Page 15 of That Baby (That Boy 3)
We have lots of food at home, but I'm thinking about a cheeseburger and fries from our local sports bar.
"Phillip, what do you think about going to The Lake Bar for dinner tonight?"
"Um, that sounds really good, but I think my mom is cooking something."
"We could eat it tomorrow. I'm dying for one of their bacon burgers and cheese fries dipped in ranch dressing. Doesn't that sound so good?"
"But she cooked."
"What is she making?"
"I'm not sure."
"Danny and Lori will eat it. She and your dad can eat it. Like, we don't have to eat with them every night just because they're staying with us, do we?"
"No, I guess not. You're right."
But Phillip's face lights up when he walks into our house. "Oh, I'm in heaven," he says. "Doesn't that freshly baked bread smell amazing?"
I don't say anything, because all I smell is the overwhelming stench of cooked broccoli.
I make a beeline for our bathroom, hoping if I smell the gingerbread candle in there, it will keep me from getting sick.
Phillip strolls into the bathroom a few minutes later, where he finds me with my nose inside the candle jar.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying not to puke," I reply, the glass causing my voice to have a deeper, echoing tone.
"I'll be glad when this morning sickness stuff is over," he says.
"You're not the only one."
"And I know you wanted a burger, but Mom made my favorite dinner. Her homemade garlic rolls, white chicken pasta, and broccoli. You know how I love that."
"Yeah, I know."
"Tell you what," he says. "We'll go there tomorrow for lunch."
"Okay," I pout. Well, pout as much as possible when your face is stuck in a candle.
"Don't give me that look," he says, sweetly, sliding his arms around my waist. "I love you and I want to make you happy."
I suck in one more deep breath and set the candle down. "I know you do, Phillip."
"And you love garlic rolls."
"Yeah, I'm sure dinner will be great," I lie. "Phillip, um, does it bother you that your mom is sort of taking over our kitchen? Shouldn't she have to ask first? See if we have plans?"
"She's just doing something nice for us."
"Yeah, I know . . . It's just . . . Never mind. Let's go eat."
We're in our dining room eating. Not only has she cooked Phillip's favorite meal, but somehow all of our wedding gifts have disappeared. When I mentioned it to Phillip's mom, she said, "Oh, I thought I'd help you out by putting them away."
And while that's a nice thing to do--help someone--the truth is, I didn't ask for her help. I didn't want her to put them away. I wanted to do it myself, so I could put things where I wanted them to go.
But I can't say that, because I'd sound like an ungrateful brat.
She continues, "And since you don't have a kitchen table, we had to have somewhere to eat."
Which sounds like a slam, directed at me. Like my house isn't good enough. I almost suggest that we go eat at the sports bar like I wanted, but that would probably come off as bitchy.
Danny and Phillip are going on and on about how amazing her dinner is. It's all I can do not to roll my eyes.
Or throw up.
The sauce that I usually love seems too rich, the bread too garlicky, and the broccoli is just gross.
Mrs. Mac is beaming with pride because the boys have eaten about forty rolls apiece.
Danny pats his stomach and says to Phillip, "I wish our wives could cook like this. Although, I'm gonna have to work out longer tomorrow to burn these calories off."
Lori and I share a glance.
Later, she discreetly asks me to come see her kitchen progress and sneaks me out the front door.
The kitchen is still a disaster.
"It's coming together," I say, but then sigh. "I can't compete with homemade rolls."
"Me either," she says. "I don't have a kitchen."
"Would you make homemade rolls if you did?"
"I don't know," she says. "Maybe if I had time. Maybe I should. But I'm different. I'm mostly home all day. You work."
"Yeah, but you're busy. Your house has been in some form of remodeling since you moved in. I'm sure you don't feel settled yet."
"No, not yet. It's been chaotic. Thankfully, our master bedroom is done. And in a few more days, we'll have the home gym to beat all gyms. The sauna is going to be nice, although I can't use it while I'm pregnant, but I'm super excited for the area where I can do yoga."
"You're going to do yoga? But you're so--"
"Were you going to say huge?" she screeches, holding her large bump, which is really too large now to be classified as such.
"Uh, no. I was going to say high strung." Really, I was.
"That's why I want to do yoga--to center myself. I'm taking a prenatal yoga class and I really like it. And inner calmness is good for the baby and me. Did you notice how I was breathing calmly while Danny was going on and on about how good dinner was, when what I really wanted to do was take those garlic rolls and shove them up his ass?"
"Hmm, maybe I do need yoga."
"You should come to class with me. It's at 6am--just down the street."
"6am? Are you freaking kidding me? If you can go around eight, maybe. But back to my problem. What am I going to do about Phillip's mom?"
"I don't know," she says. "There's not much you can do, is there?"
"I don't know either, but I do know I still want a freaking cheeseburger. Wanna go get one?"
"Ooh," she says. "I'd love to. The meal was too garlicky for me. I would have been burping it up all night. Should we take the boys?"
"They may never leave the dining room," I joke.
CHAPTER THREE
Dear Baby Mac,
You are growing like crazy. You've more than doubled in size. Your dad talks to you at night before we go to sleep. It reminds me of when we were young and he would call me every night on the phone. I hope you like the sound of his voice as much as I do. He's amazing. You're really lucky.
Me, on the other hand, we're going on 3 weeks of this permanently hungover feeling.
Except I can't drink.
So far, we're not getting started off on the right foot here.
February 10th
A naked picnic.
"I think I'll go jogging with you this morning, Phillip," I say as he rolls out of bed.
"Really? Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"
"Yeah, I didn't feel as sick yesterday, and I want to try to stay in shape. They say it makes both your delivery and recovery easier. Plus, I miss running."
He pulls me up. "I've missed running with you. Dress warm though, it's pretty chilly."
I put on my winter running gear and follow Phillip out the front door.
"Whooh, it is pretty cold!" I say, practically seeing my breath crystalize before me.
"It's not bad once you get going."
As we're jogging around the lake, Phillip says, "So our one month anniversary is the day before Valentine's Day. I think we should do something special, since it's our first Valentine's Day as a couple."
"You've given me flowers for as long as I can remember."
"That's because I had a big crush on you. Did you have anything you want to do or should I plan something?"
"Let's plan it together. Our anniversary is Tuesday and Valentine's Day is Wednesday."
"Yeah, it's during the week. I was thinking we could take a couple days off. Maybe spend one day looking at baby stuff. I know you've been looking at ideas on how to decorate the nursery. Are you excited to buy all that?"
"I am, Phillip, but I don't want to get anything yet."
"Why not?"
"I'd like to wait until after our ultrasound. Make sure everything is okay."
He nods his head solemnly. "I've been flipping through the pregnancy book. There is a lot that can go wrong, isn't there?"
"Phillip, you're not reading worst-case scenarios for the first trimester, are you?"
He shrugs. "You know I like to be prepared for the worst."
"I don't even want to consider the worst."
"That's fine. You let me worry about all that."
"Is it freaking you out a little?"
"No, not at all. So, back to our anniversary, I was thinking maybe we could go shopping. Maybe get a couple's massage. Come back to our house for some fun."
"Do you remember when we first got together--how we did it in every room in my condo?"
He grins. "Oh, I remember that well. It was like the Around The World basketball game we used to play. Only I was scoring in every room."
"We have a lot more rooms in our new house," I suggest.
"And that's how you want to spend our two days?"
I give a casual shoulder shrug. "It's just a thought. Depends on if we can be alone."
"I'll make sure we are."
"I love the idea of sleeping in, shopping, having a long, leisurely lunch, shopping a little more, then coming home and relaxing. Maybe a picnic in front of our fireplace?"
"A naked picnic?"
"I was thinking you might like to go shopping for some lingerie too."
"Oh, I like that idea. It's a date."
February 13th
All about that lace.
