Me: I just might. Goodnight.
Bennett
A kid sat next to me in the waiting room of Charlotte’s obstetrician’s office, his finger jammed up his nose. He kept digging around, pulling his finger out, glancing at it to see if he’d found anything, and then going back in. All while staring at me.
“Eli, don’t pick your nose,” his very pregnant mother said, looking at her phone.
The room was packed with women, babies, and a few men. An infant bundled up in a pink car seat carrier across from me made a cooing sound, and her mother stroked a finger across her chubby cheek and cooed back.
I’d totally be that dad. My dad had been hands-on, and I wanted to be the same way.
“Hey,” Charlotte said, unbuttoning her coat as she approached me. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and I couldn’t resist standing up to kiss her.
“Hey,” I said. “How are you?”
“Pretty good. I’m gonna go check in.”
I sat back down and looked over at the kid next to me. He’d switched nostrils but was still staring at me.
We got called back before Charlotte was able to sit down by me. A nurse checked her weight and blood pressure, and then we were left alone to wait for the doctor.
“Ever done it in a doctor’s office?” I asked her, grinning.
“No, but I could use the stress relief right now.”
“What’s going on?”
She sighed deeply. “Just my mom. Michael cheated on her and went on a trip with his mistress. She’s agonizing over whether to leave him.”
“Why?”
“Exactly.” Charlotte waved her hands in the air for effect. “It’s a miracle I ended up with any sense of self-worth, because she has none. She says she’s worried about finding another man at her age. And when I tell her she doesn’t need a man, she looks at me like I just grew a second head.”
I
was about to respond when she switched subjects.
“And then . . . then she had the nerve to tell me I needed to lock things down with you before I get much bigger with this pregnancy. Yeah, I have to wear elastic pants now. You think I don’t know I’m showing? And that I’ll end up waddling before this is over?”
“You’ll still be hot, babe.”
She scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not.”
“Why does she think I need to lock you down? Like I can’t handle things without a big, strong man to do the heavy lifting?”
“Char—”
The door to the room opened and Dr. Lansing stepped in.
“How are we, Charlotte?” he asked, glancing down at his clipboard.
“We’re pretty good.”
We listened to the baby’s heartbeat, and he talked to Charlotte about her diet and how she was feeling. It was a quick appointment, and Charlotte hustled toward the parking lot as soon as it was over. It was snowing, and she practically dove into her car.
“You in a hurry?” I asked, leaning down next to the open driver’s side door to look at her.