Between the Sheets (14 page)

Matty is already in bed with an
ereader in his hand when I saunter in with a late night snack. A
small bowl of Captain Crunch should hit the spot. If not, there’s
always seconds. Or ice cream.

“
Got a little hungry, huh?”
A little smirk plays on his face.

My knee goes down on the mattress
first. He reaches out and takes the cereal from my hands so I can’t
get comfortable without making a mess of our bed. When I’m all
settled, he gives it back after shoveling a bite into his own
mouth. “I don’t know if I’m really hungry, or if I’m just being
mental. I feel like I’m craving food all the time now that I know
we have a little guy growing in here.”

With his free hand, he reaches over
and places a palm to my belly. “Honey, you were always hungry
before. I hate to break it to you but this is nothing
new.”

“
Whatever,” I say through a
mouthful of Crunch Berries.

“
I take it everything went
well today. Mel sent me about five different texts telling me
congrats and to make sure I take care of you while she’s
gone.”

I shake my head just thinking of my
best friend’s concern. “She sent me quite a few too. She told me
not to let you blow in my hooha. Who does that? I don’t think
you’ve blown in my cooch, have you?”

Matty fumbles his electronic book and
it falls to the floor with a thud on the frieze carpeting. “No,
I’ve never blown inside it.” He chuckles. “Now, I can’t stop
thinking about a puffer fish.” He scratches his head with a smile
as I struggle to keep my food in my mouth.

“
A puffer fish?” I say,
when I finally swallow. “I’m going to have nightmares about my
vagina inflating like a balloon.”

He laughs again. “Not that I want to,
but why can’t I blow down there.”

I go on to tell him that Mel read
somewhere that it could cause an air embolism. I bet it’s one of
her grandma’s old wives’ tales. Matty just raises a brow at me,
shuddering while I give him the details. Great, I’ll be lucky if I
ever get him to go down there again. Like I really want my husband
to think about a bloating fish and the possibility of killing me
when he’s staring down my whispering eye. Thanks a lot,
Mel.

“
What about your brother?
Did you tell him?”

“
Yeah.”

“
And?”

“
He’s a guy. He’s happy.
You don’t have to worry about texts from him.”

I set my empty bowl on my nightstand
and flip the light switch to dim my side of the room. My husband
reaches over and flips his off as well. Like clockwork, we’re
snuggled together like two spoons in a silverware drawer. A light
sheet covers us as I settle my booty into his lap, and his arms
wrap around mine. His soft kisses on my bare shoulder ignite
fireworks up and down my body.

“
By the new year, we’re
going to be parents,” Matty murmurs against my neck. “I can’t wait
to see my baby in your arms. You’re going to be the most beautiful
mother I’ve ever seen.”

My nose tingles and tears sting my
eyes with emotion. “And you’re going to be the best daddy ever.” I
tilt my head back and kiss the tip of his nose. “And the
hottest.”

“
I love you,
Shelly.”

“
And I love
you.”

Melissa

The constant ringing of the phone in
my ear isn’t promising. He hasn’t answered yet so maybe he doesn’t
miss me as much as I miss him.

“
Melly!” he calls out,
breathless. “You there?”

“
Yeah.” He’s still
breathing hard, and boy does that do wonders for my lady
love.

“
Sorry, babe. I was just
getting out of the shower and I heard your ring coming from my
room. And then I had to dig around in my bed to find it.” The sound
of his voice is slowly getting back to normal.

“
Ring?” Curiosity killed
the cat but I can’t help asking. “What ring?”

He chuckles. “Well, I kinda set a new
ring tone to your contact info. That way I know when you’re calling
and I don’t let it go to voicemail.”

Or so he knows when he doesn’t need to
take the call. Damn it. I’m giving myself some bad mojo. Tyler
isn’t like that. “I’ll bite. You already know the FNL theme song
comes on for you, so what do you have for me?”

There’s that laugh again. I wish I
could see his face. I bet he’s smiling like crazy, proud of himself
with whatever gag song he has picked out for me. “Heard of
Ludacris?”

“
Duh. I’m a teacher. I’m
not dead. I know who he is. Lil Wayne too. And Drake. And all the
rest of them. I guess you’d be surprised to know they’re all on my
iPod.”

“
Wow, look at you. My very
own hoodrat.”

I bust up at that one.
“Hoodrat, hoodrat, hoochie mama.” Oh, if he only knew how true that
statement is. My stomach does a flip in response so I try changing
the subject. “Shut up. I’m surprised
you
know who he is.”

“
What? Just because I’m an
artist and hate to wear shoes, you think all I listen to is the
Counting Crows?”

“
No, Dave Matthews Band
too.”

“
Ha!” he shouts, along with
a round of laughter. “You’re priceless, Mel.”

“
Well, c’mon. The
song?”

“
Oh, I almost forgot.
It’s
My Chick Bad
.” A little snicker comes through the phone.

“
My chick hood?”

“
My chick do stuff that
your chick wish she could,” he says with such rap star
flair.

I crack up at his Luda impression.
“Yeah, I bet.”

“
Honey, you
are
one talented
woman.”

“
How would you like to get
another taste of my talents?” I saw a window and I took it. My
teeth clinch and I hold my breath for a response.

“
I’d love one. Tell me
you’re already in the car and on your way up here.” His tone peaks
with the excitement of a little boy.

“
Not quite. But I don’t
think I can wait three weeks. I may be on my way up tomorrow.”
There’s a long silence as I wait impatiently for him to reply. It
doesn’t come. “Hey, it was just an idea. I don’t have to. I can
wait.”

“
It’s not that, Mel. I want
you here. But I feel like I’m being a selfish ass making you do all
the commuting. I don’t want this to be one-sided and for you to
feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“
It’s just a little
driving. No biggie. If you want me there, I’m there. If not, then
I’ll stay put. It’s your call.” My fingers instinctively cross as I
wait, yet again.

Only this time, it’s less than a
second before he says, “Do you have to wait until tomorrow? Come
now.”

My earlier conversation with Tyler
makes this very awkward appointment a little easier to handle.
Having my mom at my side helps too. The waiting room in this OB
office is very modern with neutral colors for the most part with a
pop of color here and there. It reminds me of a model home, with
all new decor that’s so precise you’re afraid to touch anything. I
glance at the wall paintings and they remind me of Ty. Not that
they look anything like his work, but art alone, anywhere and
everywhere makes me think of him.

My right leg bounces up and down as I
scan each of the women. Some are with their significant others.
Some are married based on their ring fingers. Some not. One is
probably with her mother like me. I want to stand up and shout,
“No, my baby doesn’t have a deadbeat dad. He just doesn’t know yet
or he’d be here,” but I don’t. It feels weird though, seeing these
couples together and I brought my mama. Now, I really do feel like
a hoodrat. Like everyone is judging me.

Oh, fuck that. I’m over thirty years
old, if I want to have a baby on my own, I can. And I’d probably do
a better job single than some married parents. So, bite me is what
I say to any judgmental asses in this room.

“
Melissa,” a woman in beige
scrubs with a sage-colored patchwork print calls out my
name.

I’m on my feet and walking to the door
when I realize my mother is staying put. I motion for her to come
with me. Reluctantly, she stands and shuffles over.

“
I wasn’t sure,” she
whispers.

With my head on her shoulders as we
follow the nurse, I tell her, “Right now, I need my mama more than
ever, so stay close. Always.”

Before I can even sit on the patient
table, the nurse in the super comfortable looking scrubs hands me a
cup and asks for a sample. She also explains that I need to get
naked and put on the paper gown before the doctor comes
in.

Nice. I thought we might get to know
each other first before I start handing over my fluids.

After willing my bladder to let the
flood gates open, I leave my specimen cup in the secret
pass-through compartment in the wall and make my way to the exam
room. Within minutes I’m shivering in my paper gown, having shed
all my clothing like a freaking ninja so my mom wouldn’t have to
see my white ass.

The door swings open along with a cold
breeze, causing my nipples to stand at attention. And holy shit, if
it wasn’t the chill, my nips may have called out anyway. Sweet
jeezus, this is not my regular doctor.

The fine piece of manhood reaches out
his hand. “Hello there, Melissa. I’m Dr. Bryant.” When I suddenly
become mute, he continues by introducing himself to my mother, and
then addressing me again. “Dr. James is on maternity leave so I’m
filling in for her until she gets back. But don’t worry, I’ve been
doing this for years. I have two beautiful children of my own and
my wife tells me I have a great bedside manner.”

I bet she does. The man is like milk
chocolate, all smooth and yummy with his height and muscular build.
Dark skin and light green eyes. Holy shit. How am I going to let
this god-like creature with soft strong hands and a great bedside
manner touch me?

He goes on to ask the regular
questions. Have I had any spotting, cramps, blah, blah, blah? How
am I feeling? My medical history which my mom helps me with. Then
he gets real personal and asks about my baby daddy. I’m completely
honest and tell him I’m not married and I haven’t told Ty because I
wanted to be sure I’m really pregnant. He nods with a sympathetic
smile and taps away on his computer.

“
So I hear you have
irregular cycles and are not sure when you last had your period. Is
that correct?”

I go on to explain how I run and I
never keep track, but maybe the last time I had it was around my
birthday.

“
Well, according to the
good ol’ urine test, you’re coming up positive for pregnancy. What
we need to do now is an internal exam, listen for a heartbeat since
I’m guessing we’re far enough along. And then we’ll get you set up
for an ultrasound.” He places his tablet on the counter and calls
out for a nurse.

“
All that? Today?” I ask.
It’s not what I expected. Everything online said first appointments
were a bit of a let-down. But this, this is way more than I could
have imagined.

“
Melissa, it’s important
that we get some accurate measurements on your baby. It will help
us establish a due date and allow you to make plans for the
duration of your pregnancy. I’m assuming you’d like to know when
your baby is going to be done cooking, right?” His eyes twinkle
with a smile. They freaking twinkle. I may want my baby to stay in
the oven if that means I get to ogle this doctor for
longer.

“
Yes, that’d be
nice.”

A nurse or nurse’s assistant comes in
and she starts flipping up things here and there on the exam table.
The most notable, of course, are the stirrups.

“
Mom,” he says, “Why don’t
you come up here?” I’ll have to thank him later for not giving my
mom a cooch shot. Instead, she’s standing right next to my face and
I take her hand.

The nurse places a light blanket over
my bottom half and lifts my feet into the dreaded stirrups. This
isn’t my first rodeo, but it’s never a pleasant one. I can’t think
of any woman who has ever enjoyed this.

The doctor slides a pair of purple
gloves on his hands and stands beside me. First, he measures my
belly with a tiny tape measure. Then, he explains that I’ll feel
some pressure as he does the pelvic exam to check my uterus. Oh,
fun times.

When he’s finished with the exam, and
I’m done wincing at the uncomfortable intrusion into my body, he
says, “Well, you’re definitely far enough along to hear the
heartbeat so let’s take a listen.”

The nurse removes my feet from the
stirrups and slides out a platform for me to rest my legs. With the
blanket still covering my lower half, the doctor takes what looks
like a microphone and shimmies it in the opening of my gown. A
switch is flipped and he pushes the sucker onto my
belly.

At first, there is static coming from
a small speaker nearby. Then …

Oh my god. One hand shoots up to my
mouth, and my eyes focus on my mom’s as I squeeze her hand with my
other one.