that to the list of things I already feel guilty about.

Anabelle





Elliot,



I felt it kick yesterday for the first time.

A real kick, not a flutter. It startled me. I was in class, taking notes (remember my superpowers?), focused on the professor’s lecture when it happened. My hand flew to my stomach and I held my breath. I know it sounds dramatic, but it kind of was. It’s all becoming so real now that I’m showing and can feel movement. It’s surreal. I feel big as a house even though I know I’m not, not like I will be in January or February.

Did I tell you your mom reached out to me? You should have warned me! Not that I mind because I don’t—of course not. She called and was so sweet it made me cry (everything does lately, so that’s nothing new, haha). She asked a bunch of questions about myself, how I felt, and wanted to know when she could meet me. I’ve never been so relieved after a phone call in my entire life, Elliot, I almost passed out, holding my breath when I heard the sound of her voice. She introduced herself as Baby Gramma, LOL. Seriously, she was so funny and nice. So, thank you for giving her my number. I’d hug you right now if I could.

When do you come home? I hope the weather cooperates.

I worry about you each and every day.

Miss you so much (and that’s not just the hormones talking),

Your baby mama





Elliot,



I had lunch with your mom and sister, Beth, today. Did they tell you? God, I was so nervous. I may or may not have been sick in the bathroom before leaving the house (Spoiler alert: I vomited). Why do you suppose I was more panicked meeting your family than I was telling my dad? I wasn’t even as scared to tell you, but I freaked out when I arrived at the restaurant and it took forever for me to walk inside.