I had a feeling we were gearing up for a big argument over this, one where he’d tell me I couldn’t do this or get another pet, and one where I would most definitely tell him to shove that up his ass because he couldn’t tell me what to do. Knowing someone for five minutes didn’t give them the right to dictate to you what you did, regardless of whether or not you were carrying their baby.
Thankfully, the argument never happened, at least not between us that was.
“You asshole!” Beau screeched from the kitchen, followed by a splat.
“Hey, you almost hit me with that,” we heard Rich snap back.
“Well, excuse the fuck outta me. I’ll make sure the next one hits you right in the…”
Whatever she was going to say never came out because there was another splat followed by a yell, then a splat, then a yell.
“Stop throwing boiled eggs at me, woman!”
“Woman? Woman?”
Now, it could be said that I hadn’t exactly known Beau all that long in the grand scheme of things, but in the time I’d known her, I’d never heard her sounding the way she did then. It was a cross between angry, hysterical, and tears.
When we’d come in from introducing the men to the animals, and escaping from Snickers escapades, they’d shooed us into the living room while they made us something to eat. It had all looked copacetic, but apparently that had changed in the ten minutes we’d been apart.
I heard a hiss and looked back over at Tate who mouthed, “Throwing boiled eggs?”
Shrugging, I bit my lip trying not to laugh at the look on his face. He looked torn between laughter and disappointment. The latter most likely because he’d said repeatedly that he was hungry after we’d come in from the garden.
“Are you ok? Do you need a hand?” I called out, wanting to make sure she was ok, but not wanting to intrude. I didn’t know what their issue was, but I wanted them to work it out for her sake, and his. I might have snapped at him when he’d first arrived, but Rich seemed like a nice guy and he worked with and was close to Tate, so I had to assume we’d be seeing a lot of him if Tate was going to be around for the baby.
“Oh, I’m so ok. In fact, I’m the most ok I’ve been in a long time,” she yelled back, sounding like she was now having a blast. “Probably best to stay out of here. I wouldn’t want you to get hit.”
Both Tate and I looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Rich, you cool?” he asked his friend who had been silent since we’d last heard him.
“Yeah!” Was all he said back.
When the splats and yells continued from the kitchen, Tate got up and grabbed my hand. “Wanna come eat with me, pretty girl?” he whispered and then bent down so he was face to face with my vagina. “Breakfast for my baby. Whatever you want.”
My heart almost flew out of my chest when he did that and then plummeted when I realized that we still needed to have a chat about the baby. I couldn’t understand why he believed it was his and why he was so cool about it. I mean, I wasn’t upset about it, far from it. I guess I was just waiting for him to turn around and call a TV show to do a DNA test or something.
I almost tripped over my feet when I looked back over my shoulder down the hallway to my kitchen as he steered me toward the door. “Where are we going?”
Ignoring my question, he yelled over his shoulder, “Y’all clean up after yourselves. I’m taking Lily for breakfast.”
After the duo assured us they would, we walked out the door, and I placed the fate of my stomach in Tate’s hands.
Here’s what you learn if you read books and watch movies – vague answers are never good answers, or at least they don’t lead to good shit. There are arguments, psychos, broken shit, you name it.
Or, in my case, the first sign that you’re pregnant, aside from having no period obviously, reared its ugly head with a vengeance.* * *One hour and almost a death later when the tainted asshole denied me my coffee…
“Both Noah and Madix told me you weren’t allowed it,” the big shit face repeated as he moved around his kitchen making the best smelling food I’d been around in a long time. Figures he’d be able to do this too, it was like he could do everything for fuck's sake.
Yes, I was in a pissy mood. I’d been surviving on coffee since I was ten and had been accepted onto the junior diving team at my school. Four out of five mornings a week we had to be up before the ass crack of dawn to get to training before school. This obviously took a lot of energy, and on top of it we had endurance training with light ankle weights on when we went off the board to help us build up the ability to keep our legs straight before we hit the water. Sounds brutal, but it built up your stomach and thigh muscles so you didn’t wilt like cooked spaghetti during a dive. Anyway, without coffee to see me through it, I would have died.