She smiles at me and curls into me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Well, sorry, but you have me now and this baby, and we’re always going to be a part of your life, so you better get used to it.”
“I’m starting to find great comfort in the idea,” I say while I drag my hand over her back. “And about tomorrow, are we going to find out the sex of the baby?”
“What do you think? Do you want to know?”
“I do, but if you don’t, I can wait. Practicing patience has been my MO lately.”
She chuckles. “I want to find out. I’d rather mentally prepare myself for what’s to come.”
“Me too. And then we can bicker over names.”
Her hand caresses my chest. “Do you really think we’ll bicker over names?”
“Well, let’s see. If the baby is a girl, what is your first name choice?”
She’s silent for a second and then says, “I really like Betty. Classic and sweet.”
“Uh-huh, and here I’m thinking Crystal would be a good name.”
“Crystal?” She pushes back to look me in the eyes. “No offense to all nice Crystals out there, but that’s a bonafide stripper name.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Uh . . . google it. Type in top stripper names and see what comes up.”
I grab my phone and type in top stripper names. And sure enough, the first thing that shows up is Crystal, followed by Tiffany and Amber, both names that I think are nice.
“See.” Penny points. “Stripper name.”
“What is the validity of this website anyway? Just because it’s the top link on Google. That means nothing.”
“It means everything. Face it, we’re going to fight over names.”
“Why are we even having this conversation? I thought we figured this out. Peggy Leggy and Johnny Jim.”
She laughs and curls back against my chest. “If you think we’re actually going to name our kid that, you need to seriously rethink every decision in your life.”
“Are you going to hate me if I say they’re starting to grow on me?”
“Yes. Oh my God, Eli, we’re not naming our kid Johnny Jim or Peggy Leggy.”
“You say that now, but when it’s zero hour, and they need a name for the birth certificate, you might be singing a different tune.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“So you, uh, you just show off your belly like that?” I ask, staring down at her exposed stomach.
She chuckles. “Yes.”
“And then Dr. Big Pecs is going to walk in and put his hand all over your stomach?”
“Well, he’ll use a wand thing, but yes, and guess what?” She leans in and whispers, “He’s seen my vagina as well.”
“Why did you have to say that? Now all I’m going to think is that he’s been digging around in there.”
“Well, first of all, there’s been no digging, and second of all, that’s his job.”
“You know what I mean.”
There’s a knock on the door just as Penny whispers, “Be cool.”
The door opens, and low and behold, Dr. Big Pecs comes strutting in, computer in hand, hair slicked back, wearing one of the tightest shirts I’ve ever seen. Well, of course, his pecs will look big when he wears a shirt three sizes too small for him. Can he even breathe in that thing?
“Penny, how are you—” He looks up and makes eye contact with me. “Oh, we haven’t met. I’m Dr. Bigpeckus. You must be the absent father.”
Uh, excuse me? Absent?
That’s a bold fucking statement.
But not wanting to start anything, for Penny’s sake, I brush off the comment and take the man’s hand in mine. “Eli, nice to meet you.”
He studies me for a second and then asks with a tilt of his head, “Eli Hornsby?”
“Yes, sir,” I say out of pure habit.
“Well, no wonder you haven’t been to any of the appointments. You’ve been busy playing hockey.”
What’s this man’s problem? Does he have something against hockey players? I want to ask Penny, but she places her hand on her stomach and says, “I’m glad he’s here for this appointment, the most important.”
“All of them are important, Penny, especially in this new journey you’re going through.”
“I would have been here if I could,” I say, feeling the need to put that out there. “Our schedules never matched up, unfortunately.”