Page 47 of Rebound
He nods. “I will be. You feeling better?”
I’m partly to blame for his current mood and I could fix it by tearing down my walls. But this man has so much power over me, I could break. My head jerks in a nod and I use my plastic fork to make holes in the momos so they cool down.
“The calendar on my laptop notified me about the appointment after I ignored it at home and I fell into a hole of research. Bad idea,” I say with a sheepish laugh. “I read the articles about what could go wrong in the first trimester, what should happen by the time we’re at this stage. Apparently the baby should be moving soon, but I haven’t felt anything yet. Then one spiral led to another and I panicked.”
I don’t tell him I spent a really long time wondering if I’d miscarried again. If I was cursed by the universe never to be a mother. The first time scared and scarred me, so if I lost another baby, I might give up entirely.
“Shit, Tamara. Why would you do that?”
“I wanted to know what we were walking into. Don’t you wanna know?”
“I looked it up too, but I was doing it so you wouldn’t have to.”
“What, why?”
He sighs and does what I did with the fork, then crosses his thick arms over his chest. “You’ve always been the panic-first-ask-questions-later type of person. I figured that hasn’t changed. So I thought if I read up on what the appointment is going to be about then I could be there for you when you needed me. You don’t need to add shit to your plate, Lo. Let me carry that.”
“Patrick…that’s not wh—” the young girl comes back with another plate and a small bowl of sauce. She sets the drinks on a separate stool and smiles before running away. I pull everything closer so it’s easy for both of us to reach. “Look, you’re not here to carry things I don’t want to, okay? We’re in this together.”
He shoves an entire momo into his mouth and frowns, using the food as an excuse not to speak. I roll my eyes and take a bite of mine. In a way, I love that he took the effort to research and understand what to expect. But I don’t want him to be anxious on my behalf. Nothing good comes of both of us being total wrecks when we go into the appointment.
“Together doesn’t mean you have to look at the hard shit, baby.”
“But why should you?”
He huffs and eats another momo and this time I laugh. He’s obviously using the chewing time to think about his response. The corner of his mouth twitches and I shake my head.
“I’m glad you want to protect me, Patrick. But you can’t do it all the time.”
He doesn’t look pleased. “It wasn’t that bad, really. I don’t think I realised everything we had to consider when it comes to having a baby.”
I’m not surprised he’s brushing past all of this as smoothly as possible. But I let him. Shoving an entire momo into my mouth, I take a page out of his book and use the time to calm down.
“It’s weird, right?” I say press my thumb into the mouth of the goli soda bottle to break the marble seal. “In movies and books, they get knocked up and look great for nine months. Once they have the baby, their lives go back to normal. Nobody ever tells you about the scary things.”
His responding smile is tinged in sadness. “Maybe we should reframe it. Not think of it as scary or bad or hard shit. It’s routine and normal, standard operating procedure.”
I watch him, then ask, “Do they make you give speeches before big games?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“They really should reconsider. That was terrible.”
“Brat.” He laughs and throws a napkin at me, instantly breaking the tension.
“Now try this,” I say and push the sauce towards him. To prove it’s not poison, I dip my momo in the Fomo Momo Sauce and pop the whole thing into my mouth. The spice hits every tastebud and coats my entire mouth with fire, but it’s so good, I don’t even care.
He follows suit and swears loudly, getting everyone’s attention. “Fuck. What is that?” He chugs most of his goli soda and puffs out air like it’ll help. “Lo, this is hazardous. What the fuck?”
I grin and swish some of my drink around my mouth and shrug. “Your baby likes the spice hit, what can I say?”
“My baby would not jump into a teaspoon of that sauce. How are you even holding it together?”
My eyes water and I dab at the corners. Despite how desperately I crave spicy food, my mouth still hasn’t adjusted to the different levels of heat.
“It is spicy. But it’s not so bad.”
He shakes his head. “For the record, I will not be making you any spicy food. Green and red chillies will be present in your meals, but this? Nope. Not in my kitchen.”
