“It’s my pleasure,” I replied, and at her soft, sleepy smile, I focused on the trek upstairs. I barely managed to reach the bedroom, slip off my shoes and tug my jeans down my hips to the floor before I trudged to the bed.
Pregnancy tired was a whole new level of tired I wasn’t prepared for.
Lord, help me and a woman on a mission to see how large her brother’s credit limit was.
As soon as I hit the bed, face-planting into it, I grabbed Garrett’s pillow, inhaled the musky scent of him, hugged it to me and in seconds I was asleep.
“Hey. Wake up.”
I was being shaken, and a familiar voice was whispering in my ears. Opening my eyes, I stared right into Gabby’s face. “What is your problem?” I groaned, shoving hair from my eyes. My limbs were heavy from sleep.
I had to be out only minutes. Exhaustion made it seem like a brick was settled on my chest, cementing me into the mattress.
“You need to wake up.”
“Why?” I rolled over and closed my eyes.
“Because you’ve been asleep for like hours and you’ve missed three calls from your mom and some texts from Garrett.”
“What? What time is it?” I shoved myself to sitting, hugging Garrett’s pillow to my lap before realizing how deranged that was. What woman needed her man’s pillow to feel better? Or sleep better?
“It’s almost five. And I figured you’d need some food or something. Doesn’t that thing inside of you need to eat?”
“That thing,” I snorted, “is a baby and it’s the size of a lemon or something like that.” As I spoke, my stomach rolled. Maybe Gabby had a point.
It’d be nice if at some point, I started to get a hold of this pregnancy shtick better than the daddy or the aunt.
“I need food,” I groaned and covered my mouth. I tripped over the covers on my way to the bathroom but made it to the toilet. As I leaned over it, I gagged, unable to throw up—was that a good sign or bad sign?—Gabby ran water behind me and then held a warm, wet washcloth to my forehead.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you puke.”
I choked out a laugh. Despite the urge to still throw up, nothing was happening. “Can you go get some crackers next to the bed? One or two might help.”
“Sure.” She placed the cloth into my hand and I sat back, knees to my chest, and rested my forehead against them.
At her footsteps returning, I reached out, plucked a cracker from her hand and munched on it. “Thanks.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Yeah, to stop feeling like I’m going to throw up at random times throughout the day.”
She laughed and took a seat next to me. Other than Garrett taking care of me, I’d done so much of this alone. Was it weird Gabby and I were hanging out in a bathroom while I tried not to vomit? Sure.
Did I like it?
“Thanks,” I said again, and lifted my head enough to let it fall to her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“At least someone’s happy to see me.” I squeezed her knee and ate another cracker. “Garrett always said you deserved better than Kurt. Said he was too basic for you, too distant.”
“Yeah, well he was hot and the sex was out of this world amazing.” After a moment, she snickered. “Probably not the best qualities to base a long-term relationship on, huh?”
“Nope.” I popped the P and blew out a breath. “I think I’m going to be okay, but do you know what sounds really amazing to me right now?” At her raised eyebrows, an expectant look on her face, I said, “Olive Garden salad and breadsticks.”
“Ohhh.” She stood and brushed her hands down the thighs of her jeans. “I haven’t eaten there since college.”
“Sounds good, though, right?”
“Oh yeah. I could eat a laundry basket of those breadsticks. Do you want to go out or should we see if they could deliver?”
The laundry basket aspect made them seem slightly less appealing, but I understood her more general point.
“Delivery.” The thought of getting dressed again to go out made me tired thinking about it. “I don’t know if I can handle another marathon excursion with you.”
Garrett’s fridge and pantry were still overflowing with all the food we bought last week, but the idea of cooking seemed way too difficult.
She stuck out her tongue and pointed to my nightstand back in the bedroom. “I brought up your phone in case you want to call your parents back or Garrett.”
I climbed to my feet and thanked her. “Wouldn’t he be on the plane by now?”
“They’ve probably landed already. Weren’t they leaving this morning?”
Right. Because I’d slept for three hours, not one like I’d hope to do and I’d lost track of time while we were shopping.
Most likely Garrett and his team were having dinner somewhere or getting ready to. A lot of times when he was on the road, groups of guys would go find restaurants if mealtimes didn’t come close to the end of practices in the visiting team rooms.
“Is there anything else you want from there? I’ll order everything while you call your parents back.”
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll look.”
After Gabby left, I used the bathroom and brushed my teeth to get the sleepy taste of my smoothie and lunch out of my mouth. After washing my face and applying moisturizer and feeling more awake as well as refreshed, I grabbed my phone and pulled up Olive Garden’s menu. The longer I looked, the more gross I felt. Everything sounded like it’d sit in my stomach like a lead balloon which wouldn’t help me feel any better. So help me, if pregnancy ruined my love affair with carbs, mainly pasta, I was never going to go through it again.
Soup didn’t turn my stomach though. I texted Gabby a request for their chicken and gnocchi and told her I’d be downstairs in a bit.
I pulled up my mom’s number on FaceTime and settled back into bed. Her face, so similar to mine with well-aged wrinkles came into view, the phone screen wobbling as she hurried to sit next to my dad. I didn’t see him yet, but he was there. I might have been closing in on thirty in a few years but they always had to talk to me together like I was a freshman in college and homesick.
“Hey Mom.”
“Hello beautiful. How are you feeling?”
She settled back on the couch and as predicted, my dad’s arm slid behind her on the couch and then his face came into view. “Hey Dad.”
“Princess.” He blew me a kiss. “How’s it going out there?”
“It’s good. Great actually and I’m doing better. Most days, anyway.”
“I’m glad,” my mom said, smile wobbling. “You’re almost through the worst of it, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “You called earlier? I was sleeping.”
“Good. You should be doing that as much as possible. Mostly I just wanted to see how everything was going with Garrett. We hadn’t heard from you.”
My dad tucked in so I could see his full face. “Your mom was worried.”
Of course she was. “It’s what she does best,” I teased and Mom smiled.