Children, see the miracle of life! Sperm, meet egg. Egg meet sperm.
Behold! Babies!
Yes, Babies, plural.
I didn't know that right then, of course.
I did know that our first time out was unprotected, but hell, who ever heard of getting pregnant like that—I mean, I was his first. So… next time, I make certain to have protection.
And there was a next time. Oh Boy was there a next time, and a time after that, and a time after that… Still waters run very deep…and Ron was making up for lost time…and ah, yeah, he got really good. In the sack on the couch, once or twice on the road…we were a nicely paired in our horniness.
Of course, because I now knew Kimmie's dark secret, we could go out and double date—Ron 'dates' Kim, I come alone, and Felix and Bonnie show up. Then we go to a golf park and suddenly Ron ends up on my arm, and Bonnie ends up on Kim's arm, and Kim proves that she's lousy at keeping a secret, at least from us, since she and Bonnie spend the whole night shifting between making dove eyes at each other and doe-in-the-headlight eyes when anyone else drops by. I thought Kim was going to have a heart attack when some kids from school waved. Felix, ain't gay, by the way—but Monique doesn't know and Kim… well they're both pretty terrified.
Then there's a few missions Kim goes on—"missions" that seen to coincide with Bonnie being out of town and that don't seem to go beyond a hotel room she booked. Ron's thrilled for her, but I'm not so certain. How strong can something be if you're unwilling to show it?
Heh. I know. Pot, Kettle. I haven't exactly suggested having Ron's parents walk in when I'm sitting on his lap. Still, I'm sneaky, and Ron isn't intending to keep it secret…he's just worried that until he's 18 we might find ourselves being separated in the legal sense. I've had enough of jails, so I can see his point.
But when I'm leaning over the toilet, puking my guts out for the fifth time in a day, I get a bad feeling. To make matters worse, I strip down and notice that I'm a little…chunkier than I was only a few weeks ago, as well as bigger up top.
Women have a sixth sense about this sort of thing, and my sixth sense was giving me a never ending monologue of "oh shit, you're knocked up."
OK…it's just a little flu. I get a home pregnancy kit and test.
Alright, so it's the nine-month variety… and it's already weird, because I shouldn't be showing right now. Which means I need a doctor.
Which means Kim's mom.
"Hi Dr. Possible. I know I'm 25, but I've been knocking socks with your kid's childhood friend and I'm knocked up right now, but weird things are happening, so could you restrain the impulse to throttle me until you can tell what's going on?"
That's pretty much what was said. She runs some checks, calls Ron and then gives him the death eye. He looks confused. I tell him. He looks terrified. I guess it's the 17 year old teenager's traditional allergies to the ideas of babies, diapers…that whole thing. Probably what I'm feeling.
Then she comes out and with a big smile tells me that nothing is wrong. My body is simply supercharged and healthy, right?
I say yeah.
She grins even bigger and tells me happily (because it's happening to me, and not her), that in about a month, I'm going to look like I'm at about four months, and progress on from there. I'm going to spend my last two trimesters looking like I'm about to burst—which is good for the babies, because they'll have room to develop and more than enough nourishment. She then prescribes a ton of nutrition supplements and diet stuff and looks at Ron, loses her smile and mentions that he might want to talk to his parents about this.
Oh Yes. The whole "hide the pregnancy until he's 18" thing just went out the window. I have two options, and one isn't even an option. I was brought up Catholic, and for all I've lapsed, the thought of an abortion doesn't even raise it's ugly head. I really hope Ron doesn't think of it, but all he does, is with that pole axed stare on his face, turn to me and mention that we'd better talk to his parents, because we need to get married. Soon.
I'm an adult, he's a teen. If he wanted to, he could dodge out, claiming I seduced him. (true, in a manner of speaking). He looks like he can't decide to be terrified or thrilled, but he takes my hand in his and asks me if I want to get married. If not, he says, when he comes to his majority, and the rest of the Naco money is his, I'd never want for money, even if I don't want to see him again.
Nutty hormones.
That's the problem. Everyone knows pregnant women have nutty hormones.
That's why I burst into tears at what he says. Doesn't have anything to do with the fact he didn't hesitate. Or he's promising to spend his life with me. Or that he's the first person to ever do that.
Nope. Just hormones. I'll be alright in a few minutes.
Of course, then I realize that after this moment, now we have to see the folks… and I gotta feeling that they aren't going to be overly pleased at their new potential daughter-in-law.
To be continued.