And it definitely feels right.
Chapter Thirteen
Ashley - five weeks later
“Are you able to make it to my appointment tomorrow morning?” I ask Nik, settling on my couch for the evening. It was a long day at work. It was like every person within a one-hundred-mile radius who hadn’t brushed their teeth in a year decided to come get a cleaning. I’ve never been more grateful for having to wear a mask, gloves, and glasses in my entire career.
I picked up a couple slices of pizza and a bottle of Naked Juice Green Machine from a gas station on the way home because I knew I wouldn’t have the energy to cook anything.
“Dumb question, Ash. Of course, I’ll be there. They said we might be able to hear the heartbeat, yeah?”
It was a dumb question. Nik’s made it clear from the beginning that he planned to be involved in every step of the pregnancy. In fact, over the last five weeks, he’s also made it clear that he’s definitely on board with whatever is naturally developing between us. We still haven’t had “the talk” about what each of us wants, but as they say, actions speak louder than words. We haven’t spent the night together since the night Josie gave birth to Jay. Well, that’s not exactly true. I spent the next day with him, which turned into the next evening. I went home on New Year’s Day thoroughly ravaged and tired. In the best way possible.
Since that night, we’ve flirted and been affectionate with each other, but beyond little kisses and hand holding, nothing physical has happened. But we talk on the phone and text daily, see each other for meals, and have even caught a movie we were both looking forward to seeing. It feels a little like we’re dating, but we haven’t named it.
Maybe that’s why it’s so good between us.
No labels.
“Yes, that’s what they said. But I’m sure there are times when it doesn’t happen.”
“It’ll happen,” he says assuredly.
“I hope so.”
“How are you feeling today? Week twelve. End of first trimester. Kind of a big deal, right?”
“Yes. After we hear the heartbeat, I think we can start sharing our news. I had a little morning sickness this morning but it wasn’t bad at all. Just more like a queasy stomach. I ate tortilla chips because that’s all that sounded good, and it really helped. Kind of crazy.”
“Probably the salt,” he guesses. “Josie said the same thing about tortilla chips. They’d always calm her stomach.”
“She’s the one who suggested them, actually.”
I can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, “Oh yeah? Good. Good. She bugging you too much?”
“No,” I say, smiling back. Josie and I became instant friends after Jay was born. She’s invited me over to hang out a few times on my days off. I bring lunch with me and we sit together and stare at Jay, watch Food Network, and laugh over childhood stories about Nik. Or, Niko, as she calls him. When I asked Nik if it bothered him, he looked at me like I was out of my mind and said he didn’t care. Even when she showed me a picture of herself dressed as Cinderella and him dressed up like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. When I asked him about it, he simply shrugged, smiled, and said, ‘she wanted to play princesses. We’d just gotten done having a Nerf war so it was her turn to choose.’
He’s so confident and sure of himself. It would be intimidating if he acted like he was better than others, but that’s not how he is.
“If she gets to be too intrusive, you’ll let me know?”
“She’s fine, Nik. I like your sister,” I promise.
“That makes me happy. We should probably talk about me meeting your sisters, too.”
I groan. “Really? Wasn’t meeting my parents enough? That went really well, remember?”
“Yes, it did. Your parents are great. Dinner together was nice. But, yes, I need to meet your sisters, too. We’re doing this together, right? We need our families’ support and that includes everyone.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. But the thing is, my sisters have become gigantic shits over the past few weeks. I’m pretty sure it’s just jealousy over me being pregnant since neither of them are having luck in that department, but it still bothers me.
Grace, especially, hasn’t been acting like herself. Lucy thinks something is going on with her husband, Samuel, but Grace hasn’t told us anything. Which isn’t necessarily a surprise. None of us have ever really liked Samuel much. He’s… I don’t know how to explain it other than calling him a jerk but that’s not fair because that’s not a great description of him. He’s always been relatively nice to our whole family, but it feels fake. Almost as if he feels he’s doing us a favor to be in our presence.
“Let’s set it up, then.”
“Fine,” I grumble.
He chuckles. “It’ll be fine. Even if they’re rude as fuck, I don’t care. I can handle whatever they throw at me. It’s just a chance to try to get to know each other. If we don’t get along so good that we’ll be best friends, it’s not a big deal, right?”
I nod and stand up from the couch, bringing my empty bottle to the kitchen to rinse out and drop in the recycling bin. “Right. I just don’t want Grace saying anything offensive.”
“You said that she doesn’t care about education and stuff like that?”
I fill up a glass with ice water and grab a bag of pretzels, bottle of mustard, and a plate and bring my snack to the living room. “I know I did, but for whatever reason, she’s been kind of a jerk lately.”
“Set it up,” he says, ignoring my comment about her being a jerk. If I had to take a guess, it won’t bother him in the least if she is a jerk around him. He’ll brush it off and move on. It doesn’t seem like he lets people’s opinions of him get to him. I wish I was more like that. Instead, I tend to dwell on it. I want everyone to like me.
“Fine,” I sigh, squeezing some mustard onto the plate and dipping a pretzel into it. Before eating, I say, “But I’m not making any promises. You’ll probably hate Grace’s husband Samuel and become fast bros with Lucy’s husband Grant.”
“Did you just seriously use the word bros?” He chuckles.
“Yes. And I stand by it.” I grin.
“You’re being cute,” he says. “That’s pretty typical of you but I like it better when I can be with you while you’re being sweet and cute.”
“I’m being cute, huh?”
“You’re always cute.”
“What are you doing now?” I ask, feeling a flutter in my stomach as his words settle.
“Watching TV. Like normal.” He laughs lightly.
“Same. But I’m eating pretzels dipped in mustard.”
“Not shocking,” he remarks. He’s not wrong. I have this little snack almost every night. The little pretzel twists are my favorite. Dipped into regular yellow mustard.
“Tell me about your day.”
This is something we started doing last week. More than just the typical asking how each other’s days went. This is details to help us understand what the other does all day long.