“You want to feel?” She smiles excitedly and reaches for my hand.
I tighten my grip on the tub. “That’s okay.”
“What do you mean?” Her smile falters.
“I don’t need to feel it,” I reply through clenched teeth, a sense of unease washing over me from this very intimate moment.
“What? Why not? It’s incredible.”
She smiles again, and it’s so big and genuine and heartfelt that I fucking hate myself for ruining this for her.
“I’ve been drinking and I’d just rather not.”
I make a move to get out of the tub. Her gaze heavy on me as I grab a towel out of the cupboard and wrap it around my waist. I turn to her, sitting on her knees in the tub still clutching her belly, hurt, confusion, and disappointment written all over her face.
I gesture toward the door. “I’m going to go check the food you put in the oven. We don’t need the smoke alarm going off again.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and leave, willfully ignoring that ache in my chest because it’s not the only thing that I’m not interested in feeling.
“How’s my knocked-up sister who’s bringing shame to the Jones family?” my sister peals into the phone, her judgmental voice coming through loud and clear.
“Hey to you too, Christine,” I drone, propping my cell against my shoulder as I make a pot of de-caffeinated coffee, wearing nothing but one of Josh’s white T-shirts.
“Good God, it’s been a month and Mom is still blubbering to me about your situation.”
“Yeah,” I reply flatly and sigh. “Our phone calls are not going well.”
“She really doesn’t want you living with that doctor,” she says, her voice clearly amused. “I mean, it’s hilarious actually because, in any other situation, you being with a doctor would be top of the fold news on her annual Christmas letter. But being pregnant out of wedlock and living with a man in sin means that she’s at church every night praying the rosary and lighting every candle at St. Boniface.”
“Did you call for a reason or just to remind me what a complete and utter failure I am?” I reply through clenched teeth because I’m seriously over the whole big sister hazing chats we’ve been having as of late.
“I was wondering if you could watch the girls overnight for me on Saturday? Are you up for that?”
“Yeah, totally. I miss them!” I exclaim, a pang of guilt for going this long without seeing them niggling my gut. Between pregnancy and work, I haven’t made as much time for them and that seriously needs to change. “What are you doing?”
“Lance surprised me with concert tickets in Denver for my birthday, and we’re going to make a night of it.”
“Sounds fun,” I reply with a smile.
“It should be. I’m sure Mom will be angry I’m not giving the girls to her for the night but they keep asking when they can come see your new house and the baby in your belly.”
My lips purse together. “That’s adorable but they do know my belly isn’t see-through, right?”
“They have no idea, they’re real dumb like that,” Christine deadpans. “So how have you been feeling?”
“Great,” I reply honestly. “Missing the whole first trimester has made this all fly by. I’m twenty-six weeks along already.”
“You’re so lucky you missed the first trimester,” she groans. “I puked nonstop with Lennon.”
“I remember. And with Claire you were obsessed with pineapple.”
“So obsessed!” She laughs into the phone. “Are you having any weird cravings?”
Besides Josh cravings? “Not really. Although the other day I devoured an entire charcuterie board that probably would have fed six people.”
“Enjoy it while you can.”
“I intend to.”
She tsks knowingly. “Pregnancy does weird things to your body that’s for damned sure. Hey, if I come over around four on Saturday will Dr. Dick be there for me to meet finally?”
Her comment throws me so much that I miss my mouth as I attempt to take a sip and dribble coffee down the front of Josh’s white shirt. “Um…maybe?” I reply with a cringe as I dab at the mess. I glance over my shoulder to see if Josh is nearby. “And if he is, please don’t call him Dr. Dick when you’re here. He really hates that nickname.”
“Got it,” she replies firmly. “So, I take it you’re still sleeping with him and pretending you’re not going to fall in love with him?”
“Yes,” I reply briskly and scrub my hand through my hair. “And please don’t say anything about it, okay? Kate’s already trying to warp this situation into one of her romance novels, and I don’t want pressure from anyone. Just let this be what it’s going to be.”
“Fine with me. What do I know? I’m just your big sister with tons of life experience and could maybe be of some use to you on occasion.”
“Speaking of life experience,” I interject, trying my best to change subjects. “Was Lance ever…weird about your body when you were pregnant?”
“Weird how?”
“Like…not wanting to touch your belly and stuff?” I slip my hand under my shirt to rub the engorged bump I’m sporting. I love the feel of it. Movement or not, I can’t understand why Josh isn’t as amazed by all of this.
“Um…yes,” she barks out a laugh. “He used to stare at my stomach like an alien was going to pop out any second. He was a total freak. Not to mention he completely refused to have sex with me. He thought the baby would see his penis coming—so good for you for having a guy who’ll actually do you while you’re knocked up.”
I force out a laugh as I think about how Josh has been with me recently. We’re definitely having sex, so that’s clearly not the issue. But he doesn’t even look at my belly. In fact, he acts like it’s not even there. And after he refused to feel the baby kick in the tub a few weeks ago, I’d prefer him to be like Lance and gawk rather than nothing at all.
My voice is tight when I reply, “So, it’s normal for guys to be a bit…detached. They can still make great fathers in the end?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I mean…a lot of people say that women become mothers the instant they find out they’re pregnant but guys need to see and touch the actual baby before they can really accept what’s going on.”
I sigh. “That makes sense.”
A loud crash cuts through the line. “Oh shit, Claire just knocked over my entire Tupperware of craft buttons. Dammit. I gotta go.” The line ends before I even have a chance to say goodbye.
“Who was that?” Josh asks, stepping up behind me in the kitchen as I pour more creamer into my coffee.
“My sister,” I reply cheerily as I turn, mug in hand. My eyes drift down his body as he stands before me in nothing but a pair of gray joggers. I clear my throat and focus on my thoughts. “She wants me to babysit my nieces Saturday night. I was thinking I’d bring them over here. Do you mind?”
“Of course, I don’t mind,” Josh says as he moves to stand beside me and pours himself a cup of coffee. He pins me with a serious look as he adds, “This is your house as much as it is mine.”