The Pitcher's Carnation: Flowers of the Month

“My mom is going to be so pissed,” she says, looking down at the rings on our fingers once we are back in the room.

“She’ll get over it, especially when you tell her that you’re pregnant,” I say.

“What?” she asks, looking at me like I have two heads. Is it possible that she doesn’t know?

“Are you really going to tell me that you’re not pregnant?”

“I’m not,” she says, then pauses. I watch as she adds up something on her fingers. “Oh shit. I might be.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you know before I did?” she asks.

“Your belly is a little distended,” I say, and she looks at me like I’m insane. “I mean, just a little. And while I don’t know much about women, you haven’t had a period since we met.”

“Well, shit, I thought it was stress. You, the new job.” She grabs her purse and moves to the door.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“The drug store. I’ll be right back,” she says, kissing me.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, you stay here and ice your arm. I’ll take care of it when I get back.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

She leaves, and I ice my arm, waiting for her to return. Thirty minutes later, she does, a bag in tow. She throws it down on the chair and digs through it, pulling out a pink and purple box. “Be right back.” She hightails it into the bathroom. Briefly, I wonder if I should go in with her, but I decide against it. I love the woman, but there should be some mystery, right?

A few minutes later, she comes back out with the test stick in her hand. She doesn’t look happy or sad, so I have no idea what to think.

“Well?” I ask, somewhat impatiently.

“I’m pregnant!” she exclaims. “Are you okay with it? I mean, we’ve never talked about babies.”

“Of course. We’ve never once used protection. I knew what I was doing,” I tell her. She jumps into my arms, and I spin her around. Setting her down on her feet, I kiss her deeply. I’ve never felt so scared and happy at the same time. Thankfully, my father showed me what a good father should be like. I’ve got this.

“Well, what do we do now?” she asks.

“Move in with me,” I say.

“Well, seeing as we are married, I don’t see why I wouldn’t.” She giggles. “Where do you have to be next?” she asks, rubbing my shoulder, making me groan in relief. Fuck. She knows just how to work my muscles.

“Tucson. We leave tomorrow,” I tell her.

“Should I join you there or go home?”

“Join me. We will go back to back to Atlanta on Sunday.” I turn and pull her into my arms again.

“Okay, sounds good, husband. We can do an actual honeymoon when the season is over,” she says. Kissing her again, I realize that I'm the luckiest man in the world. My sweet carnation is mine forever.

epilogue

Carnie

one year later

Looking down into our son's crib, I realize how much my life has changed for the better in such a short amount of time. He’s sleeping, and while I want nothing more than to pick him up and play with him, I can’t. If I do that, he’ll never go back to sleep. I slip out of the room, closing the door behind me. In the hallway, I run headfirst into Javier.

“You’re home!” I exclaim softly. I wrap myself around him. He drops his bags on the floor and lifts me up. He carries me to the bedroom and sets me down on the bed. He strips out of his clothes and peels my robe off of me. “God, I missed you so much,” I say though he’s only been gone for a few days.

“I missed you too, baby,” he growls before sucking my right nipple into his mouth. I moan as he moves down my body. He buries my face in my pussy and takes me to that place where I don’t even know my own name. Then he’s inside of me, and I wrap my legs around his hips. I meet him thrust for thrust. Over and over, he slams into me until my pussy clenches, and I scream his name.

Afterward, I lay in his arms. “How was the game?” I ask, having missed it. My parents were over for dinner, and we got sidetracked, fussing over the baby.

“We lost, but we have a doubleheader against them tomorrow.”

“That sounds arduous.”

“It will be, but we’ll get them in the end.”

“I know you will, baby.”

“How was your day?”

“It was good. I’m ready for my maternity leave to be over,” I say. I still have two weeks left, but I’m ending it early.

“You are? Can you leave the baby already? I’m having a hard time going to work each day,” he says.

“That’s not what I meant. That will be hard. Probably the hardest thing I’ll ever do but being alone all day is making me crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I love Junior, but no rule says I have to stay home forever.”