Chapter Twenty-One
“Flatulence is yet another symptom you may experience during your twelfth week. A good way to relieve this embarrassing pregnancy symptom is to slow down your eating. Scarfing down food too quickly will cause pockets of gas to build in your already over-taxed stomach…”
“Wonderful,” Jade mumbled dryly, as Jeremy read from the pregnancy guidebook. With her head on his lap, all she could see was the cover, a woman rocking in a chair looking wildly perfect and content. She didn’t look like a farter.
In the last two weeks of her first trimester, her old self was now forgotten, replaced with a new body, overflowing with plenty of new, unattractive reflexes. When she wasn’t vomiting, she was trying to poop, and when she failed at that she was grateful for the vomiting. At least something was leaving her body.
She had an obscene amount of saliva going on and often woke up in a puddle of drool. That whole glowing thing, she suspected, was a crock of shit.
Plagued by heartburn, headaches, fatigue, and dizziness, she was constantly coping with one bodily function or another. Her sense of smell evolved to that of a bloodhound. The fragrance of food she once loved now sent her dashing off to the nearest toilet.
While she was an exhausted, sweaty, hormonal mess, Kat—the bitch—was Donna Reed gestating. No one looked that good pregnant. The only symptom Kat suffered was her need to pee often.
She groaned and cupped her slightly swollen belly. “It’s not fair. I have every gross symptom there is and Kat’s running around looking like a woman in a shampoo commercial.”
Jeremy laughed. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful.”
“You know if farting’s a symptom I’ll undoubtedly get that too.”
“A little farting never killed anyone.”
“I’m getting fat.” She pouted.
He rolled his eyes. “It says the baby’s the size of a large plum now. I love your little pooch.”
“Nothing fits.”
“Then start wearing maternity clothes.”
“I can’t. I still haven’t told my parents I’m pregnant.”
“Well, that’s a whole other issue I don’t understand, but personally, I think you’re glowing.”
“Yeah, right. That’s sweat. And according to that book, it’s going to be at least another two weeks before my ‘dry spell’ passes. By the second trimester, we should be good to go.”
For as excited as she was to finally be able to test out all her Jeremy fantasies in the flesh, her libido wasn’t cooperating. Rather, it dried up like an old sponge. She had raging hormones, but they were the wrong kind.
“I’m sure you’ll feel more like your old self in the second trimester.” He paged ahead, probably trying to see when her sex drive was scheduled to return. Grunting, he turned a few more pages. “We’ll just skip reading about week thirteen.”
“Greaaaat.” She adjusted the pillow at her hip.
“Here you go.” His optimism only testified to his lack of uterus. “By week fourteen you can expect a decrease in fatigue. You won’t need to pee as much, there’s less morning sickness, and your breasts should be less tender.”
“Thank God!”
“But you may get a congested nose and sound a little nasally.”
“Man, I am just an endless supply of sensuality! How do you find the strength to resist me?”
He arched a brow. “Oh, it takes more strength than you realize.”
Grinning, she batted her lashes. “You kiss me now.”
With a low chuckle, he tossed the book aside and bent—There was a knock at the door.
Jeremy paused and frowned. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.”
He craned his neck toward the door. “There’s an old, bald man and a short, chubby woman trying to see through your curtains.”
“Oh, shit!” She struggled to sit up. “It’s my parents. Hide that book! Are there any other baby things lying around?”
He helped her stand as she quickly scanned the area for pregnancy paraphernalia. The knock sounded again.
“Okay, behave and don’t say anything about the baby. That’s a conversation I can’t have right now.”
“Jade, it’ll be fine. Just get the door. I’ll be a perfect gentle—”
“I’m not worried about you! It’s them. They don’t have filters. I told you, they’re nuts.”
He rolled his eyes and she knew he didn’t believe her.
“Just remember, I warned you.”
She walked through the kitchen and unlocked the door.
“Jadinka!” her father yelled and pulled her into a smothering hug.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Her mother elbowed them apart and bustled into the house, carrying a covered dish with a brown grocery bag on top. “Hello, Jade. Get out of my way, Larry. I have things in my arms.”
“And I have our daughter in mine. Which do you suppose is more valuable?” He winked at Jade and pinched her nose.
“Yes, well, if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t even have that. And if we waited for Jade to invite us over we’d be dead before the invitation arrived.”
Jade kissed her mother on the cheek as she unloaded her bundle onto the counter. “Hi, Mom.”
Her mom huffed and placed her hands on Jade’s shoulder, holding her at arm’s length as she inspected her appearance. “Hello, baby. You look too skinny. Are you eating enough? Probably not. Here, I brought you Kugel. It’s still warm.”
At fifty-six years old, her mother had more vitality than the Energizer bunny. Her family was right off the boat from Italy and staunchly Catholic. However, when she married an out of practice Jewish man, she hung up her rosary beads and converted. It didn’t take long for her to master passive, yet not so subtle, maternal guilt. If martyrdom were a sport, her mother would be an Olympic class gold medalist.
Her mother opened and shut cabinets and drawers, piling the counter with plates, napkins, and forks. She was on a mission to feed her family and when she got like that there was no distracting her.
Jade moved toward the other side of the kitchen. “Mom, Dad, this is Jeremy.”
Her mother stilled as if just realizing there was another person in the room. She brushed her palms down the apron she wore over every outfit and turned with a smile. “Well, look at you. You’re a tall one.”
Jeremy extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Schultz. I can see where Jade gets her beauty.”
“Oh, and smart too!” She ignored his hand and gave him a firm pinch on the cheek. Then, without missing a beat, swatted her husband’s hand away from the foil covered dish. “Larry, get out of the Kugel and come meet Jeremy.”
“Nice to meet you, Jake.”
“Jeremy,” Jade corrected, offering the man a handshake.
“A good firm shake, that’s a sign of an honest man.”
“Thank you, sir. Do you play?” Jeremy angled his chin toward the clarinet her father carried in his left hand.
Drawing in a slow breath, Jade rolled her eyes. Her father carried that damn instrument everywhere. No one knew why and they learned not to ask. No one ever got a straight answer anyway. Still, he never went anywhere without the clarinet. It even made an appearance in her portraits from the father-daughter dance back in high school.
Her father furrowed his brow, as if not comprehending the randomness of Jeremy’s question. “No. Do you fish?”
Jeremy looked at her, his brows drawn together in incomprehension. She shook her head. This was the craziness she’d tried to warn him about.
“Enough about that,” her mother interrupted, as she carried plates to the table. “We can discuss while we eat. Do you like Kugel, Jeremy?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever had it before.”
“Ah, not Jewish then. I suppose you’re Catholic. I hope Jade’s heritage isn’t an issue for you. We, of course, are fine with a shagetz.”
He shot her a questioning look as her mother babbled Yiddish and heaped servings of the sweet noodle casserole onto their plates.
“Mom, stop.” She turned to Jeremy and mumbled, “We’re not Jewish and a shagetz is a non-Jewish male.”
“Jade! Vei is mir, we most certainly are Jewish!”
“Really? Then why do you put pork in your meat sauce and why do we get a Christmas tree every December? Dad, tell her to stop.”
“What do you like to fish for, Jake?”
Jeremy, obviously trying to follow the rapid conversation, ignored the fact that her father was calling him by the wrong name. “Anything I can catch from a boat, sir.”
“Ah, a true fisherman then. Got yourself a pair of sea legs, do you?”
“I put no traif in my sauce! My sauce is kosher!”
“That’s not what the butcher says,” Jade grumbled and took a bite of the Kugel. So warm.
“While in the service, my favorite moments were those spent on the ships.”
“Ah, a military man. This Jake is a good guy, Jadinka.”
“What is it you do now?” her mother asked. “Are you still in the service?”
“No, ma’am. I work with computers and live in Parkside so I can be closer to my daughter.”
Her mother raised a brow at the mention of a child and Jade cut in. “Mom, you remember Mia, Kat’s daughter. Jeremy’s Mia’s father.”
Her mother’s eyes widened as her mouth opened and closed. Her father smiled and elbowed Jeremy. “Gotch’ yourself a good shmeckle there, eh Jake? Nothing wrong with that. However, if my Jadinka here gets knocked up I’ll be cutting it off and using it to poke you in the back all the way to the chuppah.”
“Nobody’s getting knocked up, Larry. And we should be so lucky. All my lady friends have pictures of grandbabies posted on MyFace. What do I have on my wall? A picture of you.”
“It’s Facebook, Mom.”
“MyFace, SpaceBook… I can’t keep up with today’s technologies.”
Jeremy cleared his throat. “This is delicious, Mrs. Schulz. What exactly is it?”
Her mother beamed with pride and Jade was grateful for the change in topic. As she explained, in detail, all the different ways to make Kugel, Jade enjoyed the home cooked treat.
Once they finished eating, she walked her father around the cottage while her mother told Jeremy stories about God knows what. She held Jeremy’s large hand in a death grip between her two smaller, pudgy ones. He couldn’t escape if he tried.
An hour later, as Jade walked her parents to the door, she thanked them for bringing her the Kugel. Her mother also brought her a jar of sugar and a small broom having to do with some Jewish housewarming custom. They hugged her and Jeremy goodbye.
As they pulled away Jade leaned her weight against the door and exhaled. “I warned you.”
“What are you talking about? They’re great!” He pulled Jade into her arms and kissed her ear. “I didn’t know your father was in the CIA.”
She laughed. “He wasn’t.”