Page 86 of Saving Barrette

She ruffles my hair, winking. “Me too, Bear.”

I snort at her use of her pet name for me and know that we’re gonna be okay.

8 Months Later

Glendale, Arizona

State Farm Stadium

Pittsburgh Steelers Vs. Arizona Cardinals

“Holy shit, it’s like an oven outside!” Joey says, closing the door to the suite.

“Try being here in August,” I tease, handing Crew his snacks and then turning back to my pregnant best friend who I haven’t seen in months. Not since their wedding in August. Not long after Terrell was drafted, they moved to Pittsburgh. Joey’s back in school at the University of Pittsburgh working on her master’s in neuropsychology. “I can’t believe how much I missed you!”

Joey hugs me to her chest. “Not as much as I missed you.” She grins and glances at my very pregnant belly. Yep. Baby number two on the way. “When you’re pregnant, you look similar to a normal-sized person.” I laugh, and her eyes drift to the rock on my finger. The one talked about in all the tabloids and gossip magazines. The one the star quarterback of the Arizona Cardinals bought his wife when he knocked her up the second time. “Can you even lift that finger?”

“Oh, stop. It’s not that big.”

“Yes, it is.”

Between having Crew, Asa entering the draft and then signing with Arizona… let’s just say I’m not sure I remember much from the last few years. Other than raising a baby. Is it weird to say I feel whole pregnant? I know, bizarre thought, but I do. I don’t have nightmares. Not a single one while I’m pregnant. Asa finally made me whole again by putting his baby in me. I know, that sounds so completely wrong, but it’s true.

Asa and I moved to Phoenix in late April right after training camp began and bought a house, and then I got pregnant. Again. While I’m literally due any day now, I’m still going to school too, trying to get my master’s in psychology. I had been volunteering at a local women’s clinic where I assisted a sexual assault counsellor in Phoenix. I’d like to go as far as to say that I’m whole and healed and nothing fazes me anymore after five years, but every time I heard a victim’s story, it brought me back to that night. I didn’t want to relive it anymore. I wanted to move forward, but I also wanted the strength to know that just because it happened to me, it didn’t define the rest of my life. For about three months I pushed through, but when my mood started changing and depression begin to hit, I knew I needed to make a change. Not only for me, but for my family. I couldn’t go down that road again.

For that reason, I had to separate myself from it. I’m still pursuing psychology, but I’ve switched focus to developmental psychology. It helps with learning how my almost two-year-old son can be so sweet one moment and throw himself down on the floor next and scream bloody murder over his fruit snack stuck to his shirt.

Joey laughs and rubs her swollen belly. “He reminds me of Asa.”

I frown. “Why, because they both throw fits over their food?” It’s true. If Asa doesn’t have food every two hours, he’s the clinical definition of hangry, if that was a real word.

“I can’t believe we only play each other once a year,” Joey says, taking a seat next to the window overlooking the field where the Steelers are warming up.

“I know.” Crew is at my feet, still crying over his fruit snacks stuck to his shirt.

Joey glances over at him and rubs her swollen belly. “I seriously can’t wait to have this baby.”

“Ha.” I move to sit next to her, realizing how incredibly uncomfortable and hungry I am. I swear, I never stop eating when I’m pregnant. “Ready for nonstop crying?”

“He doesn’t cry that much.” She picks Crew up and places him on her lap. “I’m just really ready to be a mom, you know?”

I look at Crew, who’s smiling, and I know exactly what she’s talking about. I never thought being a mother would make me feel this way. The day I had Crew, Asa left me a mason jar in the hospital room with the quote:

Of course it made me cry because I feared being a mom. God, did I fear it. And I don’t even know why I did. Maybe because of my parents’ lack of… caring, I thought for sure I wouldn’t know how to love the baby, but the moment I saw his face, I knew just like with Asa, I was born to love another brown-eyed boy.

“Are you guys still waiting to find out the sex of the baby?”

Joey grins and digs inside her purse for what looks to be two onesies and pulls them out. “We found out last week, but I wanted to tell you in person. I got Scout something from his baby cousin.” Yes, we call our kids cousins.

Scout is the name Asa picked out for the new baby boy I’m carrying around in my belly. One of the onesies is pink and reads: Did we just become best friends? And the other is blue and reads: Yep!

“A girl!” I gush, hugging her one-armed. “Oh my God, how the hell is Terrell going to tell her no when she asks for money?”

Joey laughs. “I’m sure he won’t even bat an eye to it. Nothing’s breaking that man. I’ve tried. But hey, you never know. Maybe she’ll crack him.”

“Daddy!” Crew yells, jumping off Joey’s lap and onto the ground. He presses his face to the glass. “Daddy!”

He doesn’t say Mommy. He calls me M or you. But that’s okay, I love him enough for the both of us and wouldn’t change a thing about his stubborn, cranky butt. It’s amazing to me how kids can be the biggest monsters and we still love them despite it.

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