Chapter 23

 

 

 

Bellamy

 

Banshee’s been gone twenty-minutes and seven seconds per my stopwatch on the nightstand. Yep, I’m counting. I’ve laid here on my back for twenty-two minutes and sixteen seconds arguing with my ceiling like Granny is going to appear and start fighting back. That old wench is still playing God, and she’s not even physically here to meddle.

 

Twenty-three minutes and four seconds.

 

Twenty-three minutes and five seconds.

 

Twenty-three minutes and six seconds, Banshee is bounding in the room with two plastic bags and nodding his head to the bathroom. I begrudgingly get out of bed at twenty-four minutes and eleven seconds. Reaching the bathroom, he has exactly what I asked him to get spread out over the counter.

 

A few dozen pregnancy tests.

 

Glaring at him, he’s bouncing with excitement like a kid in a candy store; big, broad, I’m-so-proud-of-myself grin plastered on his face. I grab four different test and swipe the rest back into the bag and toss them under the counter. Rising an eyebrow at Banshee as he continues to stand next to the tub giving him the signal for him to leave so I can cop-a-squat and piss on these sticks, but all he does is raise his eyebrow right back.

 

I sigh. “Banshee, take a walk.”

 

“Nope.” He says as his shit-eating grin spreads more if that’s possible.

 

“Whatever.” I grit as I pull down my panties and squat over the toilet. Taking the first test in hand and placing it under the stream of piss that is tinkling in the water. Counting to three, then setting it on the counter and taking the next one and doing the same. Three more times. When the last is wet, and beside the others, I wipe, pull up my undies and stand next to Banshee with my arms folded against my chest.

 

“How much longer?” He questions.

 

Peeking out at the clock telling me we’ve been in this bathroom for twelve minutes, I pick up the first test and see the bright blue two lines indicating that I’m indeed knocked up and toss it to him over my shoulder. Continuing down the line with an obvious plus sign, double blue lines and the flashing pregnant, it’s a guarantee that I’m carrying Banshee’s spawn.

 

“So, two lines is a go.” He says spreading out the last word. I bob my head, and he spins me so fast to face him I get a little dizzy. He squeezes the shit out of me with his solid arms. “Fuck, Sweets. Thank you.” He murmurs.

 

“Don’t thank me. Thank Granny for her meddling ways.” I say trying to hide the joy I feel with trying to be a hard-ass.

 

“You know she was just fucking with you when she started planning our wedding that night at her house.” I shake my head. “When you left, she asked me if I was stupid.” He chuckles. “Said I wasn’t fooling her and that if I wanted you that I had to take you. That’s exactly what I did. I came here and ravished you with my body and the next thing I know we are so intertwined that a needle couldn’t disconnect us.”

 

“You’re the first one that she didn’t scare away.” I grin. “When I first moved back, I started seeing a man casually and took him to Granny’s. She chewed him up and spit him out within the first five minutes of walking through her door. He ran out of there like his ass was on fire, and Granny laughed as the door slammed. She told me that she could tell by the way I looked at him that he wasn’t it—that the man that was meant for me would be able to find me in a crowd. He would be able to feel my presence without seeing me first.”

 

“The spark would be so hot that it’d combust and set anyone in the vicinity on fire.” He continues and wipes the tear that slipped off my cheek. “She was a smart cookie.”

 

“Yeah, she was, especially when she wasn’t chanting about stepping on cracks, counting chickens and chairs rocking.”

 

“Chairs rocking.” He says dumbfounded.

 

“Granny was many things, but when it came to superstitions, she was the fucking queen. She reminded us anytime we sat in a rocking chair on a porch that when we got out of it to make sure that it was still and not rocking. She said that a rocking chair that was still rocking after you got up from it was an invitation for evil spirits to enter your home.”

 

“I guess there will be no rocking chairs on our porch.” He guffaws as he leads me back to my bed.

 

We spend the rest of the day letting the new-found information of baby makes three settle. I realize more now than ever that I’m just as unconventional as Granny and I’ll revel in it.