I sit on the couch waiting for him to come home, nervously running my hand over my 4 month old pregnant stomach. I just "popped" today and I wanted to tell him the great news, but again he is late. Lucas has been late now for three nights in a row and I'm getting sick of it. He doesn't even realize that he has a family here who loves him: a wife who's crazy about him, a 5 year old daughter who wants to be just like her daddy, a 1 and a half year old son whose first words were 'Dadda', and a baby on the way. I guess drinking is more important. The T.V is on, but I'm not paying any attention to it, so many things are racing through my mind… 'Is Lucas ok? Is he hurt? Is he cheating on me?' Then all of a sudden my phone starts to ring, thinking its Lucas I answer and immediately start yelling, not even realizing that my children are sleep.
"Whoa, calm down there B. Scott. It's only me, Peyton" my best friend Peyton said.
"Sorry P. Sawyer. I
didn't even look to see who was calling I just thought it was
him.
"Its ok, so I'm guessing that he hasn't come home yet?"
"Nope."
"I'm sorry, girl. Why don't you and the kids come up this weekend to get away from everything?"
"Is that a ploy to see your godchildren?"
"Maybe, and I want to see you too and that little baby bump of yours."
"Haha, you're funny. I don't know, I'll think about it and let you know."
"Ok, well I'm gonna go so you can keep the line open just in case your husband calls."
"Ok, thanks P. Sawyer and I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Ok, well call me if you need something."
"Will do."
"Love ya."
"Love you too."
