I spend all day running around to different showrooms, choosing specific items, so the builder can finalize our costs. The excavation of the land started while we were on our honeymoon, and we’re pushing to get the plans finalized and approved, so we can start construction right away.
I’m exhausted and sitting on the couch when Phillip comes home.
He thrusts a gift bag at me and smiles. “A little something to celebrate your pregnancy. I’m still just in awe of the fact that we’re having a baby. So, I was thinking you could open this present, and then we could have a bottle of wine, eat dinner in bed, and make love all night long.”
I stare blankly at him.
“Oh, shoot. That’s right. Well, I’ll find you something bubbly to drink, I can have the wine, and we’ll still make love all night long.”
“Phillip, I haven’t made anything for dinner. I’ve been running around all day, and I’m exhausted.”
“Oh, that’s right. Women are really tired when they’re first pregnant, right? Do you feel like going out?”
“Can I take a nap first?”
He sits down next to me, puts my feet on his lap, and massages them.
“Do I get this kind of treatment every night?” I ask with a content sigh.
He leans over and kisses me. “You can have anything you want, Princess.”
“Then, I want a foot massage and—don’t laugh—fried chicken.”
“Your wish is my command,” he says.
“You’re being so sweet.”
“I was crazy in love with you before, but knowing that you’re having our baby … it’s just incredible. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. What’s in the bag?”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Look inside.”
I pull out a beautiful journal. The cover is a rugged leather, but it’s wrapped shut with dainty pale blue and green ribbons.
“It’s beautiful, Phillip.”
“Open it,” he says.
I carefully untie it and see that the inside is just as beautiful as the outside. There is a wide array of papers inside—blue and green to match the ribbons, metallic, thin, thick card stock, watercolor, patterned, and plain.
“This is the coolest journal I’ve ever seen, Phillip. I love it.”
“I thought you might want to start a journal.”
“For the baby?”
“Yeah, like something she could read when she got older.”
“She?”
“I kind of think it’s a girl,” he says with a beaming grin.
“Why’s that?”
“Father’s intuition?”
“You’re cute.”
“Actually, I have no idea, but I don’t want to call the baby it.”
“So, we should name it now?”
“Not a real name yet. Maybe a nickname. But we’re not gonna call it a little monkey like Danny does.”
“Well, if you are Mac Daddy and I’m Mac Mommy …”
“We should call it Mac Baby?”
“Hmm. How about Baby Mac?”
He kisses me again. “Baby Mac it is. Now, let’s go get you some fried chicken.”
I pull him back toward my lips as I slide my hand down the front of his pants. “Maybe I’ve decided I’m not that hungry anymore.”
He strips off my clothes and then pulls me back on the couch.
Very quickly, he’s holding my hips, guiding me up.
I toss my head back and start to breathe deeply. It feels so good.
He feels so good.
The front door bangs open, someone gasps, and I turn to see Danny and Lori standing in the foyer.
I throw my arm across my chest and duck down behind the sofa.
I’m mortified.
So mortified.
“Oh, sweet. We get dinner and a show,” Danny quips.
“Danny,” Lori chides, smacking his arm. “Um, Jade, call us, when you’re, uh, ready for dinner,” she calls out as they back out of the door.
“Shoot! I forgot they were coming over. That was awkward,” I say to Phillip.
He unwraps my arm, kisses my cleavage, and mutters, “I’m not done yet.”
Then, I forget all about Danny seeing my boobs.
Of course, I know that Danny will never let me forget it.
When Phillip calls and tells him we’re going out for fried chicken and asks if they’d like to join us, he says something that causes Phillip to blush.
“What did he say to you?” I ask Phillip as we’re getting in the car.
“Nothing,” he says with a smirk. “Guy talk.”
“No, that’s wife talk. I’m not just some girl you got caught having sex with.”
“Princess …”
“Don’t Princess me.”
He leans over and kisses me. If he doesn’t watch it, I might throw up on him. I’m suddenly ravenously hungry, and if I don’t get food quickly, I think I’m going to be sick.
Pregnancy has turned me into a teenage boy. I’m either hungry or horny.
“He didn’t see anything, really. Said, once he realized what was happening, you were already covered up.”
“And what else? I know he said something dirty, Phillip. You blushed.”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Probably not.”
He kisses my hand. “Smart girl. Let’s go get you some chicken.”
I start giggling.
“What?” he says.
“He said something about deboning the chicken, didn’t he?”
Phillip laughs and then coughs. “I haven’t heard that term in a while. Danny mentioned something about chicken head.”
“Chicken head? What’s that?”
“Think about it. How do chickens eat?”
I bob my head up and down, pretending I’m a chicken picking grain off the ground, trying to figure it out.
Phillip is laughing so hard; he’s almost crying.
It’s then I realize what it looks like I’m doing and start laughing, too. “Oh, I get it.”
The good news is, when we get to the restaurant, the teasing about our couch sex keeps my mind off wanting to scream to the world that I’m pregnant.
When I get home, I’ll make the first entry in my journal. Maybe that will help me keep our little secret.
