He steps back, releasing me from his intense scrutiny and without another word, turns and walks out of my house. Too bad it won’t be for the last time.
“Do you guys want to find out the sex?” the ultrasound tech asks as I lay with my eighteen-week pregnant belly hanging out on the exam table.
“How have we not discussed this?” I ask.
Josh sits beside me in his blue scrubs, having popped over from his shift at the ER to be here for the anatomy scan.
“We’ve discussed a lot of other things.” Josh shoots me a pointed expression, and then turns his focus to the tech. “Lynsey loves her new job. Her favorite color is purple. She lives for tropical drinks. Nonalcoholic for now, of course.” The tech smiles like we’re some adorable couple, clearly having no clue that we’re not in a relationship, and Josh is being a total smart-ass right now. “She’s obsessed with making charcuterie boards and eating French silk pie but only the kind they make at the hospital cafeteria. And Oreos are basically a food group.”
I whack him in the arm which has kind of become my punching bag as of late. “I find it highly offensive that the majority of the things you just listed involve food.”
He presses his lips together. “You do talk about food a lot.”
“Only because you won’t respect the fact that charcuterie can serve as an entire meal!”
He rolls his eyes, and I clench my hands into frustrated fists. Living under the same roof, even though I have a separate bedroom and bathroom down the hallway from Josh’s room, has certainly been interesting. And I too have learned a great deal about the man whose baby I’m carrying.
For example, Josh has an extremely dry sense of humor. He says things that are meant to be taken in jest but he doesn’t smile while he says them, so people often completely miss the humor.
I don’t miss it.
Mostly because a lot of things he says are at my expense. He likes to tease me about how many times I change my outfit before work every day and then chastise me for walking back and forth from my bedroom to the bathroom in only my bra and panties. I explain to him that if the master bath was as awesome as the guest bath, I would have taken his room, and he wouldn’t have to see me walking around in my skivvies. But since I wanted the guest room and bath and it’s a struggle to find clothes that don’t slide down my ass when I need to get down on the floor to work with Dr. Gunthrie’s young patients, he just needs to suck it up and try to look the other way. Although him looking the other way just resulted in the two of us colliding in the hallway when I was nearly naked…twice.
Thankfully, Josh’s teasing doesn’t seem as dickish as I once thought. In fact, I think it’s how he shows someone he’s comfortable with them. And I’m getting more comfortable with him too.
“I think I want to be surprised,” I blurt, and then turn to gauge Josh’s reaction.
He shrugs, seeming completely uninterested in this decision. “Works for me.”
I turn and nod my confirmation to the tech. “We’re keeping it a surprise.”
“Okay,” she says, running her probe around my belly one more time. “Then everything else looks great. Baby’s measurements are right on track for a due date of August 14th. The doctor will be in to chat with you both shortly. You can get dressed while I print your photos.”
I sigh, looking at the small belly I’m currently rocking as the tech wipes away the ultrasound gel. I read in one of the baby books that it takes a while for a belly to pop with a first pregnancy and boy was that true for me. When mine popped, it really popped. I went from a pie belly to a baby bump in the blink of an eye.
Which makes me anxious because we still haven’t told our parents. Josh seems chill about his folks, acting like he’d be fine with just surprising them at the birth while I’ve been having nightmares of running into my mother in the grocery store and her accusing me of getting fat again, like college.
The tech hands me the photos and leaves the room. I study them, my heart in my throat, still amazed at the miracle I’m growing in my body. Josh helps me off the table, his eyes avoiding the images I set on the chair before slipping into the attached restroom to get dressed. When I emerge, he’s staring at his phone, not the photos, and I try not to let that bother me.
“We need to tell our parents,” I say while walking back over to the exam table. I hop up on it, facing Josh in the chair beside me.
He inhales deeply and looks up. “Why?”
“Because the jig is up!” I point at my belly. “I look therefore I am. We can’t hide this anymore.”
He pins me with a skeptical look. “You haven’t even told your parents that you moved out of Dean’s place.”
I scoff at that reply. “How would that have gone? Hey Mom and Dad, I’m moving in with a man who you don’t know, and that I’m not dating just…because.”
Josh shrugs.
“Why are you so resistant to telling your parents? I thought you said they were cool.”
“Cool compared to yours who are crazy religious,” he replies, sitting back in the chair and stretching out his legs. “But you don’t know my mom. She’ll be all over you, asking you what color your pee is and what colors you want for the nursery. She’ll make you go shopping with her.”
“Oh yeah…the nursery.” My jaw drops. “We haven’t even discussed where the little peanut will sleep.”
Josh shakes his head reassuringly. “My office that’s right next to your bedroom is practically empty. We can convert that to a baby room when we’re ready. But I really don’t think we need to worry about any of this now.”
I nod, slowly accepting his words. His place definitely has room for all three of us, and the office would be very practical. But I still don’t know how long I’m actually staying there. Can we really cohabitate and raise a baby together and not actually be together?
Although it should be noted that living there is no hardship. I never noticed when I was there that first couple of times how gorgeous the house actually is. Josh said it was one of his friend Max’s flipped properties. Max clearly knows what he’s doing because Josh’s house is ten times more luxurious than my old digs.
The bedroom I moved into has a walk-in closet and great natural light. The guest bath across the hall is basically my own, which is incredible because it has a huge soaker tub that sits on a bed of gray rocks with a waterfall showerhead that comes down from the ceiling. It’s like walking into a spa. Josh’s master bath is just as gorgeous with a huge sink and vanity area and a cracked tile walk-in shower with a huge stone bench and two spray heads.
Moving in all of my crappy furniture was probably a dick move, but unless I was content living in the awesome tub, it had to be done. Especially as I wasn’t about to let Josh buy all new furniture and let me live there. I don’t want to owe the man my life when this weird arrangement is over.
Thankfully, things are going well so far. Josh definitely works a lot, but he checks in on me regularly throughout the day. And I’ve been so excited about my new job. I kind of enjoy having someone to talk to about it every day.
Suddenly, the doctor comes in, and Josh and I turn our attention to her. Dr. Lizzy is a short, bubbly blonde with curly blond hair and a constantly raspy voice that makes you want to give her a cough drop. She came recommended by one of Josh’s colleagues in the ER, and I’ve really liked her at my regular checkups. She seems totally at ease with the fact that Josh and I are not a couple.