Page 104 of Rebound
“What about Nihal?”
“No commitment yet.”
“Would you resent him if he stayed on?”
I frown and shake my head. “Fuck no. I think I’d be really happy for him if he kept going. Hockey is all we’ve known for so many years, I don’t want to be the reason he gives it up.”
Dominic watches me for a moment and nods. “You told Tamara?”
“Yeah. Like my depression, she’s really supportive of whatever I want to do. I know she’s not saying it to make me happy and will show up no matter what I do.”
“So you trust her with this, but not with everything else?”
I sneer at him and he grins. The asshole. “This is why I prefer video calls.”
With a laugh, he switches topics and we go through the rest of my homework from last week and he sends me off.
Standing outside the Bold Lines office, I lean against my bike and watch the entrance. At our last appointment, Dr. Gopalan gave us information for antenatal classes. Apparently it’s something all new parents do to get a handle on what it’ll be like once the baby is born. I did my research on what happens in these classes and discovered it’s actually quite helpful. There’s a lot we need to know—techniques and information that will be really useful. Tamara insisted she knows how to hold and feed a baby. I know nothing, so she’s generously attending these classes with me.
The door slides open and a bunch of people step out. I tuck my sunglasses into the front of my shirt and straighten up as Tamara walks out from behind the group. She’s in light blue baggy jeans and a large printed shirt. Her hair’s piled on top of her head, sunglasses sliding down her perfect nose. She’s scowling at her phone, unaware I’m watching her, as her thumbs move over the screen. When my phone pings a few times and then rings, she looks up and spots me. Her expression changes instantly and I laugh.
Speed-waddling, she comes over and loops her arms around my waist. Her face presses into my chest, I kiss the top of her head and inhale the scent of her. Even after a full day of work, she looks, smells and feels like heaven. She tilts her head back and puckers her lips. I oblige by pressing my mouth to hers and a soft giggle escapes her lips.
“Did you have a good day, Lo?”
“I did! Started drawing up final plans for Julia Christopher today,” she says with a wide smile.
After everything she went through to meet the famous baker, I’m glad she was selected to build and design Julia Christopher’s new space. In a way, I’m grateful to Ms. Christopher. She’s the reason Tamara and I have found our way back to each other. The reason why I can kiss and hold her. And remind her she’s my whole fucking world.
We step out of the hug and I hand her the helmet which she tugs over her head without complaint or struggle. In the last few months, she’s gotten good at being prepared for a ride. As I tie the bandana and adjust my helmet, she swings one leg over the side and straddles the motorcycle. I follow minutes later, waiting until her hands grip the sides of my shirt before I start driving.
It takes us fifteen minutes to reach the centre and as I find a place to park my bike, Tamara goes inside to sign us in. I join her a few minutes later and smile at the lady she’s speaking to. The entry way is deceiving, the chatter and sheer number of people are blocked behind a door. But once we’re through that, it gets really loud and chaotic. There are tons of families walking in and out of rooms, soft music pumping through speakers battling for volume control and of course people calling out names of patients. It’s a lot. I’m not one to be triggered by sounds or large crowds, I play in stadiums full of screaming fans for a living.
But today is different.
The itchiness under my skin during therapy returns and I clench my fists to keep the sensation at bay. My body knows what’s coming and so does my brain, but I refuse to collapse right now. This isn’t a crucial part of our pregnancy, but it’s still one that will make a huge difference for us once the baby arrives.
“Hi Patrick,” the lady says, shaking my hand. “I’m Laxmi, welcome to your first ever antenatal class. You look overwhelmed.”
I laugh nervously. “I’m actually fascinated by the number of people here,” I say, honesty in every word even if I’m hiding behind the statement.
She looks over her shoulder. “You’ll be surprised by how many new parents need the help and guidance. Are you two ready to get started?”
I follow her and Tamara to an office tucked into the side of the main room. She pulls out chairs for us and then slips into another one behind a small desk. She turns an iPad towards us and smiles. Tamara’s hand finds mine and I squeeze.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about. This is probably the easiest and most fun part of your pregnancy. What we do in these classes is understand your birth plan, teach you about all the things your body goes through for the next few months and prepare you for your big day,” Laxmi explains, swiping through various slides.
“We don’t have a birth plan,” Tamara says with a frown.
“That’s okay. We can help you put one together. I’ve worked with Dr. Gopalan’s patients before and we’ll find one that works for you.”
My head bobs in a nod, but I’m in the usual out-of-body phase. Sounds muffle and when I try to blink, my eyes are too dry and unable to do their job. I turn to Tamara and her mouth is moving, but I can’t hear a damn thing. My chest is caving in and I finally close my eyes. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I give myself a few minutes and when I feel another squeeze around my hand, I exhale loudly. Slowly, my eyes open and Laxmi’s gone. But Tamara’s watching me worriedly.
“Patrick?”
Fuck. “Sorry, Lo.”
“Are you okay, honey?”
