JASON
“And this is going to be Lance’s bedroom over here,” I say as I show Brittany the house I want to buy.
“His name isn’t going to be Lance. I’ve already told you, I don’t like that one either.” She pulls at my hand to take me across the hallway. “And look at the way the cream-colored paint clashes with the dark wood floors. No, I hate this house too.”
“Baby, this is the tenth house we’ve seen in the last month. How can you hate every one of them?”
“Easy. I want something different. Something no one else has.” She pushes back her thick dark hair that’s gotten even thicker with the pregnancy. “I’m hot in here, too.”
“You’re hot everywhere. You can’t use that as a reason not to like a place. Shit, you're hot standing in front of an open subzero refrigerator, pumpkin.” I pull her into my arms and notice a dampness on her skin. “How about an igloo in Antarctica?”
She fans herself. “Yes, that would be great.”
“A bit cold once the baby arrives, though.”
The real estate agent comes up behind us. “So, Mrs. Brennan, what do we think of this estate?”
“I hate it,” she says quickly. “I said no stairs. You keep showing us things with stairs. My sister has six kids, and she said stairs are a nightmare with small children. Being that my husband wants a few kids, I see stairs as a real problem.”
“But the kind of estates you're looking for all have stairs,” the poor guy tries to tell her.
My wife shakes her head. “I tell you what, Paul. You got one more chance to find me what I want. If you can’t, I’ll find someone who can.”
He looks at me for help and I can only shrug. “What she says goes, Paul.”
She hooks her thumb back at me. “You see that, Paul? That’s a man who knows how to make his wife happy. It isn’t always easy to do when she’s hot all the time, hungry most of the time, and cranky now and then.”
Now and then is an understatement!
Seeing as she’s not going to say okay to this house, I wrap my arm around her waist and help her down the stairs. “Come on, sweetie pie. I’m sure Paul will find you want you want.”
“What about what you want, Mr. Brennan?” he asks as he follows us down the stairs. “Don’t you get a say?”
She stops and turns back to look at him with fire in her eyes. And now I feel very sorry for the poor guy. “You’re no longer needed, Paul.”
He looks at me and I just shake my head. “Sorry,” I say as I move her along.
The idiot can’t seem to keep his mouth shut as he says, “Are you really going to let her act like that?”
Ignoring him, I get my wife to the car and make sure she’s comfortable before I let this poor idiot in on the facts of life. He’s waiting for me by his car as he taps impatiently on the top of his Lexus.
“I know she may seem picky,” I start out saying.
“Picky? I’d say bitchy.”
My insides heat as I have to stop myself from punching the man. “Look, Paul, I know you’re young. I can see you aren’t married and in my opinion, you need to wait awhile before you do that. Mature a bit. That woman is carrying around thirty pounds more than she was eight months ago. She has to pee every ten minutes, breaks into random sweats throughout the day and night, and has to have me put her shoes on and shave her legs because she can’t see past her stomach.”
“She’s a tyrant!” he shouts. “She has unreal expectations! There’s no pleasing her!”
“I’m sorry. I am,” I say as I walk away from him before I pound him into the ground. “Thanks for showing us all you did, Paul. Sorry things didn’t work out with us.”
Sliding into the car, I find Brittany crying. “I heard him!” She sniffles as I hand her a tissue. I keep them handy, as she breaks into tears a lot. “Am I really a tyrant?”
Running my hand through her hair, I say, “No way, sugar bear. You’re just trying to get the house you want. I think you’re smart for holding out for what you really want.”
With a loud blow of her nose, she says, “Right? I mean, I’m trying to think about the future. I want to keep the place we buy for a long time. I want to raise our children in one place. You know, right? You agree, right?”
“I agree. Look, I have an idea. Let’s stop looking in New York State and look for a ranch house in Texas.” I’ve been wanting to move back to Texas for a while now, but she’s been adamant that she needs to be close enough to New York to have meetings with the publishing companies there.
One more blow of the nose and she looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Okay.”
“I know you haven’t wanted to move …” Wait, what did she say? “Did you say, okay?”
She laughs a little, then stops. “Don’t make me laugh. I nearly wet myself. And I said, okay. I know you love it there, and I know I can’t find what I want here. I think that’s because I really want to move back too. I want to be able to see my family more, and I want little Rocko to be able to see his grandparents as much as he wants to.”
“Rocko?” I ask as I start the car.
She nods. “I like it.”
“I hate it.” Pulling away, I look over at her and find her frowning. “How about, Marco? That’s a little more normal.”
“That’s Italian. We aren’t Italian,” she says as she rubs her belly.
“What the hell do you think Rocko is?”
“Cool,” she says, then runs her hand over my thigh. “Baby, do you still think I’m attractive? I mean, I weigh a ton and have this constant sweat going on. I’m a little irritable, too. I’m no picnic.”
“You’re a delight, my love,” I say with a laugh. I’m no idiot!
“You know I can’t leave until the baby’s born. If you want to find a place in Texas, it’ll have to be after next month.”
“There is the ranch for sale on the outskirts of our old hometown. I could buy it and have some renovations done and six weeks after Marco is born, we could move right on in,” I tell her as I take her hand and kiss it. “You could let your sister Sharon do the decorating. She’s good at that kind of thing. I could pay her to do it. And my brother Jared could help her. He found her to his liking at our wedding.”
She seems to be thinking about it, then says, “Go for it. I like that place. We can keep your place in New York for when I have to be here.”
“Yes!” I say, feeling as if I’ve won a great victory. “Does that mean we can name our son Marco, too?”
“No way in hell,” she says crisply. “I’m thinking a cowboy name is more in order if we’re going to live on a Texas ranch. Buck, or Lane, or, Tuff.”
“I see where you’re going and I’m liking it, baby,” I say, then kiss her hand again.
“Finally, we can agree on something.” She lets out a sigh and lays her head back. “So you and I are going to become ranchers, of all things. We’re going to move back home and …” Her sudden stop has me looking over at her as I drive down the road. “Jason, why do you want to go back to that town?”
“Our families live there. Why else?”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. Distrust is sweeping her face as she looks into my eyes. I cut them away to look at the road. She snaps, “Why’d you stop looking at me?”
“I need to look at the road, baby. Don’t read anything into it.”
“Suddenly you want to go back home. Back to the place where everyone knows you cheated on me. Back to where plenty of your old sluts still live. Is that why you really want to go back?”
If she wasn’t hormonal I’d get into it with her, but she is, so I won’t.
“We don’t have to live there if it makes you uneasy,” I say with a very diplomatic tone.
“What does it make you, Jason? Horny?” she shrieks. “I knew one day this would happen. I’m fat and ugly and you want some on the side. I knew it would happen!”
“How about some ice cream?” I ask to try to get her off the rampage she’s gotten on.
“Don’t try to get me off my thought process!”
“Chocolate syrup, little rainbow sprinkles. Yum, yum.”
“I’m not that easy, Jason.”
I smile as I look at her. “Gummy bears, pumpkin. Lots of gummies drenched in chocolate syrup.”
She points to a small café. “Stop there.”
Her eyes have lost the fury that was just in them as I pull up to the curb. “Don’t you just love the way the whipped cream makes the whole thing come together?” I ask her as I pop her seatbelt off.
She looks over and smiles at me. “I’m sorry. I get kind of crazy now and then.”
Now and then, yeah!