Chapter 28 – Balls to the Wall
Maya –
I smack the balloon with my pool noodle toward Butch.
When I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about how I’m almost two days late, somehow this popped into my head. Before work, I made a quick trip to the store and bought an armful of pool noodles with bags of balloons. After I cut the noodles in half and blew up some balloons, I gathered the residents. We’re sitting around tables that have been pushed together playing balloon tennis.
I named the activity Smack It, but now I’m rethinking this because I think Foxy is getting into it on a whole other level.
“That’s right, smack it like you mean it, Butch!” Foxy yells across the table.
I don’t know whether to grimace or laugh.
“No one’s hittin’ it to me,” Betty complains.
“Here.” I pop the balloon up with my noodle and lob it to her so she can have a turn.
“This is stupid,” Miss Lillian Rose whines. “Donuts and Dominos was on the schedule. We can’t eat donuts while we’re smackin’ a balloon.”
Foxy leans up out of his chair, and you’d think it was match set at Wimbledon as hard as he hits it. It flies as fast as a balloon can fly and hits Erma right in the face.
Foxy raises his noodle in the air. “Score!”
“Foxy!” Erma screams. “You’re a buffoon.”
His only rebuttal is to point at her with his noodle. “I win!”
“There’s no winner.” I try to frown at him, but I’m sure it comes across lame. I bet this is why parents have trouble disciplining children—sometimes their bad behavior is too cute.
At the reminder, I sigh.
Children.
This brings my thoughts back to why I woke up in the middle of the night.
I don’t feel different, but I also don’t feel like I’m about to get my period. I do know for a fact I’ve never once analyzed how I feel as much as I have in the past two days. Do I feel pregnant, do I not feel pregnant, what does being pregnant even feel like? Am I bloated, do I need chocolate, am I emotional?
And if I am pregnant, what kind of mom will I be? It’s not like I have a good example. At least I know what kind of mom I won’t be—Vanessa Augustine was no role model.
Suddenly, I have the overwhelming desire for a donut.
Does this mean I’m pregnant? Or is it just because I smell donuts? And can I smell the donuts because my senses are heightened or is it just because there are donuts on the next table?
Honestly. I’m so over myself, I can’t stand it.
I toss the balloon and hit it down the table to Betty as I berate myself for over-analyzing my uterus and my sense of smell.
“Spank it, Betty!” Foxy yells.
“For the love of it all,” I say but can’t stop myself from grinning. “It’s Smack It. I should’ve just named it Tap the Balloon.”
“Oh, Maya.” Foxy narrows his eyes and slides back and forth in his seat. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was constipated, but this is Foxy. He’s giving me his sexy eyes and doing one of his little dances. “I’d tap that. Bow-chicka-wow-wow.”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing and throw my noodle across the table at him.
And Foxy shows me how spry he really is, because he catches it in midair as he keeps moving in his chair. “Boom—now I can spank with both hands.”
Oh my.
*****
Grady –
The next day…
I can’t wait for her to be done working two jobs. I want her here more. She doesn’t need to work at all, but she loves being at the Ranch, and it looks like that PT job will officially be hers soon. She seems excited about that. Lucky for me—she can electrocute me any time she feels like it.
When I push the button to lift one of the garage doors, I’m surprised to see her small compact car already parked for the day. She’s home early—it’s barely five o’clock.
Seeing her car reminds me we need to buy her a bigger one. It snows enough here she needs a four-wheel drive, plus, if she is pregnant, we’ll need it sooner than later.
I go to my phone to unarm the security system, and I shake my head when I see it’s already unarmed. We’ve only had the system for two days, but I’ve told her when she’s here, it needs to be set. It also needs to be set when she’s not here, and so far, she doesn’t seem to understand how strongly I feel about this.
As I walk through the mudroom and into the back hall, I round the corner and find her in the family room, tucked in the corner of the enormous sectional that was delivered a few days ago. “Hey, you’re home early.”
Her eyes dart to mine, surprised. She was staring at the ugliest Christmas tree on earth, as she insisted we bring it from her rental at the winery. She said the memory of me cutting it down is one of her favorites, and told me next year she expects me to do it again. When she filled me in on this, I immediately decided to have a grove of trees planted on the back half of our property. If I plan for it now, at least we’ll have decent trees in the future.
But I can’t take my eyes off her face. Her expression is almost void of emotion, and it’s not one I’m used to seeing. “You okay?”
She shakes her head, but just like she’s done to me before, her words contradict her expression. “I’m fine.”
I drop my workout bag, forgetting all about talking to her about the alarm, and move straight to her. She tilts her head back, looking at me as I get close and moves her legs for me to sit. Frowning, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head again. “I thought I’d be relieved.”
My frown deepens. “Relieved?”
She sighs. “It must have been all the activity or stress of the last few weeks. Or, who knows, maybe it’s all the Flamin’ Hot Fritos I’ve been eating and my system is off. I can’t remember the last time I was three days late.”
I try not to let my disappointment show, because as our days together have added up, especially the last few, I’ve been doing my best not to get excited.
We’re new. Not only are we new, but we’ve just moved in together, we have a non-date set in the very near future to get married, and as much as I know I love her and this is right, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re new.
Still.
I didn’t lie when I told her I was good if there was a baby. The last couple days when she told me she was late and wanted to give it a few more days before taking a test, I was becoming more and more good with the thought of becoming a father. A different kind of father.
A good father.
No—a fucking great father.
I try not to let my disappointment show, because I don’t know what she’s thinking. I bring my hand up to her chin and turn her face to mine. “What?”
It’s her turn to frown. “What?”
I raise my brows. “What are you thinking?”
She bites that damn lip, and just like every time it happens, my cock twitches.
But fuck, her eyes start to well. She’ll never know how deep that cuts me, and I’ll never tell her because I never want her to hide it.
She shrugs as her eyes fill and her voice cracks. “It’s silly—I know. Especially after I freaked about us being careless, but I was sort of getting used to the idea.”
I brush her jaw with my thumb and let out the breath I was holding. Leaning in to kiss her, I taste her tears as they fall to our mouths. When I let go, I put both hands to her face, wiping the wet from her cheeks with my thumbs. I’m serious as shit when I lower my voice. “We didn’t give it a full go. You teach me about your ovulation cycle and come January—it’s balls to the wall.”
Damn it, she smiles but her tears come stronger, and this time she nods her head in my hands.
I can’t take her crying, so I pull her into my arms and stuff my face in her hair where I mumble, “Like I need another reason to make love to you. January’s gonna be a fun month.”
She nods as her face is stuffed in my neck. “I’m sorry. You didn’t sign up for this, but I’m a little emotional while I’m on my period. I swear, I’ll get it under control. It’ll pass soon.”
This makes me laugh as I rub her back. “Then it’s a good thing I’m good with women.”
And fuck me, she starts laughing as she continues to cry into my neck.
I hold her while looking at the ugliest Christmas tree ever that sits in our new house and I see our future. A new path—our path. A path that can only be good.