A Bump in the Road
Read A Bump in the Road Online
Authors: Maureen Lipinski
A BUMP IN THE ROAD
From Happy Hour to Baby Shower
MAUREEN LIPINSKI
Thomas Dunne Books
St. Martin’s Griffin 
New York
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS
.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
A BUMP IN THE ROAD
. Copyright © 2009 by Maureen Lipinski. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Book design by Rich Arnold
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lipinski, Maureen.
A bump in the road : from happy hour to baby shower / Maureen Lipinski.—1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-0-312-53391-5
ISBN-10: 0-312-53391-8
1. Pregnancy—Fiction. 2. Chicago (Ill.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3612.I635B86 2009
813'.6—dc22
2008044634
First Edition: June 2009
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Kevin and Ryan
My mother always told me to say “thank you” as a child, but I was never very good at it. Yet there is so much gratitude to go around when it comes to this book, so here goes.
To all my friends, especially my old college roommates Pam, Sheryl, Barrie, and Carrie: You all provided me with endless hours of laughter and hilarious moments, a fair amount of which made it into this book. Drinks on me!
To my editor, Katie Gilligan: You are one of those people who “gets it.” You have effortlessly guided me through the sometimes dizzying world of publishing and continually put me at ease.
To my super-agent, Holly Root: This book certainly wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for your amazing persistence, humor, and dedication. You are the ultimate cheerleader and one of the coolest people ever!
To all of my teachers: Thank you for giving me the confidence and support to believe my writing dreams could be a reality. You have helped me in more ways than you know.
To my family, especially the Kilmer-Lipinski clan of Mom, Dad, Patrick, Mary Claire, and Christopher: Your love and support gave me the strength and comfort to pursue my vision of writing a book. I love you all very much. Without you all, my writing would be just thoughts in my head instead of a reality. This book is just as much yours as it is mine.
To the entire extended Leurck family: I’m so thankful for all of your warmth, compassion, and love. You all inspire me in different ways and continually remind me to strive to become a better person. I’m so blessed to have in-laws that are nothing like Clare’s!
To Kevin: Your endless love and support astound me each day. Thank you for always insisting I pursue my dreams, picking me back up when I fall, and helping me to laugh at all of life’s little bumps in the road.
And to Ryan: Your sense of irony and timing is just brilliant. I love you more than the stars in the sky, even when you had colic for three months straight. I’m constantly amazed by your independence, intelligence, and charm. With that said, please don’t repeat any of the bad words in this book.
A BUMP IN THE ROAD
Earlier on the plane:
“This is why we’re never having children,” Jake said as he lurched forward in his airplane seat again.
“Relax. Didn’t you hear? Li’l Mikey is experiencing a personal tragedy. He wants to watch
Cars
but the DVD player is broken.” I stifled a laugh.
“You’re hilarious. I’m going to put a muzzle on that kid if he doesn’t shut up,” Jake said.
Li’l Mikey stopped screaming for a moment and everyone collectively exhaled.
“NO! NO! NO! NO! MINE! MINE!”
Jake rocked forward again thanks to Li’l Mikey’s short and fat toddler legs. He turned around and tried to glare at the parents through the half-inch gap between our seats.
“Mikey, you’re making these nice people upset. If you don’t stop, you’re going to get a time-out. You don’t want that, Pooh Bear, do you?” his mother cooed to him.
“NO TIME OUT!”
“Do you want some candy?”
“CANDY!”
We heard rustling and Li’l Mikey silently chewed for a moment, until we heard what sounded like marbles dropping on the ground as all of his M&Ms dropped to the floor.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“Can I start screaming, too?” Jake asked me pathetically.
I opened my carry-on, pulled out four Tylenols and a Gatorade, and handed them to Jake, who wordlessly gulped it all down. After forty-eight hours of debauchery in Vegas, I had prepared to battle the Mother of All Hangovers but not Damien, Evil Spawn of Satan.
“This is God punishing us for spending a drunken weekend in Sin City,” I moaned as I jerked my thumb back toward Li’l Mikey.
Jake closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “Wrong,” he said, his eyes still shut. “This is God punishing us for sneering at the parents whose kid was screaming in the restaurant last night. It’s like Dante’s Inferno, except with annoying children and mothers instead of hornets and wasps.”
“Oh, please. They absolutely deserved to get kicked out of the restaurant. I mean, it’s somewhat difficult to enjoy a fifty-dollar steak when Junior next to me is screaming ‘Fie truck! Fie truck!’ ”
“I agree. But like I said, Dante’s Inferno: the poetic justice of two hungover assholes suffering through three hours with Li’l Mikey.”
“Speaking of which . . . ,” I said, reaching forward again into my carry-on to pull out my birth control pill.
“Yes. Please. The only thing more frightening than other people’s obnoxious children is the prospect of dealing with one of our—” Jake stopped when Li’l Mikey reached forward and gave him a good solid bop on the head with a stuffed Buzz Lightyear doll. Jake didn’t seem to appreciate it.
He also did not appreciate when I laughed so hard I choked on my birth control pill.
“You think this is hilarious, but I’m the one who has to give a presentation on Logitech’s new software application to about fifty executives tomorrow,” he whispered as he fiddled with his wedding band.
I smiled at him. “Maybe you should bring Mikey as your secret weapon.”
“What, like, ‘If you don’t buy our product, I’ll give the kid a Jolt cola and turn him loose in your employee break room’?”
“Exactly. See? Children can be useful,” I said as I opened
Newsweek
.
Once the plane landed, the airplane doors opened like the gates of heaven. As Jake and I stepped off the Jetway into the terminal, I felt a tap on my right shoulder.
“Are you Clare Finnegan?” a short, chubby woman with round chipmunk cheeks asked me.
“Yes,” I said, moving aside to let people behind me keep walking.
“From Am I Making Myself Clare?”
“That’s me,” I smiled at her.
“I’m Melanie. I just love, love, love your blog. I read it every day at work. I think you’re hilarious.”
“Thanks, that’s great to hear.”
“I started reading it after the article in
The Daily Tribune
. I’ve been hooked ever since. Do people recognize you a lot?”
“Every now and then, more since the article came out last month.” I straightened my wrinkled pants, hoping she wouldn’t notice the mustard stain on my hip.
“Hi, I’m Jake,” my husband said, and extended his hand.
“I recognize you, too. It’s nice to meet you.” She giggled. “How’s your car?”
“It’s fine. All taken care of,” he said, turning a little red.
“Well, I just wanted to say hi. I don’t want to keep you. I can’t wait to read the next entry,” she said, then gave a small wave and disappeared into the mass of people in the terminal.
“She was sweet,” I said to Jake.
“Yep. Thanks again for writing about my accident.”
“No problem.”
“Which way’s baggage claim?”
“I think to the left.” I pointed. “I guess I should start looking somewhat presentable when I go out. I hate meeting people when I look like a homeless person. Do I look OK?”
“You look great.”
“Really?”
“Well, except you split your pants when you bent down to pick up your carry-on.” Jake saw my look of horror and started laughing. “I’m just teasing. You look fine.”
“Don’t harass me when I’m hungover, Jake. I will not hesitate to sic my legions of fans upon you.”
“I’m terrified. Let’s go before someone else recognizes you, Internet Rockstar. Besides, I fear the consequences of keeping your sister waiting outside.”
