“Well, okay. G’night, baby girl. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
My evening plans are now solidified. I’ll be figuring out how I can track Xandra’s search feed from the West Coast.
NINE
Hey there,” I coo at Leo as his picture comes into full pixelation on my laptop. I miss my man like crazy. I’m wearing Leo’s favorite pink tank top with a dab of lip gloss to match. I’ve added white cotton boy shorts that allow my plump butt cheeks to peek through the bottom hem just enough to make him salivate.
I have on the jade bracelet Leo sent me accompanied with a note explaining that in Chinese culture, jade symbolizes perfection, and in his mind, I am perfect. Oh, how wrong Leo is. There’s nothing perfect about the predicament I’m in, nor my indecision over telling Leo about the baby, but the FaceTime show must go on. After a week of Leo setting up and canceling calls due to work conflicts, we have both miraculously carved out an hour for this video date, so I think I’ll just enjoy Leo’s company for tonight and save the maybe-baby news for another time when I’m firmer in my conviction on what I’m going to do.
Leo’s smile stretches across the screen. I lean forward and kiss the monitor, my heartbeat picking up speed. He puts his index and middle finger to the camera on his side to receive it, fingerprints be damned. I pull back and wink, then relax into the pillows leaning against my headboard. I perch my laptop on my knees, ready to hear about Leo’s most recent adventures in Asia that I’m positive pale in comparison to the tween drama I’ve been counseling the girls’ volleyball team through.
“Have I mentioned the eighty-hour workweeks?” I flinch at the Graham déjà vu. “And if I’m not working in the office, I’m out for seven-course evenings with clients. Most of those courses being drinks, not food, mind you. And it’s always all men, thank goodness I have Sloan in the mix!”
“Yes. You told me,” I reply, not taking the jealousy bait from the mention of Sloan’s presence. This better not be some kind of gaslighting to cover up a guilty conscience.
“Where’s your dad?” Leo asks mischievously.
“He’s at one of Marisol’s son’s football banquets. He’s the fill-in grandfather.”
“I wish I could fill you in, Nina, you look beautiful,” Leo says as his hands head south and disappear. I can’t see where they’ve gone, but I can make a pretty good guess. He hasn’t even asked about my week.
“What’s going on here?” I ask, kind of annoyed. What, he has Sloan for stimulating conversation and me for screen sex?
“Nina, can you lean in closer, I want to see more of you in that top, that, by the way, has always been a little bit see-through.” On top of annoyance, I start to feel a little clammy and nauseated. I think I have a box of crackers on my dresser.
“I miss you. And there’s no reason we have to go another three months without, you know, when we have modern technology at our fingertips. Come on, baby, let’s give it a try. I told you we can make up our own rules to this relationship, and you got me aching over here.” I can tell Leo is eager for me to play in his fantasyland, but I have no interest in video sex when I feel reflux brewing.
“I’m pregnant.” In my head I can hear Fitzroy’s voice saying, Heel nevah go before toe. Deal with important matters first, or in this case, change the subject.
“Come again?” Leo’s hands magically reappear.
“Actually, that’s what got us into this mess in the first place.” I give a halfhearted laugh at my quick but queasy wit, hoping to crack Leo’s stunned face.
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re pregnant? How’d this happen?” Exactly the same thing I’ve asked on several occasions! See, not such a dumb question after all. I’ll have to tell Marisol.
“Apparently, Yosemite’s a very romantic spot, and inflatable camping pads are conducive to baby making.”
“Huh.”
Our first call in days, I’ve just revealed I’m pregnant, and Huh is all he can say?
“And you’re sure?” Leo double-checks. I nod and we fall silent. I spy the crack of a grin growing on Leo’s face, which is not exactly what I was anticipating, nor does it match how I’m feeling. Maybe it’s a facial tic. I’m not prepared for what looks like growing excitement on Leo’s part for a prospect I find unimaginable.
“I’m as sure as three positive home pregnancy tests in a construction zone and one OB-GYN appointment a few days later. And while you were starting to get freaky over FaceTime, all I could think about was texting my dad to bring me back some chicken tenders from the football banquet for when I wake up at two a.m. starving, so yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”
“Wait, you went to a first doctor’s appointment without me?!” Leo accuses abruptly, sounding perturbed. My man is all over the place emotionally on this phone call, and I’m the hormonal one.
“Ummm, I’m going to point out the obvious here and remind you that you’re in Singapore, I’m in Pasadena. How exactly would you be going with me to my appointment when we can barely find the time to connect with one another?”
Ignoring my verbal jab, Leo picks up his laptop and shakes it so all I see is his midsection, taut but jiggling with the moving screen. “With THIS!!” he demands. I’m getting queasier.
“Well, I’m sorry, I guess. But it made no sense to hit you with a pregnancy scare unless I was sure. Who wants to know that piece of unwelcome news?”
“ME! I WANT TO KNOW! I would have liked to know immediately if I were in the dad zone,” Leo insists, grasping at his chest to emphasize his presence. I have had plenty of girlfriends share their baby reveal stories from triumphant to tragic, but never have I heard one where the man was interested in being part of the “is she or isn’t she” pregnancy purgatory.
“Nina, I’m having a baby with you. This is incredible, beyond, beyond I don’t know what! This is more than video sex good!” Leo has broken out into a celebratory dance. “I didn’t think kids were in the cards for me, then, BOOM, you, my summer surprise, deliver!” Leo mimics lighting fireworks for emphasis.
“I didn’t know you wanted to have kids, we never even talked about it. I figured if you wanted to have children, you would have planted your seed in some fresh young soil.”
“Well, talking about kids isn’t exactly early relationship material. You have Xandra, and you’re on the backside of this parenting thing.” Exactly, I think to myself. “Truthfully, I was just focused on you and trying to get us past this period of distance when I knew I was going to be buried in work.” Wow, I really didn’t realize how committed Leo was to keeping our relationship alive when I was giving us a fifty-fifty chance.
“Being with you was, I mean still is, more important to me than having a baby. But if I can have both—YES, PLEASE.” Leo’s squeal is a bit disconcerting coming from a six-foot-two man, but it makes me giggle. I’ve just gotten a glimpse of what Leo must have been like as a kid on his birthday. And then it hits me, Leo believes we’re having this baby for certain. More than likely, he thinks my desire to have this baby is a given. I’m a woman, I’m already a mom, and I work in a school, which must mean I love the idea of being surrounded by kids all the time. Who wouldn’t presume my uterus wants to populate the planet?