A Little Bit of Us (4 page)

     “I’m not allowed to drink,” I respond automatically and she laughs, “You idiot I mean go buy some shit. You may feel better if you see how
cute all the little baby boots are and stuff.”

     I nod
thoughtfully even though she can’t see me, she has a point I guess. I think. “But I’m having a boy.”

     “Oh dear.” My thoughts exactly. “Hmm… Boys have cute baby stuff.”

     “But I don’t know anything about boys, they’re all snotty and yucky.”

     She laughs a little and sighs, “Oh honey, all
babies and kids are snotty. At least with a boy you won’t have to worry about getting another you.”

     This is also true
. “I suppose.”

     “Just don’t ask
me to be a babysitter, ok? I’ll come visit you when you’ve had it. I’ll probably even take a few pictures. I will not hold it, or wipe its nose or be within puking range.” We both cackle for a while and then we sigh. As much as she is trying to make me feel better I can tell it is all words. She doesn’t mean it any more than I do. “I wish you luck girl. Rather you than me.” See, told you so.

     We hang up and I have a quick shower to wash off a nights worth of sweat and to calm myself, I’ve never been so clean. Nice. James is still asleep when I go back into the room and get dressed in shorts and a vest. Lazy ass, although he is most likely jet lagged plus he was up late last night.

     I head into the kitchen where Amelia is sat with Jacob eating cereal. They’re both staring at each other, very slowly their hands come up with the spoon and they munch on the cereal. I lean against the doorframe and watch them both staring each other down.
It’s like the beginning of a western shootout or whatever the hell they call it. I’m afraid to blink, I might miss Amelia with a pistol in her hand.

     “YOU BLINKED!” Jacob suddenly shouts
startling the baby out of me and Amelia glares like an angry mini adult. Then he sees me and blushes a fraction. I snort and go over to kiss her on the forehead. “The kid said she could beat me in a staring contest. I won.”

     “Well done Jacob, you finally won at something. And it was against a four year ol
d.” He scowls and pinches my ribs making me giggle. Then he prods my belly, “Now that we know you’re pregnant you can actually tell.” My mouth drops open in horror, his eyes go wide and he scratches the back of his head, “It suits you. There’s nothing there really but what is there looks good.” He looks around probably searching for an escape from my murderous gaze.

    “Three,” I say and his eyes go wider
. “Two.”  “You can’t be serious?” “One,” I dash around the counter and jump on his back.

     “Get off me you crazy bitch,” He laughs as I pull his hair. “OUCH!” I wrap my legs tight around him and bite his ear making him scream like a girl. His hands grab my thighs and his
finger pinch the muscle. Fuck that hurts. I scramble up his back, still clinging like a monkey and pull his head back making him yelp again. Then I bite his nose sideways. “Owwwwwwww! JAMES! JAMES!” he shouts half laughing half screaming.

    
Laughter enters the kitchen as strong arms go under my own and pull me off. I place my feet on the ground, smooth out my clothes, raise my chin, stomp my foot and huff before stalking over to the table. Jacob stands and rubs his nose still laughing. Lucas can barely contain it and looks fit to burst.

     “Crazy bitch.”

     “Limp dick.”

     He glowers at me
playfully and sits at the opposite side of the table. I slowly bring my spoon to my mouth, it’s actually Amelia’s left over cereal but there’s enough there for me to eat. We stare each other down in the exact position he and Amelia were in moments before.

     Lucas looks between us both, his head going back and forth like a swing. He shrugs, shakes his head in amusement and vanishes after Amelia.

     “I’m sorry for stating the fact that you’re pregnant,” Jacob says with a smug smile.

     Spoon up, crunch.

     “You’ll be just as sexy in four months’ time as you are now. There will just be more of you.”

     Eyes narrow, spoon up, crunch.

     “I give up,” he then blinks. “WOOO!” I say and jump up from my seat. I do a little victory dance just because I’m awesome like that. “In your face. You’re a disgrace.” I repeat this little chant four times until he lunges for me and slaps a hand over my mouth. And the fighting begins.

     James woke at about twelve and has been sat at his laptop for the past four hours, sending emails texting and taking calls. I’ve been doing the same, I’m just not so intense about it. What’s that smell? Smells like antiseptic spray. Smells good.

     “Why are you sniffing the air like a dog?” Lucas laughs from across the room.

     “I can smell antiseptic.”

     Jacob sniffs the air and shrugs looking perplexed, “I can’t smell anything.”

     “Me either,” Amelia adds. I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m getting a drink, anybody else want one?”

     “I’ll get it,” James says automatically and hops to his feet. “Anyone else?”

     “Beer,” the other two echo each other, their eyes never leaving the TV. Amelia asks for juice, her attention on the Barbie’s. James passes me and kisses my forehead. I could get used to this.

     Moments later he’s handing me a fresh apple juice and sitting back down, “Will this slavery thing only last until I’ve had the kid or are we talking until I’m dead?”

     James flips me off, something he’s never done before and glowers playfully at me.
Does he not realize I’m serious? All he’s done is fawn over me the past two days and I’m not one of those women who are going to say, “Stop it, I’m not an invalid.” Because quite frankly if I’m going to suffer with an invader in my stomach for the next five months and suffer through birth then I deserve to be pampered and run around after.

     “Are you hungry?” Jacob asks me, probably his way of apologizing for calling me almost fat earlier.
Then my stomach growls, rather noisily I might add. I give them all a look that screams, “Don’t you dare say a word.” They divert their gazes. Good boys.

     “I really,
really
fancy a McDonald’s double cheeseburger. And one of those snack wraps. Oh, and a brownie Mcflurry. Maybe some Crisscuts too,”

      James grins like a proud husband, “You never have McDonald’s.”

     “Not since I was about eighteen and even then it was only ever a breakfast bagel.”

     “Come on then,”
he holds out his hand I take it and wait for Jacob and Lucas to bark out there orders. “Let’s go.”

     We head down to his hire car because apparently I’m not allowed to drive. What kind of bull is that? Although he does let me have control over the music.
“YOUR SEX IS ON FIRE!” I shout sing and bang my head back and forth.

     He’s used to it, as he should be. “Fancy letting them sing it for a while?”

     “Not really.” I don’t stop singing as we stop at a red light. The windows are down in case you’re wondering. “THE DARK OF THE ALLEY! THE BREAKING OF DAY!” James hand clamps over my mouth. “HMM, HMM, HMM, HMMMM, HUM.” He removes it. “FEELS LIKE YOU’RE DYING. YOU’RE DYING.” Over my mouth. “HUM! HMMMM.” Removes it. “YOUR SEX IS ON FIRE!”

    
“Thanks sweetie!” an old guy shouts from the street making me do the piggy snort giggle.

     I turn the music down when we pull into the nearest McDonald’s. Whilst ordering, something glints in the corner of my eye. James notices it to and curses. Stupid paparazzi. Do they just watch places like this in LA to see if any stars show up? It’s ridiculous!

     We take off as the idiot with the camera moves closer to the car. Mm, my mouth is watering from the strong scent of burgers and fries and such.

     “You ok?” James asks. A little bit random.

     “Fine, why?”

     “Just worried about you. You’ve not been taking this well.” Remaining silent seems the best thing right now. “I have to go back soon. Tomorrow preferably.” He takes a deep breath. “Please come back.”

     “I don’t want to.”

     “And then I’ll miss out on my child,” he scoffs and slams his hand on the steering wheel. “Stop being so damn selfish!” His breath heaves and his face softens. “I know I don’t have any right to demand anything from you but give me this…. Please. Don’t make me beg because you know I will. I get it, we’re over. You’ve moved on.” HA, if that was true why am I here? “Just give me this.”

     “I said I’ll think about it.” What’s to think about? He’s right, I can’t and don’t want to do this alone.
I’m still not relenting immediately to his face, it’s not my style. Make him sweat.

     None of this means I’ve forgiven him. In all honesty, I don’t know why I should forgive him. He screwed someone else.

For revenge. Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t have done something similar.

Good point.

Let’s not pretend you don’t want a fumble in the sack with him again.

Also a good point. But look at him, he’s effing gorgeous. His hair, his eyes, his plump lips that are curved into a slight smile no doubt because he knows I’m staring at him. I just can’t get past those pictures, sure I get why he did it even though it was a shit thing to do. I get the fact he’s sorry. It’s just the getting past the fact his… his thing has been in that whore. Who the hell took the pictures is what I want to know.

He probably used a camera stand.

What kind of woman doesn’t care if a married man takes pictures of her burying his rod?

     “Like what you see?” he smirks. I scoff, “Such a cheesy thing to say.”

     He chuckles and pulls into the long winding driveway. The usual
paps aren’t here, they usually wait for us to leave, Jacob being their main focus obviously. They weren’t here on the way out either. Jacob must have paid them to go home. They’re sure to be staking out somewhere. Possibly at McDonald’s.

     “FOOD!” I call at the top of my lungs as we enter the house, startling a very timid housekeeper who scuttles off yet again like a frightened little mouse.

     We sit and eat in silence all except Amelia who is darting around the room and stealing our food. Mostly Jacob’s, I think she has a little girl crush on him. Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s taken a shining to her too, the past couple of days they’ve been near inseparable. They even watched The Little Mermaid together, yesterday I think it was. I was in a numb state, so numb I’m forgetting my days. I’ve been there so much recently it should become its own country. I shall name it Numbland, you can locate me on Numbgle earth, in a small area called Aloofville, population me.

That’s it, I’m done. I’m leaving.

Good riddance.

Just for that I’m going to stay and be the best damn conscience available. Even if our host is crazy.

     “I’m making noises again aren’t I?” I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut rather than watch the three men nod their heads. “My bad.” Time for bed, I’m losing my mind. Maybe a good book will sort this out. Without waiting for permission I drag my feet to my room and drop onto my bed. “Should I stay or should I go now? If I go there will be trouble.” Hum, hum, hum, I forgot the words. The chorus pretty much sums it up.

Go with them, work at the family you tore apart by being an idiot.

Have sex. That should help clear your mind.

     “I hate my brain,” I grumble into my pillow and grab my kindle. Time to pretend I’m someone else for a while. I wonder if being pregnant makes you quirkier than usual, and then I stop wondering because the whole point of me coming back to Numbland is so I can have a break from thinking about this stuff.

     I’m still reading when James comes in and starts untying his shoelaces
then kicks his shoes across the room and dumps his pants on the wood floor. Apparently the floor and the closet are synonymous in his world, I’ll call it Scruffland, where floors are laundry baskets and laundry baskets are the only place without dirty clothing. It’s also a place where they can leave their Q-tips on the side of the sink after “wanking off” their ear. Fortunately for him everywhere we live we have a cleaner so he doesn’t hear my wrath. Another thing he does that annoys me… he blows his nose and folds up the damn tissue! Who does that? Then he leaves it on a surface some place, be it the bed side table or the arm of the couch. I always used to come across these little tissue squares. Freak.

     “You are really annoying,” I say but it’s not true. The reason it isn’t true is because these things have never annoyed me until now and the only reason they’re annoying me now is because I’m angry at him and even the way he breathes is annoying. If you’re wondering why I’m yet again angry at him it’s because I’m thinking. I’m female, I think and when I think
, the emotions of the thing I’m thinking of come bubbling up as if it happened five minutes ago. So now I’m going to pick on him and show him that I’m angry. “Why do you flip the pillow before you lay down?”

     His eyes go wide, his eyebrows shoot up, he knows what’s coming, knows the tone of voice I’m using. Instead of replying he flips his pillow and sinks under the blankets like a
frightened little puppy. Only his eyes and forehead peek over the top. I want to laugh but I don’t because I need to tell him off.

     “You always leave the sink in a mess after shaving. And you never rinse the sink properly after brushing your teeth,” yeah, this is going well. I’m counting stuff off on my fingers. “When you burp you say pardon me. Who does that? What are you? British? You laugh it off and say scuse me. Not excuse me. Just scuse, as in scuse. You know? SCUSE!”

     He nods and watches me as I start pacing by the bed, much like a lioness would
, I imagine. Roar. “When you’re driving you always have two hands on the wheel at ten and two. Who does that?”

     “Not me anymore apparently,” he chuckles, it sounds deep and muffled from under the blanket, it earns him another glare. “Sorry, continue.”

     “Right,” I nod and pull down another finger. Wait, there’s something else. I know it. He starts shaking, not from fright but from laughter. He knows I’m stuck thinking of something else that suddenly annoys me. Ah. “You type slower than me.”

     He can’t contain it, he erupts with laughter and pulls me into his arms. “And why’s that bad?”

     “Because it sounds wrong. And when we’re typing at the same time all I can think about is your effing fingers on the keys and how I want you to speed up.”

Actually you were thinking about what those fingers can do to your body.

Trying to resolve something here libido.

Pretty sure that’s my line Conscience.

     “You are so full of shit,” he says slowly and pulls my hair from my shoulder, it is soon replaced by his lips. “I’ve missed you.”

    
Me too. “You’re annoying.”

     “You love me.”

     “Yeah.” Shit, did I say that out loud? “That’s why I hate you.”

     “You hate the fact that you can’t hate me, there’s a difference. Because you know I’m sorry, and part of you knows I would never, ever hurt you again.”

     “Go to sleep Casanova.” Stupid male with his stupid mind reading abilities. Scoff.

I’m on his side.

Me too.

It’s a good thing I’m irrational then isn’t it. At least I have a level head. You won’t catch me running back to no cheater.

Sure you do. This is proof just how level headed you, I mean we, are.

    
I really need to see my shrink again. What the hell is that smell? Why can I smell bleach? Is this normal? I need to pee again! How did I not notice the fact that I’m pregnant? It should have been obvious, I’ve been peeing a lot, feeling a little sick some days, but never actually vomiting fortunately. Now I have a wicked case of heartburn.

     “James,” I say and turn over. “I need some Renee.”

     “Heartburn?”

     “Good guess,” It’s irritating. I rub the space below my ribs and frown. “Please.”

     He grins, climbs out of bed and gets redressed. I watch his gorgeous thighs tighten as he pulls on his
pants, I watch his chest expand as he shrugs on his shirt. Screw the Renee, I need sex. He leans over to kiss me softly before heading down the hall. Guess that means no sex then.

     “Stupid invader,” I say but find myself stroking my belly. Glaring at my hand I hiss, “Quit it!” And then proceed to throw it onto the bed with a slam. That sure told it.

Sigh.

    
James pads back into the room with a little red packet in hand, “Jacob had some in the cupboard. We should start stocking up on the things we’ll need. Won’t be long before your breasts start producing milk.” Come again? “Of course they have nipple pads for that so you don’t ruin your bras.” Say what? “If you read the baby books they’re very informative.” And again… say what? “Apparently you taste different down there whilst pregnant.” Ewww. “Maybe we can test that theory.”