Page 85 of Husband of the Year
“I’m pretty sure my mother slept fine while I was home,” I say.
“That’s because she was drinking. Sober parenting is a whole different ball game.”
“Right,” I say.
“And actually, I take that back. Once your kids go to college, you still worry enough to impact sleep. So, basically, your entire sleep cycle is fucked until you die.”
“Awesome.”
“But it’s worth it. You’ll see. I mean, look how much Illona’s enriched your life in two years. Now you’ll get to experience the whole thing from a much younger age.” Jill stands, moves to the chair next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “I’m so happy for you, Marvin. You’re getting married. You’re going to be a full-time parent.” She leans her head on my shoulder and I take a deep breath, the scent of her vanilla shampoo soothing me. “Now, if you’d just do something a little wild before Olan returns.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your fiancé has been away for weeks. And he’s coming back. With a baby. Have you done anything fun for yourself?? Let loose?”
“I stayed up all night last Saturday and binged the latest season ofDrag Race.”
“Oh, let me alert the authorities.” Jill’s back at her salad, poking, excavating the chicken. “I mean, I’m not suggesting you have a torrid affair. We don’t condone cheating. But we could go to a strip show in Boston this weekend. Or at least have a solo date night. Take yourself out to dinner and a movie. Go to a spa. Get your hair done. Have a massage.”
“I have been meaning to get a trim.” I run a hand through my thick, unruly curls. “My mother offered to do it, but I’m not keen on her using sharp objects so close to my face.”
“Well, do something. Trust me, once the baby is here, you’ll wish you’d have time to yourself.” She purses her lips, raises her eyebrows and gives me her trust-me-I-know look. “And are you prepared?”
“For the baby?”
“No, for the Backstreet Boys reunion tour. Yes, the baby.”
“I mean, I think so. Olan’s been taking care of him for weeks now. And he’s raised Illona. He’s got the dad thing down. I’ll just follow his lead.”
“That’s all wonderful, but I mean literally—is your house ready for a baby? Do you have a crib? Baby gates? Safety latches? Outlet covers? Diapers? A diaper pail?” She’s on her phone, pecking away, no doubt making a list. “You’d be surprised how dangerous our homes are for little ones—every corner poses another potential death trap.”
My mind does a quick scan of our house. The cords. The plugs. Gonzo’s toys scattered all over the premises. A tingling takes over my chest and my heartbeat suddenly ramps up.
“You need to babyproof.” She’s back to typing on her cell. “I’m coming over Saturday morning. Nick can take Maria to the library solo.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do. It’s my duty as your best friend, best woman, and most likely the godmother of this new bundle of joy. Nobody fancies an electrocuted baby.”
“Gosh, no. And, thank you.”
Jill has this extraordinary way of both ramping my anxiety up to eleven and then simmering it back down to a tolerable level. Before Greggie’s arrival, there’s bound to be a multitude of things that need to be taken care of. I’m also sure I have no idea what those things are. Jill has a baby. Well, she’s more of a toddler now, but she was a baby not that long ago. And besides too many chocolate-chip beet cookies, she hasn’t lost or severely injured Maria yet. Saturday morning. We’ll get the house ready. Olan’s counting on me. We’ve got to be prepared.
And I do need a trim. Maybe I’ll go wild and have them give me a shampoo too. Why not? This is my last hurrah before everything changes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
From: [email protected]
Sent: 4/4 at 1:53 A.M.
Subject: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough
Dear Marvin,
Next Monday will be a month since I’ve seen your adorable face in person. Touched you. Kissed you. I’m coming home and our nephew, Gregory Stone, will be strapped to my chest.
