Page 26 of Interference
“Let’s get you back to my place then.”
“I feel like if I show up at your place, all of your friends are going to think something is going on.”
He laughs. “There is something going on. You’re my baby mama.”
“Please don’t say it like that. It sounds like we are about to be on an episode ofMaury.”
He laughs. “Nah. I’d never take you on national television. Besides, I know that little champ in your belly is mine.”
“What if it’s not a boy?” I ask him.
“I said champ. I didn’t say what he or she was a champ of, but come on. With us as parents? How can the little apple not be a champion?”
I shake my head. He got a pregnancy app that tells him the size of the baby. Now each week our child has a new nickname. Secretly I love it.
“Maybe we can find out next week at the doctor’s.”
All the good feelings fade away as my worry over the appointment settles in.
“What’s that look for?” he asks.
“What if I hurt the baby somehow when I didn’t know I had a baby? I worked hard on the ice,” I admit.
“Babies are resilient. There are some women who have even gone through the whole pregnancy not knowing they were growing a baby. I read this one article about a girl giving birth on a toilet. She thought she had to shit real bad, then boom, a baby. You caught it pretty early on. The baby will be fine,” he reassures me.
“We don’t know that, though.”
He takes a deep breath. “No. We don’t, but we will. If there are women out there who can do crack while pregnant and their babies still come out okay, then I think you can do some pretty rigorous exercise and the baby will be fine. Please, stop worrying so much. It’s not good for the baby.”
I snort. “Of course it’s not. Doesn’t stop the worry, though.”
“I know.” He puts his arm over my shoulder. “Let’s get you into my bed resting, then I’ll grab you something small to nibble on while I’m in class. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Just like that, Brett changes the subject, completely taking my mind off the baby as we climb into his car and head across campus.
I’ve been in class all day. Emery was supposed to go too, but she emailed all of her teachers and told them she was sick and asked if she could turn in her assignments remotely. Since a stomach bug has been going around, the teachers are a bit more lenient these days.
Stopping at one of our healthier options on campus, I order a salad with some grilled chicken for Emery and a burger for myself. Then I make my way back to my place to feed the girl dinner.
I know she’s okay. She’s been texting me throughout the day to check in so I don’t worry. Either that or she was bored. I don’t mind the reason. It helped ease my mind.
When I step through the front door, the first thing I notice is the noise. Feminine laughter from the living room. Toeing off my shoes at the door, I come around to find Cora and Emery on the couch watching television.
“Hey, ladies. What are you doing?” I ask.
“I saved your hostage from your room. Now we are bingeing trashy reality television,” Cora says without looking away from the TV.
“I didn’t have her locked in my room. She could have left at any time,” I tell her, moving around to set the food on the coffee table.
“Could have fooled me. She was sneaking into the hall bathroom,” Cora tells me.
“Hey, I wasn’t sneaking. I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” Emery tries to defend herself, but Cora doesn’t allow it.
“At noon? Honey, none of these hockey guys sleep past six in the morning,” she says.
“Well, you were here. Maybe you were sleeping.”
