Page 49 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
“How do you know that?” Jordan asked, raising an eyebrow.
The twins shared a look.
“Math!” the girls giggled in unison.
“How about Talya and I take Mia and Mya to get some ice cream down the block,” Simon offered.
“It’s on me,” Maureen said, rapidly plucking a few bills from her purse and handing them to the teen.
“Who’s ready for a triple scoop?” Talya asked as the twins bounced from their seats and followed the teens out the door as the adults crowded in.
“This is incredible news! How are you feeling?” Maureen asked.
Georgie glanced around the group. This was not how she’d envisioned telling their friends and family—and there was still the issue of telling her mother—but there was no turning back now.
“I’m doing pretty well. I want to eat pineapple all the time, and I threw up on a guy’s shoes this morning,” she answered.
“That sounds about right,” Irene said with a bemused twist to her lips.
“For me, it was cottage cheese with olives and potato chips mixed in,” Maureen offered with a grimace. “I can’t even look at cottage cheese now.”
Denny patted Jordan’s leg. “When your mother was pregnant with you, all she wanted was scrambled eggs. She ate them morning, noon, and night.”
“Was this planned?” Marjory asked.
Georgie sighed. “No, not at all. I could hardly believe it was true until we saw the baby on the ultrasound.”
Jordan pulled the grainy photo from his pocket and passed it to his dad and Maureen.
“Your mother must be over the moon. Will she and Howard be joining us tonight?” Maureen asked, handing the photo to the Gilberts.
Georgie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “My mom’s not in Denver. She’s in India with Howard at a spiritual retreat.”
“Are they coming home soon?” Gene Gilbert asked, handing the photo to Irene and Will.
“Not yet. We wanted to wait to tell them,” she said, going for pregnancy-casual but sounding more pregnancy-asshat.
“Oh,” Maureen replied with a crease to her brow.
Oh,was right. Was she the worst daughter in the world? Possibly? Absolutely?
No, she couldn’t bethe worst.
After they had a handle on the pregnancy thing, they would tell her mother.
“We’re still trying to wrap our heads around it. Georgie’s not that far along, and we still have so much to learn. Fortunately, we’re involved in a project to help us get there,” Jordan answered, white knighting it again and blessedly, turning the talk away from her mother.
“A project?” Denny repeated.
“With CityBeat. They’re launching a site for pregnancy and child development blogs called CityBeat Rattle,” Jordan replied.
Gene narrowed his gaze. “What’s your part in all that?”
Georgie recycled her beauty queen grin. “We’re competing in the Battle of the Births.”
“The what?” the entire group exclaimed, shock gracing their faces.
Imagine if they’d kept it the Battle of the Babies!
