Chapter Thirty-Four
We sat on the bed and watched TV together. I leaned back in Conrad’s lap, and he had his hands around my belly. A bowl of ice cream sat on top of it. I fed it to him over my shoulder.
“I think I like your ice cream craving better than your chicken wing one.”
“What if I dipped chicken wings in the ice cream?” I asked, thinking it was a real possibility.
“That sounds disgusting.”
“No, that sounds good. Maybe I can get a bottle of buffalo wing sauce and use it as an ice cream topping.” My stomach grumbled at the thought.
“That sounds vomit inducing.”
“Now I want chicken wings. Ooh,” I said. My stomach balled up into a cramp, a sharp ache taking over.
“You okay?” Conrad asked in my ear.
“Yeah, cramp.”
“Is that okay? Should we call Dr. Garcia?” He put his hand on my stomach.
“Nah, it’s actually pretty normal.”
“Is that like a Braxton Hicks contraction?”
“Yeah,” I said, shoving a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.
“I finished reading those books. Have you thought more about delivery? Think you’ll go without an epidural?” he asked. I swear, he read up way more on pregnancy than I did. He was like a walking what to expect info board.
“Yeah. I think it’s best for the babies and me.”
“No drugs at all?”
“Nope.” Hopefully, I still felt that way when I went into labor.
“What about names?” Conrad asked, kissing my neck.
“I keep trying to come up with stuff, but I don’t know.”
“I just happen to have a handy dandy baby name website open on my phone.” Conrad reached over and pulled his phone off of the nightstand.
“What a coincidence. Do you have any names you like?”
“It just so happens I made a list in case we needed some help with that.”
“You are so cute. Read me your list.” Conrad really was the best.
“Let me pull it up. Okay, so for girls I have Bailey, Sarah, Katie, Emma, Emily, Ada, Willa, Ashlynn.”
“Ooh, that’s pretty. I like that one. Add that to my list. Any others on yours?” I asked. My list was pretty much just that one name. There were way too many to pick from that I couldn’t make up my mind on only a few.
“Yep. I also have Mila, Kendall, Samantha.”
“You have a pretty long list.”
“Only a few more. Maisie, Delilah.”
“That’s cute,” I said, trying to imagine calling my daughter Delilah.
“Okay, adding to your list. And my last one is Caroline.”
“Aww, add that one, too.”
“So Ashlynn, Delilah, or Caroline so far.”
“I think Ashlynn is number one for me,” I said, and I think the babies knew we were talking about them because they started to kick. I took Conrad’s hand and lay it on my stomach.
“Hello, babies,” Conrad said as a tourism commercial for visiting London came on TV. “What about Elizabeth?”
“That’s perfect.” I knew right away that was the one.
“It is.”
I put my hand my belly next to Conrad’s, feeling our little ones wiggle and kick. “Hi, Elizabeth and unnamed baby boy.”
“Oh my God, I’m so excited.” Conrad kissed me up and down the side of my face.
I swatted him away. “Have you talked to your parents again?”
“My mom thought it was a problem to be fixed. From the sounds of it she doesn’t want us to keep our babies,” Conrad said, his voice dripping with sadness.
“Maybe we should drive out there. Talk to them in person.” I suggested, trying to push for it again.
“They can be such narrow-minded people.”
“Maybe at least give them a chance.”
“I’ll think about it.”
***
“I want chicken wings. Oh God, I want some chicken wings.” It was a few days later, and my chicken wing craving came back hardcore.
“It’s almost midnight.” Conrad had just gotten back from fixing the Neilson’s clogged sink. He was the on-call maintenance guy for the week. Since school had let out a while ago for the summer, he spent his days fixing stuff, and I spent mine sleeping, reading, and strolling around Pine Wood Falls, and visiting Sam.
“But I want some chicken wings so bad.”
“You might get heartburn.” He had a point, but man, did I want some.
“I’m already popping heartburn tablets left and right, so I should be okay. I’m going to get some chicken wings.” I pushed myself up off the couch.
“Do you want them that bad?”
“You wouldn’t believe how bad I want some chicken wings right now.” I grabbed his car keys from the counter.
“Stay. I’ll go find you some.”
“Really?” I asked. I knew he would, but sometimes, I liked to be dramatic.
“Yes.”
“You’re the best, Conrad. Come here.” He walked over to me, and I squished him in a tight hug. “The best mate ever.”
He let out a little laugh. “My mate.”
“Your very pregnant mate who’s been doing some thinking about school. It starts before you know it.”
Conrad raked a hand through his hair. “It does. This summer is going by so fast.”
“I can’t go like this. Look at me. I will be this giant beacon for prying eyes.”
“I know that it would be stressful for you. Maybe it would be best if you waited. You don’t ever have to go back if you don’t want to. I’ll take care of you.”
“I know I’d have some major anxiety issues. I want to get through this pregnancy peacefully. And maybe it is best to stay more private to help protect what everyone has here.”
“So maybe we should stay here until you give birth. We could even settle down here.”
“Yeah, so I think perhaps I’ll take the fall off or look into online classes, distant learning.”
“Maybe you should just rest and worry about school after the babies come, or like I said.”
“Or not go back. I’ll want to go back.”
“Okay, but maybe you should wait some.”
“Okay.”
“And I’ll go get you those chicken wings.” He gave me a quick kiss and left.
To occupy myself until he got back, I flipped on the TV and of course, fell asleep. I had become a champion of sleeping.
“Hey, baby,” Conrad said, coming back in.
“Oh, hi,” I said, trying to suppress my yawn, pretending like I wasn’t waking up.
“Chicken wings.” He smiled and shook the bag.
“Yes, please,” I said, holding onto the arm of the couch, trying to pull myself up.
“Don’t get up. Let me get you a plate.”
I settled back into the couch.
“Oh, and my mom invited us for lunch this weekend. She called me when I was out.”
“That’s great. When does our birthing class start?” I asked. My pregnancy brain liked to derail my thoughts, and sometimes, I found myself talking about something entirely different than what we started talking about.
“That’s on Thursday.”
“Okay,” I said, yawning. “Thanks for the chicken wings but I have to go sleep. I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Go on, baby.”
I felt bad for making him run out, but I needed to crash.