Page 14 of Sin Wagon
He takes a sip. "Kinda sweet but it’s good. Thanks."
"No problem." I pull out my muffin and take a big bite.
"Damn girl, you’re still hungry?" He raises both brows in mock surprise.
I flip him off. "It’s not me, it’s Boba, so shut up." My words are muffled through the mouthful.
Derek throws his head back, laughing as he pulls back out onto the road.
You’re lookingat the newest employee at Alice in Brewland, the new coffee shop in town. The one we stopped at after the ultrasound last week and I applied. Today, they called to tell me I got the job. I have to wear a blue dress with a white apron and black and white knee-high stockings every day like it’s Halloween. But they didn’t care that I was pregnant or that I’d have to take off the week of Claudia’s wedding. So I’ll take it while I continue to bust my ass working on my marketing business.
I went and picked up my uniform, filled out all my hiring paperwork, and came home to try the god awful thing on in privacy. Well, with Derek but that’s almost the same thing.
I thought he was going to fall over laughing when he saw me in it, but after one scathing glare, he shut the hell up.
“I’m sorry babe but it’s funny and ironic that you’re wearing the exact type of outfit you despise, one that Claudia would have loved for you to wear in high school, and now here you are.”
“I hate you so much right now.” I glare at him.
“You wish you could.” He smiles. “I better get going though. I just wanted to see you in… that.” He motions his finger up and down and I bite the air at him.
“If you were having a gender reveal this could be your team boy outfit!” He laughs louder and I want to choke him.
“Har har.” I narrow my eyes.
Derek has been well-behaved and hasn’t spilled the beans on if Little Boba is a he or she. But he has used every opportunity to tell me he bought something and ask if I think it’s pink or blue. I keep reminding him that genders don’t have assigned colors and then he squeals at me for being logical and ruining his fun, but I know what he means.
My phone rings and I grab it, groaning when I see it’s Claudia… again.
She’s been blowing my phone up, wanting to talk, but I’m ignoring her. I don’t feel like dealing with condescending words or verbal abuse. There are many more important things to do than talk to her. She did ask if she could throw me a baby shower, which I declined rapidly, but she wanted to know what I wanted her and ‘Daddy’ to get me. I told her I’d let her know if I find something I think will fit her standards because Lord knows she won’t just send diapers or swaddle blankets like a normal human being. She’ll want something expensive to show off to her friends.
“That’s my cue. Bye, babe. Bye, Boba! Oh and don’t forget we have that appointment later this month to check out that labor coach!”
“I won’t.”
He hurries from my apartment and I flop onto the couch staring at my phone as it continues to ring.
My birthday is next month on the twentieth and Derek has taken it upon himself to find the best way for us to celebrate sober and Little Boba friendly. So far, I know we’re going to the spa at the MayDay for a mani/pedi and a prenatal massage, but everything after that is a surprise. We’ve also started talking about baby names, which is funny since Derek knows what the baby is, so he knows which name will be chosen; well, unless I change my mind before giving birth, which is totally possible.But as of right now, if I have a boy, I’m leaning toward Channing Wells, and for a girl, Posey Grace.
I know Wells doesn’t know he’s going to be a dad, through no fault of his own, unless not calling the girl you fuck in an alley after she’s done stripping is a crime. But I want the baby to have a piece of him. That way, if he ever happens to find out, he knows not telling him wasn’t intentional. I just wish he’d call; he doesn’t have to like me for anything more than a fuck. Even if he called to hook up when he was back in town, at least he’d be calling and I could tell him.
That’s a problem for a later time. There’s nothing I can do about it now. So I’m going to buy myself some baby stuff for my birthday online and call it a day. I want the Twelvelittle Peekaboo backpack bag in olive green. I think a diaper bag is a smart gift; I need it for the baby and I want it, so it’s a win-win.
After I pay for my bag, I remember that one of the girls from Hidden Gems sent me a link for a stroller she swears by earlier today. So I find the message and click it.
Holy shit!
This isn’t a stroller, it’s a fucking luxury fancy-ass wagon. A stroller wagon, from what the website says. You don’t pull it; you push it and it has a canopy and seats, and goddamn, it’s nine hundred dollars. But now that I’ve seen it, I can’t help but picture Derek or I pushing Little Boba in it at zoos, aquariums, and festivals.
I copy and paste the link into the message thread with Claudia.
Me: Baby and I would love this Wonderfold Wagon W4 in charcoal.
Claudia: Ordered, anything else I can get?
Christ,the woman just spent a thousand dollars and wants to get more?
Me: No
