Page 101 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
She parted her lips to say…
Say what?
Sorry for that freak-out, but spiders are real asshats.
She wracked her brain, searching for the appropriate thing to say after a near homicidal outburst, when the smack and chomp of a goat chewing caught her attention. She glanced at the animal to find the last bit of their reveal envelope dangling from its mouth.
The room remained dead quiet, with only the thumps of the goats padding around and munching on her child’s gender. She hugged Faby to her chest, then felt a warm hand press against her back.
Without even looking, she knew it was Jordan. But she couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t look at anyone. She’d hung all her hopes on this day. For weeks, she’d thought of it as not only the day she’d learn her child’s gender but also the day when she could come clean to her mother.
Why was this difficult? What was she frightened of? People got pregnant every day.
People announced their pregnancies in a myriad of ways.
Why was she making this so hard?
Her eyes burned as angry, humiliated tears threatened to spill.
“Georgie, babe,” Jordan said as if he were addressing a wounded bird.
She handed the fake baby to her husband, tried not to see the worry in his eyes, then ran out of the barn like a pregnant bat out of hell.
Because, as much as she teased her husband about his competitive streak and always wanting to win, she was the one who needed a win today.
And she’d needed it badly.
Instead, just like with the VR simulator challenge, they’d failed.
Again.
