Chapter 18

Jennie

I was almost at the six-week mark of my pregnancy. Two weeks from now and I’d go in for my first ultrasound and pray like hell we heard a heartbeat. Mags and I had been doing well not thinking about it to the point of distraction—or we made each other believe that, anyway. But the simple fact of the matter was that life went on every day, and there was nothing to be done until that time, so we got back into the swing of our normal lives.

The gorgeous wedding ring on my finger was a comforting weight as I completed the final rewrites on my second personal article for the network’s blog. I still did the after-game reporting, but since writing my last couple of articles that delved more into the personal aspects of life, I found myself wondering if I was in the right career or not.

My mind got lost in thought as I twirled my square-cut, solitaire diamond ring and plain white gold wedding band around my finger. What if I left sports reporting and wrote articles more about people and life? Not gossip articles, but articles about things that made readers feel good, articles that offered hope? Maybe I could even write about issues that needed attention or help charities get recognition for their hard work. Luckily, being a writer gave me some of those choices, and I won’t lie, having a rich husband didn’t hurt.

Mags had already broached the subject of me staying home to raise our baby for the years before she started going to school. He was the one who first put the bug of doing freelance writing in my ear. Never would he suggest a woman couldn’t both have a career and raise a child, but he wanted me to know I had that option.

He didn’t care what I did with his money. Ours now, I supposed. As soon as our marriage was documented and my name was legally changed, he put everything in both our names, and he wouldn’t hear of a prenuptial agreement.

I’d been working from home anyway since our offices weren’t going to be repaired from the fire for months to come. The network was relying on one of the other local television stations for our broadcasts. We were delegated to one of their small studios, but we were lucky to find even that.

As far as the paper portion was concerned, they rented printing presses and everything else they needed and temporarily set up shop in an old warehouse in a less desirable area of Atlantic City. Space was limited, so me working from home was good for everyone.

“Hey, sweets. How was your day?” I jumped at Mags’ intrusion. I hadn’t even heard him come in, so lost was I in my thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yes, dear.” “You” and “okay” had become two of Magnus’ most-used words lately. If he continued that for the whole nine months of my pregnancy, I was going to wish I was hearing impaired.

“You know, even though I can’t hear your tone, I can see you’re tired of me asking that. I just worry, you know?”

Well damn. How could I get annoyed with him over that? “Yes, dear.” I sent him a smile, making him laugh.

“Tell me what had you so lost in thought.”

I got up and took his stick from him, putting it in the corner where it was always kept when not in use. He was fond of telling me he didn’t bring it home every day out of any kind of superstition, just habit. Sure. “I was thinking about what you said—you know, about taking time off after the baby’s born or doing freelance?”

“Yeah? Good. What did you decide?”

“Nothing yet, but it’s tempting. I’ve been looking at a few things here and there. I think I might want to get out of sports writing. You know most of the hockey games are at night, which would mean someone else would be putting our baby to sleep too many nights to count. I don’t like that idea.”

He was being very careful not to jump for joy, I could tell by the way he held himself. He was scarcely breathing. “Go ahead, Mags. Let it out.”

He picked me up in a bear hug, my feet dangling in the air. “I would love it if you stayed home to raise our babies. I can’t help it. Me man, you woman.”

He put me down with a smack to my bottom.

“You realize if I thought you meant that you’d be kissing my fist about now, right?”

“Yes, dear.” He had the audacity to wink at me, but any anger that may have materialized fled. I loved him too much, and I knew he didn’t think a woman’s “place” was at home, unless that was where she wanted to be.

“There would have to be some ground rules, though. While I love the idea of taking care of my family, I want a cleaning lady. I don’t ever want to stop working completely, so if I do freelance, I’m still going to need time to write. And to be completely honest, I hate cleaning.”

“That’s it? That’s your ground rule? Done.”

I burrowed into his chest, looking up at him with my bottom lip out. “And she has to be ugly. No cute French maids.”

“Damn. I knew it was too good to be true.” I pinched his butt hard. “Ah, Jennie. There will never be anyone else for me.” He kissed the tip of my nose and then made his way over to the kitchen table to look at the article I was typing on my laptop, stopping along the way to grab his wedding ring out of the tray. He didn’t wear it when he played hockey—too many horror stories of rings having to be cut off after a hand injury.

“You’re writing about Aerosmith?”

I frowned. “Huh?”

He turned my laptop toward me and there was Mr. Steven Tyler, mic in hand, with his signature scarves flowing from the stand. “Oh. I was looking at tickets, but I can’t get anything good. They’re pretty well sold out. I was going to see if Izzy would go with me.”

“Why wouldn’t you ask me?”

“You’d want to go to a concert? Why?” I’d never even thought to ask Mags. What would a deaf man get out of going to a concert?

“If we’re close enough, I can feel the music. And if you tell me what song it is, I can still hear it. I loved Aerosmith growing up. Even had a poster in my room.”

“Really? I never knew that.”

“I’m sure there’s lots of stuff we still don’t know about each other, but it’s fun learning, isn’t it?”

“That is it. You know what we should do? We should play twenty questions at least once a week.”

“Sure, but how about lunch first? I’m starving, woman.”

Like a good little wife, I jumped up and made him a sandwich, giving it to him with a flourish.

“Saucy, wench.”

I sat back in my seat and regrettably closed the browser on Steven’s sexy visage. He wasn’t classically handsome, but damn was Aerosmith’s lead singer hot. His charisma was off the charts.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“Uh, no.”

“Jennie, you need to eat.”

I didn’t want to have this particular discussion. “I’m good. I had something.”

“Are you sure you had enough?”

He wasn’t going to drop it. I took a breath and answered him honestly. “If you must know, I had a bowl of cereal just after you left, an orange, the other half of my Pop-Tart, and a glass of water.”

“Oh, okay, then—”

“I wasn’t done.” Hi gave me a knowing look and bade me continue. “I also ate the rest of your dinner from last night, a grilled cheese, and some Doritos.”

He laughed. He laughed at me.

“I know! I’m a pig. I’m just so hungry.”

“Ah, Jennie. You’re not a pig. You said it yourself—you’re hungry. You’re feeding my baby, you know.”

Of course I knew that. “Yes, but Mags, I can’t eat like that all the time. It’s too much. I need to throw some filling salads in there at the very least.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll stock up on anything you want the next time we go shopping.”

“The way I’m eating, that won’t be too long from now. And we’re out of ice cream.”

I left him to laugh by himself and wandered into the living room to play with Eight Ball.

***

“Do you see it?” I was lying on a paper-covered table while the ultrasound technician looked for our baby. Mags was a frustrated bystander, reminding me every few seconds that he couldn’t hear what was being said. As if I had forgotten.

I squeezed his hand and waved his concerns away. That didn’t do the trick. “Anything yet?”

I shook my head vigorously. And then there it was. A teeny tiny blinking whitish spot on the monitor. I sobbed my relief and nodded to Mags. It was all I was capable of.

The technician took pity on me and pointed out our baby for Mags, making a heart shape with her hands. He jumped up and hugged her, scaring the bejesus out of the poor woman and unfortunately causing her to jostle her hand that was holding the ultrasound wand inside of me. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He released her and sat back down, kissing my hand. “Ah, Jennie. You’re amazing.”

She gently repositioned the wand and then said, “Wow, he’s a handful, isn’t he?” She did this with her back turned to him. On purpose, I was sure.

“In the best possible way.” Mags threw me a questioning glance, but I just smiled, and he grinned back at me. We were both so damn relieved.

The next morning I was violently ill, causing me renewed alarm. I’d vomited a time or two in the first weeks of my pregnancy and been a bit nauseous, but nothing like that. I made it back to bed and got under the covers, feeling miserable. Magnus tried to roll me over, but I pushed him away. I just wanted to be left alone.

The bed dipped as he got up, thankfully leaving me by myself to wallow in my misery. But no such luck. He showed up on my side of the bed, getting down on his knees so that we were face to face. “You okay?”

Those two fucking words again. I reminded myself that I loved this man, and he only wanted to take care of me. “Yes. Please leave me alone.”

His hand pushed the hair off my forehead. “Do you want me to make you some eggs?”

At the thought of eating, my stomach revolted. “Move!” I pushed him out of the way and ran to the bathroom, retching into the toilet again. Mags was sitting on the bed, toying with the string on his sweatpants when I returned.

Jennie, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.

Dammit, now I felt like a monster. I reached for him and pulled him back to bed, making him spoon me. He settled his chin on the top of my head and held me. A few unexplained tears escaped me before I slipped off back to sleep.

When I next awoke, I was starving—and alone. “Mags?” I still had a tendency to call out to him when I wasn’t fully awake. The Breakers had a game that night so I knew he wasn’t at practice, but he may have gone to the gym.

The clock next to the bed told me I’d slept late again. Ten after ten. At least it was still morning. I heard noises coming from the front of the house, so I knew Mags was indeed home. The sight that greeted me warmed my heart.

Magnus had the entire island filled with food, ranging from fresh berries to pork rinds. And four pints of Ben & Jerry’s. God bless him. I walked in and hugged him from behind. He patted my hands and then continued to put the groceries away.

I reached around him for a pint of Cherry Garcia.

“You’re going to have that for breakfast?”

I stopped pulling the lid off to stare at him with daring in my eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“Ah, no. Of course not.”

He was learning.

Magnus

How’s Jennie feeling? Cage and I were at Chelsea’s grabbing a beer before I headed home after practice. We’d lost three games in a row, and today the coach had reminded us that we needed to work harder by making it a bag skate day. That was basically making us skate sprints until we wanted to puke. Good times.

She’s fine. I wasn’t about to talk bad about my pregnant wife. It wasn’t her fault her emotions were all over the place. From what I’d read—and I’d read a lot—the first three months were the worst. And praise the lord, her three months were almost up.

The past month had pretty much sucked, and I did my best to stay out of her way in the morning. She had a pattern going: she’d wake up early, puke her guts up, shoot daggers at me, climb back in bed, get up again, puke once more, and then be sweet as a newborn kitten for the rest of the day—unless I questioned her food choices. One would think I’d remember not to do that.

So what you’re saying is that she’s bat-shit crazy, right?

Come on, Cage. That’s not fair. And yes.

He clinked his beer against mine. In an odd moment of sincerity, Cage opened up to me. I know it’s hard on both of you right now, but Karen would give her right arm to be in her shoes.

I know she would. I’m really not complaining, and Jennie’s not either. It’s just not always easy to put on a smiling face, you know?

Yeah, I know.

Cage had talked to Karen about his fears of adding a new baby to their family. He was glad he did. Anything new on the baby front on your end?

Actually yes. There’s a girl who just started going to counseling at the clinic Karen works in. She’s fourteen and pregnant. Her mother’s asshole boyfriend raped her.

Jesus, man. That’s awful.

It is. You wouldn’t want to hear half the stories of the kids Karen and her co-workers deal with. I’m telling you, Karen’s got the easiest job in there, and she handles all of the special ed kids.

Karen didn’t do counseling so much as therapy. She worked with autistic kids, kids with Down Syndrome, deaf kids, and blind kids. I didn’t know how she did it, but she swore they made her life worth living. She went home happy at the end of the day, especially when she made strides with a particularly difficult child. Hell, all I did was hit a piece of rubber around the ice. I’ll stick with hockey. I wouldn’t be strong enough to do Karen’s job.

I hear that. Anyway, this girl is adamant about not having an abortion. She says she was forced to conceive this baby, and she won’t take away that baby’s choices later on in life by killing it. But she’s looking for a couple to adopt her baby and wants to get to know the potential parents.

I punched him in the arm, bringing some levity to the table. Hope she doesn’t know who you are. Does she watch hockey?

Yeah, yeah. Fuck you, dickhead.

That’s an interesting sign for dickhead. You come up with that all by yourself? I can’t imagine Karen taught that one to you.

Cage flipped me off. Another one of his best-used gestures. You knew what I meant.

So are you thinking of saying yes? Are you guys going to meet this girl?

What do you think? You know I’m not ready for another kid.

What I thought was that he had already told Karen yes. At my knowing stare, he just flipped me off again.

Shut up.