She breathed easily, absently petting her bare stomach as she leaned back against Jerry on the couch, their empty food containers from the restaurant sitting on his coffee table. "I could get so so used to this," she smiled as he reached to absently pet her stomach as well.
"Hey. You never told me what Drew said when you told him about the baby," he realized, looking at the top of her head.
She breathed a laugh, "I haven't told him yet, silly."
He blinked at her, confused, "You- what?"
"I haven't told him," she repeated, shrugging. "I try to avoid him. I pretend to be asleep when he gets in and sleep when he's getting ready in the mornings."
"But- you haven't t- You don't think he's noticed?" he pressed.
She stiffened and he knew he'd said something wrong, "Are you trying to say I'm getting fat?"
He shook his head even before she'd turned around, "No! I just... You're glowing, my love. You have that glow." … And she was getting a bit far along. Already she was nearly four months. No amount of spinning could make this seem like she was any earlier. As cute as it was, she was very clearly pregnant. He wasn't sure how no one had asked her yet.
"... I don't wanna tell Drew," she whined, leaning back against him again.
".. Hunny, I think you're gonna have to," he smiled.
She sprawled out, sighing, "Fine."
"It's for the best," he reminded, grimacing. … He didn't think that. He thought she should leave Drew. Then it wouldn't matter who knew she was pregnant. Or how far along she really was.
But she had to tell Drew she was pregnant before she'd come back.
"I know," she groaned, stroking her fingers along her stomach again. She gasped before grabbing his hand and pulling it against her stomach.
"What is it!? What's wrong!?" he demanded before blinking in shock as she giggled, he feeling a small thump against his palm.
"He's kicking!" she crowed.
He nodded, "You definitely have to tell Drew. Tonight."
She stared at the ceiling and pet her stomach through her nightgown.
Drew was downstairs making the kids breakfast before school. And she... just didn't want to get up. … But she hadn't told Drew the night before, as she'd promised Jerry, so she had to start setting the scene.
… Which shouldn't be too hard. She was starving. … What did they have in the fr- Lamb. Oh, they still had lamb in the fridge.
Sure, Drew was cooking breakfast. But.. she didn't want eggs. She wanted that lamb she'd made the night before.
Groaning, she pushed herself out of bed, slipping her feet into her slippers and starting downstairs.
"-family, friends – at the house," Drew decided.
What?
"I already made out the invitations," Corky corrected, brandishing them.
She breezed into the kitchen, "For what?"
"For my birthday, mom," her son answered, she stopping behind him instead.
"Aww," she hugged him, leaning over and curling her arms around his neck as she kissed his cheek, murmuring, "My baby's turning into a man." She kissed his cheek again, repeatedly, "My first baby." She pressed another loud kiss to his cheek, he laughing, before she exhaled, standing up again and returning her focus to her original task: the lamb.
"Hunny, do you remember what we did nineteen years ago?" her husband asked, food in his mouth as he spoke, his voice muffled.
She leaned against the counter, unwrapping the plate of lamb as she reminisced, "Oh, the apartment on Shenadoah. One bedroom. We were terrified. There was a baby on the way and we were broke." She'd picked up a piece of the lamb now, nearly salivating at the scent. … Even cold... She took a large bite, Drew and Becca both eying her strangely even as she let out a high-pitched laugh and swallowed the bite of lamb. "We used to buy day-old bread. And then the cans – remember the cans!?" Corky was laughing now, he remembering the story probably, but she continued eating as she spoke – ironically a habit she despised in Drew, "The market used to sell us cans without labels on it so we didn't know what we were getting for dinner."
"Ya want some mint jelly with that, mom?" Becca asked, her lip still curled in disgust.
She ignored her daughter, looking to her husband instead, "Hunny, what are you doing home?"
"Oh, I just gotta see the kids off on their-" he looked to the kids, changing his tone to tease Becca, "first day at school."
Becca sighed, "The condemned ate a hearty meal before walking the last mile."
"I like school," Corky volunteered.
"Speaking of which," Drew brandished his watch in their daughter's direction.
"Oh, daddy, couldn't we just skip a year? Ya know, a sabbatical!" their daughter suggested, nodding encouragingly.
They both looked to her and she laughed as she continued eating.
"Goodbye, hun," her husband started, adding, "You know where I'll be." He turned to the kids adding, "Let's go."
Becca sighed, Corky announcing, "I get to sit in the front, okay, dad?"
"Okay, okay, okay."
… She hated when he talked like that to the kids. Hated it. … It made her think about killing him in his sleep – just reaching over and smothering him with a pillow while he snored. That'd fix all her problems: no more bed hog, no more blanket hog, no more pokes in the middle of the night, no more snoring, no more Drew.
He opened the door, the kids grabbing their stuff before starting to follow.
She stopped them, hugging them both to her, "Oh, my babies." She kissed Becca's cheek and then Corky's, "Goin' off to high school."
"Ew, mom," Becca started complaining, "you smell like lamb."
… Okay. That was a fair complaint. As long as she wasn't complaining about her doting on them.
She withdrew her hand from her daughter's shoulder, hugging her first baby instead as her husband came back, "Becca. Charles?"
Her eyes went wide as she clutched her son, echoing, "Charles?" Her husband rolled his eyes, clearly agreeing, before leaving again, Becca following.
"I'm grown up now, mom," her son explained, she feeling like someone had just poured a bucked of water over her heart. Like ice it was, hearing that.
"Come on, Charles," Becca returned, teasing, "Can't keep the hangman waiting." She left again.
She pet his cheek, studying his face. … He'd grown up so well. He'd accomplished more than she'd ever thought possible. She'd been told he might never walk or talk and here he was in front of her, telling her he was – she had to take a deep breath to keep herself composed – grown up now.
"Bye, mom," he offered, smiling happily.
Oh, her baby!
He pulled away, leaving her hand in the air where she'd been petting his cheek, and left, she reluctantly moving forward and closing the door. Leaning against it, she sighed before moving forward and resting her hand on the railing.
She still had to verbally tell Drew, though finally acting the way that seemed natural – she'd done her best the last couple months to suppress any outward symptoms of pregnant – probably would alert her dim-witted husband at least a little.
She jumped when the door opened, suddenly afraid she'd verbalized her thoughts and that she was caught.
But it was Becca. "Forgot my notebook," she explained, smiling as she picked it up, adding a "Bye, mom!" before closing the door again.
"How'd Drew take it?" Jerry pressed when he came home with their lunch.
She licked her lips – she'd tried to decide how to tell him she hadn't told her scumbag husband and decided the best way was to not say.
Instead, she shifted on his bed, inhaling and pressing her breasts out as she waited for him to come find her. "In here, love of my life!"
She heard him sigh, "You didn't t- whoa."
"Welcome home, Jer. I was thinking... maybe today we could start with..." She inhaled, running her hand along her bare side, "Dessert?"
He pushed his alarm clock and assorted clutter back on his nightstand, setting the bag down before hurriedly pulling at his belt. Almost frantically, he pushed his pants down, kicking his shoes off, before loosening the knot of his tie and pulling it and his shirt over his head, "Yeah.. Yeah, I like dessert. I could go for some dessert." He tossed his shirt aside before kneeling beside her in bed, leaning down and kissing her.
She chuckled lowly, curling her arms around his neck as she rolled to her back, "I was hoping you'd agree. God, what took you so long? I'm so hungry, Jerry."
He kissed her hard again, his fingers lightly tracing her side before petting her thigh. He slipped his hand between her legs, teasing her through her underwear. "Are you? Well I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Libs. Lemme make it up to you."
"That sounds like a fair trade," she agreed, smirking against his lips as she arched. She ran her tongue along her lips, breathing thickly, "Oh, God. I want you so much, baby." She groaned into his mouth as he continued teasing her. "Please," she whined.
He lightly nipped her lower lip before ignoring her request, only cupping the area between her legs as he started kissing down her neck. She let out another whine, playing into his hand – despite having had the upper hand herself when they'd started – by rocking her hips and grinding against his palm.
"You're so beautiful," he offered softly, kissing along the tops of her breasts before biting her nipple lightly through her bra, she gasping before letting out a groan and rocking her hips against his hand again.
"St- stop teasing. You're supposed to be making it up to me," she reminded, breathing thickly.
They were past the morning sickness now, for the most part, and he'd developed the irritating habit of driving her near to the brink with his teasing before finally giving in to her.
"Oh, but you like it," he returned. He moved his hand from between her legs, she letting out a bereft whimper, and placed it on the other side of her body, holding himself off her as he kissed over her stomach. His lips and tongue traced over the swell of her stomach before skirting along the line of her underwear.
She gasped, her head lolling back, when he started kissing her through her underwear, licking and sucking at the fabric as her legs fell open and she writhed.
"Oh- ohhh," she exhaled, nodding. "Yes. Yes, pl- oh... yes."
He stopped though, moving frustratingly down her thighs instead as he licked and sucked at her still-tan legs. "Oh? Did you like that?" he encouraged, stroking her inner thigh lightly before switching legs and kissing her other thigh. He nipped lightly before sucking hard and she closed her eyes, mewling and wondering how she'd explain a hickie on her thigh to Drew.
But all thoughts of her idiot husband left her mind when Jerry's mouth descended again through the cotton, sucking hard and making her groan loudly as she rocked her hips up.
He reached a hand up, working a clothed breast, and she covered his hand with one of her own, pressing it harder against her plump flesh as she dug her teeth into her lower lip and nodded her encouragement.
And then he maddeningly pulled away, moving back up her body to forage her mouth as he worked his hands between them, pushing her underwear from her hips. She helped, exhaling through her nose as she pushed at the cotton underwear before shimmying out of them and moving her eager fingers to his waistband.
"Oh, God. I want you more than anything, Jer. T- oh, God, baby. Take me," she pleaded, her voice hot against his lips as she shoved at his boxers.
He smiled, kissing her again, before moving down her body – stopping to teasingly bite her through her bra again – and between her legs. He held her thighs apart as he ran his tongue along her, she gasping her pleasure. "Like this, Libs? Is this what you wanted?"
She swallowed, whimpering as she gripped his hair with one hand, the other pulling one of his back to her breasts. He gave an indulgent squeeze before obediently squeezing harder as she pressed his hand harder against her breast.
"Oh- oh!" she moaned loudly. "Oh, Jer- Jer! Yes! Oh!" She threw her head back as his tongue continued flicking deliciously against her before prodding her entrance teasingly. She pulled his mouth higher, back to her clitoris, before letting out a low, keening moan when he focused on it. "Oh- oh, God- yes! Jer- Jerry! Ohhh!"
He moved his other hand from her thigh, instead moving his fingers below his mouth and thrusting two digits into her, she squeezing around him as she let out another moan.
"I love you so much, Libby," he told her, speaking against her lowly before resuming his task of alternating hard sucks and rapid flicks of his tongue.
She crowed, starting to shiver, before digging her nails into the hand at her breast, "Oh- oh, Christ! Ye- oh! Jerry!"
He nodded once in encouragement, not wanting to stop to speak and ruin the moment, and was rewarded with a loud gasp before she wailed, cumming around his fingers as she surrendered to the pleasure.
Smirking, he moved his head, withdrawing his fingers, "That's my girl. Is that sufficiently made up for?"
"W-ohh," she exhaled, her head lolling to one side as she panted, trying to recover. She managed several deep breaths before pushing his boxers down properly and forcing him to his back. She straddled him, his hard length filling her and making her let out another low croon. "Oh, Jerrry. Oh.. God. I- I want you so much. I love you, my darling." She kissed his cheeks and mouth before pushing herself back up. She quickly stripped herself of her bra before gripping the headboard as she started moving on him.
"Aren't we aggressive?" he smirked briefly, proud of his momentary win, before closing his eyes and biting his lip as she moved harder. He forced his eyes open, always one to enjoy the sight of her during their love making.
She exhaled, shaking her hair out as she let her head tip back, "Ohhh.. Oh, Jerry. God, you feel so good. I- I can't- ohhh, Christ." Surprisingly, she reached, groping her own breasts – she'd told him in no uncertain terms that they were too tender after climaxing while pregnant – before letting out another groan. She fumbled, her own eyes shut, before finding his hand and leading it to her breast. "C-careful," she instructed. "Y-you have to be gentle."
Smiling, he leaned up and kissed her breasts lightly – kissing and sucking teasingly and making sure not to graze her with his teeth – as he gently worked her other breast with his hand. "I love you, Libby."
"I love you," she returned softly before swallowing and starting to move her hips more ardently against his. "Ohhh- ahh-ahh-ahhh- Jer-Jerry- ohh- oh!" She near squeaked when he teasingly pinched her nipple.
"Too much?" he asked, nervous.
But she shook her head, instead kissing him hard as she moved against him, groaning into his mouth.
Emboldened by her response, he repeated the action, tweaking her nipple before moving his other hand to her rear and guiding her movements, encouraging her to move more slowly to better juxtapose the two sensations. She gasped and moaned loudly, but didn't slow her pace. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly, before rolling them over.
Now in control, he slowed their pace, moving in her purposefully – with deliberate slowness that encouraged him to move deeper and left her panting thickly between moans. His pace now established, he carefully tweaked her nipple again, sucking at her throat at the same time, and she arched, starting to scratch desperately at his shoulder and back.
"Pl- oh, God. Please, Jerry, baby. I'm so cl-close – yes- yes- oh- ohhh- yeah- mmm," she managed, her voice low when she managed to force it out between pants and moans.
"Do you want me to do it again?" his own body beginning to tremble as well.
She arched in answer, biting her lip hard in anticipation.
And he nipped lightly at her earlobe, ordering, "Tell me."
"Yes!" she managed, her voice a breathy cry as she rocked her hips up.
He shifted so his body pressed against hers more as he tried to push deeper and hit her clit before switching and tweaking her other nipple, she letting out a whimpered whine in response as she arched again.
"So-so-so so close," she repeated, panting. "J-Jerry, please. Please-please-please- ohhh."
He exhaled, knowing he wouldn't last much longer, before pinching her nipple and immediately moving his hand between them to roughly work her clit.
That worked, sending her over the edge with a shudder and an incomprehensible scream of pleasure as she dragged her nails down his back. Which, in turn, finished him.
He rolled off her before tugging her closer as they clutched each other and panted.
"I love you so much," she reminded, her eyes closed.
He panted, looking to her beautiful form, before smirking, accusing, "You didn't tell Drew, did you?"
She whined, weakly hitting him, "How'd you know?"
"Libby," he started, sighing, "you have to tell him. You're already feeling the baby kick. How are you going to explain this?"
She ignored him, scooting closer and getting comfy as she laid on her side.
"Libby," he repeated.
She opened her eyes, "I can't just... blurt it out. I have to... set the scene. Let some of my symptoms leak."
He blinked, drawling, "I'm sure he's noticed."
"I doubt it. He's very dim. But I'm setting the scene. I'm gonna tell him. … Tomorrow night," she claimed.
"Tonight," he insisted.
She shook her head,"I have to … lay down hints. This morning I indulged in my pregnancy cravings. In front of everyone. I had lamb – cold lamb – right off the bone. Later I'll throw another symptom in and then I'll tell him tomorrow."
He exhaled,, shaking his head, "... If that's what you think is best. But I want you to call me if he gets wise. I don't want you or the baby in harm's way. Do you understand?"
"Yes, hunny," she agreed, kissing his shoulder and closing her eyes before opening them again, "What'd ya bring for lunch?"
She sat at her vanity, waiting for him as she scanned the paper. … It was ludicrous if he thought she didn't know he was coming. Not only did he make noise with every heavy step, he reeked. He smelled like the restaurant. It was a damn good thing she was past her morning sickness or she'd have thrown up from the scent.
He came up behind her, dropping a hand to her shoulder and offering softly, "Hi."
She forced a smile, reaching up and covering his hand – it was an affectionate gesture and one, admittedly, intended to hopefully mask his smell now that his hands were closer to her nose – with her own. She turned his hand in hers, pressing a light kiss there before deciding to share her enhanced sense of smell since she was sharing symptoms. She sniffed at his hand, telling him, "Oo, you smell like onions."
"Occupational hazard," he excused, smiling in a way she was sure he thought was charming.
… And 'occupational hazard' or not, he could've washed his damn hands before coming in here that way.
Ever since she'd forced herself to be intimate with him so he'd think the baby was his, he'd been pushing more for sex and she – much as she hated him and herself for it – had to agree so he'd believe they were okay and she could return to work for Jerry. But since he was coming in here, she was sure, for sex, he could've at least washed up. Honestly. Did he think work stench of grease and onion was a turn-on? Please. Even pregnant, the scent of food wasn't going to get her motor running.
He shifted, one arm on either side of her, effectively trapping her at the vanity with his bulk if not by force... Not that he'd force himself on her with their bedroom door open. "I remember my grandfather used to come home from his restaurant. And he'd walk in the room," he laughed as he spoke, looking at her in the mirror.
She leaned against one hand as she looked back at his reflection, deep in thought. But he didn't notice, still regaling her with stories of his childhood – were these supposed to turn her on? How did she ever end up married and pregnant with his child?
… Fucking sixties.
See what weed and free love led to?
Oh, if she could go back now and tell herself where she'd be... She wouldn't be here. No. She'd... She'd be on Broadway. And maybe married to Jordan. Or maybe she'd clue herself in on how to still get what she'd wanted. Maybe come to Glenn Brook even as a big, Broadway star. And come sweep Jerry off his feet.
He stroked her arm, jolting her slightly out of her reprieve. And then he took her hand from under her chin, kissing it and continuing as he leaned his head against hers, "-his hands were, uh, garlic and oregano." Was he trying to appeal to the Italian in her? What was he talking about?
He kissed her shoulder through her nightgown, continuing, "His right arm was beef." She kept the same, plastic smile on her face, forcing a closed-mouth giggle as he moved around her to kiss her other shoulder, adding, "His left shoulder was ham." He kissed up by her left ear, hugging her, "And behind his ears, he smelled like sweet wine." He pressed another kiss there.
… What the fuck was that story? Was he talking about his grandfather still? Why did his body parts smell? And why was this supposed to be a turn on?
Drew had no game. How had he knocked her up?
He looked to her reflection, she noticing that her own features had fallen from the forced look of happiness. "... Are you happy, Drew?"
… She hadn't meant to say that. It'd just... slipped.
"Right now or in general?" he asked, his voice taking on a sleazy cadence as his eyes dropped to her full breasts in their reflections – he was still holding her wrist, the position he was holding her arm in giving him a glimpse she rarely allowed.
… He'd noticed that symptom.
He kissed her neck, not waiting for an answer, and she pressed on, "I'm really asking."
"I don't know," he confessed, his eyes meeting hers briefly in their mirror again as he continued, "... Sometimes. Enough of the times, I guess. I don't really think about it." … He wouldn't. "Are you?"
"I was thinking of going back to school," she revealed. It wasn't a complete lie. She was more... thinking of going back to work for Jerry. But 'to school' was a better ploy. Plus he'd be more apt to approve of going back to work when the alternative was doing something that would drain their funds. "Four nights a week. I'd get a business degree."
He dropped her wrist, support his weight on either side of her as he pushed up, showcasing his height and, therefore, power over her, muttering, "Well, I guess that answers my question."
She supported her chin again with her hand now that he'd freed it, "Oh, no, hunny. I'm not unhappy with you." … That one was a lie. "I'm not unhappy with -" She couldn't finish, her mouth open as she tried to find words. She gave up, continuing, "It's just that.." She shrugged, "Well, I was wondering what's next." Another lie. She knew what was next: this baby. But... he didn't know that yet. And.. she had to get him worried about their financial status – either through school, which she doubted she'd have the energy to attend even if Drew did okay it, or through this baby – if he was going to okay her going back to Jerry. He inhaled, eyes darting nervously in their reflection, before looking down as he moved to sit beside her. She barreled on, "Hunny, the kids are practically grown. And if Corky keeps doing as well as he is, it won't be long before it's just you and me." God, help her. "And I want it to be -" she stopped, breathing harder now.
What did she want it to be? … She didn't really want it to be just the two of them. She'd grown too disenchanted with him and his misogynistic behavior over the years that she wasn't sure she could fall in love with him again, even if she tried and wanted to give up Jerry.
She looked away, feeling guilty, "I don't know. … I want it to be better." Because she did. Because... deep down, a very real part of her did wish she could just love her husband. Because, even if it wasn't the life she'd wanted or planned, it was her life and she didn't want to hurt her family. And she wanted to be happy. But she was so sure she couldn't be that with Drew anymore.
He looked down before looking to her, reminding, "Well, Becca's college is gonna be a tough one." So he was worried about their finances. He exhaled, continuing, "But.. if we're real smart now and the restaurant -" he stopped, knocking twice, "-knock wood, keeps going, I can see us in the clear." How. Romantic.
'I can see us in the clear.'
… She should've listened to her mother.
"I could really help with that business degree," she pushed, knowing he'd be more concerned with the immediate withdrawals from their account than what she could add to it in the long run.
"Yeah," he nodded, the enthusiasm drained from his voice. He was worried. "Five, six years from now, I'll get a really good manager-" No he wouldn't. He wouldn't want to pay him. "-work half time, hang around the house-" She smiled again, knowing it was what he wanted. "-take trips together." She let out a weak, closed-mouth groan, like she was looking forward to it. Because it was what he wanted and expected. "-make love in the afternoon-" She opened her mouth for this exhale, a weak laugh tinged with a moan, as he kissed her hand, holding it in both of his own. "When's the last time we've done that, huh?"
Ugh. So he was back to sex. … She thought she'd derailed that train.
"I don't think I remember how," she told him, her voice a soft, teasing song. Seductive but … suggesting they not.
"It's like riding a bicycle," he tried, she smiling thinly.
She leaned, taking a deep breath through her nose before kissing his hand, "Ooh, hunny... you gotta wash those hands." He seemed disappointed and, feeling the baby kick, she reached out and stopped him, "You go to the bathroom and clean up and I'll..." She trailed off, playing with the lower hem of her nightgown, before waggling her eyebrows suggestively, "I'll just tighten my spokes."
His eyes flicked from her lips to her breasts and back up to her eyes, cautioning, "Not too tight." She breathed a laugh before he laughed as well, getting up and kissing her forehead. He started for the bathroom, "You just steer, pedal, … coast-" he waved a hand, "downhill." He disappeared into the bathroom before closing the door.
She looked back to her reflection, fighting her sigh of irritation. … Now she had to sleep with him. She hadn't meant to. She just... was worried he'd read the surprise in her face at feeling the baby kick. So she'd panicked and tried to distract him.
And now she had to sleep with him.
Getting up, she started for the kids' rooms, hoping one of them would have an urgent, pressing need that she, as their mother, would need attended to before she could 'fool around' with Drew. And then, maybe, he'd be asleep.
She was caught, though, gasping sharply, when Drew opened the bathroom door. His shirt was off and he had a towel around his neck.
"Couldn't wait, huh?" he smirked.
She decided to go with another pregnancy symptom: severe hysteria and irrationality.
She grabbed the towel, pulling him closer, "Just hold me." He seemed shocked and disappointed as she curled her arms around him but he indulgently slipped his around her in return, she repeating, "Just hold me."
He sighed his irritation, but – she assumed – due to her feigned desperation, didn't complain.
Instead, he guided her to their bed, walking slowly and carefully past the stairs and through their doorway – which was a bit of a squeeze, not that he mentioned it – before helping her lay down. She clutched at the towel around his neck again, whimpering, "Drew?"
"Shh.. I'm right here. I'm just getting into bed," he assured her. She shook her head, starting to cry – she would've been so good on Broadway – as she gripped the towel tighter. He indulgently didn't pull away, instead climbing over her to get to his side of the bed, she feeling a brief twinge of guilt when she felt his erection as he moved over her. But she stamped it down easily, moving to her side and nosing against the towel. "It's alright. Shh."
Crying. Crying was another good symptom.
She went with that, crying harder against him and the towel and letting her body shake with her sobs – that was a boner killer, right? He gently pet her shoulder, she eventually quieting before feigning sleep.
He carefully moved away from her, moving a pillow to support her and leaving the towel she still had a fast grip on, before slipping away and back to the bathroom.
… So much for a boner killer.
But it got her out of it.
She exhaled as she stared at the stick. .. This was absurd. But... better to have her bases covered. Even if it seemed ridiculous to be taking a home pregnancy test when she'd felt the baby kick the night before. She knew she was pregnant. But... her 'sudden' admission would be more believable if there happened to be the test and box in the trash. So.. might as well play the part. … And it had to read positive if some happened to check it – gross. But you could never tell with her nosy children and idiotic husband.
She trashed both sticks and the box without waiting for the timer to go off – she knew what it'd say.
What she was more concerned about was that she was now far enough along for Sylvia to do that amnio thing she'd wanted to do. With that great big needle. Which she'd forgotten about – she'd refused when she went in earlier, Sylvia's admission that she might lose the baby by doing it so early enough to make her tell her doctor she wouldn't budge. But Sylvia had called again, before she'd gone in to pee on the stick that she knew would say she was pregnant.
And her doctor was insisting that, now that she was further along, she should take it. Now there wouldn't be a risk to the baby, at least as far as Sylvia was admitting, and it would tell her and her doctor if she could carry it and if her baby was healthy. And, as Sylvia had pointed out, she was over thirty-five, had one downs child, and two miscarriages (which she'd admitted to after Sylvia had told her one). So.. She really should get the test.
… She hadn't even considered that this baby could be a downs baby. Or that she could miscarry. Which was silly, of course. As Sylvia had pointed out.
But she didn't know what to tell Jerry. … Obviously something if she was going to let him assist in paying for her doctors. Which she'd have to do. Since she didn't have medical insurance since she wasn't working. And Drew's damn restaurant hardly covered her. So even if she went back today, she had to let Jerry help offset some of the costs of her pregnancy. He'd let her keep a company card and checkbook after Hawaii, which she'd used at the doctor the other day, but … it made her so nervous.
Sighing, she left the bathroom, going to her bed again and sitting down, tugging the phone into her lap and chewing her lip, before dialing.
"Thank you for calling Berkson & Berkson."
She nearly growled at the perky, young voice on the other end. Forcing a breath, she ran her hand over their baby, "I need to speak with Jerry Berkson."
The girl answered, not sounding sorry at all, "I'm sorry, Mr. Berkson is busy at the moment. May I take a message?"
"No. Busy doing what? I need to speak with him. It's very important," she insisted.
"Is this the former Mrs. Berkson?" the girl guessed.
She blinked, "No. Please put Jerry on."
"He's in a meeting," his assistant hissed before speaking in a normal tone again, "But I'll be happy to take a message. Who's calling?"
She growled before hanging up.
She couldn't wait for their lunch date. She had to talk to him now. Sylvia had scheduled her appointment for the two mornings from then. So if she was going to cancel, she had to do it then. What if they gave her the runaround when she called? And this was an expensive test. The girl at the front desk had said twelve hundred. Canceling too late meant you paid half, sometimes the full cost.
She sat by the window, looking out at the stars. She'd been upset all day after missing Jerry- the louse hadn't shown up for lunch either, calling late instead and telling her about a meeting that had run over – and she still hadn't decided what she was doing about the amnio test.
And she still hadn't told Drew about the baby. But she had to. And she'd promised Jerry- even if he was a worm who blew her off.
But she'd promised. And she kept her promises. … Except to Drew. Who was an even bigger worm than Jerry.
Sighing, she got up, pacing by the foot of their bed. Yes, she'd promised, but she had other things that were more important than her promise. And she wasn't even speaking to Jerry until he gave her a better apology. But she still had this test she was upset about. She was nervous and worried and.. yes, panicking. Because she wasn't used to having to make these decisions on her own. And, damn it, she shouldn't have to.
Licking her lips, she managed a swallow before she went to her side of the bed, climbing in and kneeling before sitting beside her sleeping husband. As predicted, the movement woke him up, he looking around in confusion.
"What's happening?" he demanded.
She spoke softly, her voice almost a desperate whisper, "Hunny, I need to talk to you."
He pushed himself up on his elbows, "Is everything okay?"
Did she usually wake him up in the middle of the night for chit chat?
She started crying, these tears real as opposed to the ones from the night before – damn Jerry. "Everything's either wonderful or- L-look at me," she started, looking down, "I'm in a cold sweat, my heart is racing, I feel so-"
"Baby," he started, she finally looked up from where he'd grabbed her hands. "What's wrong?"
"I feel so stupid," she breathed. … And in many ways, she did. It was... It was time for as much honesty as she could give him because she couldn't make this decision alone. "Drew, I'm pregnant."
He sat up and she couldn't tell if he was angry or just shocked, "What?"
"Oh, don't be mad. I couldn't deal with it if you were," she told him lowly, shaking her head as tears slipped down her cheeks.
"Mad?" he echoed, still not cluing her in as to how he felt before finally, "You're crazy. I think it's wonderful."
She let out a tear-strangled breath then, hugging him, "Oh, I was so worried." And he curled his arms around her in return and she did feel guilty for doing this to him. "Oh," she pushed away to look at him, still crying, and he pushed her hair back before squeezing her upper arm soothingly. "All our plans; getting out from under and everything."
"Oh, don't worry about that," he soothed, breathing a laugh, "Who cares about that? … A baby?"
No. A cat. Why did he have to alternate between being the man she fell in love with and the fucking moron who couldn't remember the conversation they were in the middle of? This is why they drifted apart and she was carrying Jerry's baby. Because Drew couldn't stay the Drew she needed. He'd be so sweet and kind and sympathetic and helpful one minute and the next he was ignoring her and implying she was stupid and ignoring their children and hiring sexy waitresses.
"We're gonna have a baby," he repeated.
She nodded, trying to keep the irritation off her face. Yes. That was what she'd fucking told him. Damn it. Swallowing, she pressed, "Are you happy about it? Are you sure?"
"Are you kiddin'?" he returned
Who joked about this kind of question!? She was pregnant and crying in the middle of the fucking night! Why would this be a joke!?
"I'm- I'm- y-eah; yeah," he nodded.
"Ya know what they called me in the doctor's office?" she started, forgetting he couldn't know she'd been there since she'd used Jerry's account. She exhaled, he petting her shoulder, "A late-in-lifer." And he was smiling broadly, clearly proud of himself despite what she'd just told him. And his thumb was brushing against her breast far too often. But she needed his input so she couldn't storm off. "Drew, are we gonna have the energy for this?"
"Sure," he soothed, smiling widely, proud of the swimmers who weren't his... not that he knew that.
She shook her head, insisting, "It's gonna be so different having a baby now." Not the least of which would be who her baby would call 'Daddy.' Obviously, Drew. But also Jerry? Jerry wanted to be involved – he'd told her so – but how much could he be? How much could they trust this baby? This was... a hell of a secret. And she wanted to believe it would work out but... "We're gonna be old parents." He pushed her hair back again. "When this baby graduates high school, you'll be sixty." His features started to fall, she continuing anyway – maybe she could get something else out of this. "And the money. Forget about traveling. Forget about anything. Do you know what it's going to cost just to have the baby? Where are we going to get it from? Hunny, do we have health insurance?"
He'd finally found a question he could answer, offering, "Of course we do." He smiled again.
But she started crying, pressing, "Do we have maternity insurance?"
"... We'll deal with it," he soothed, shaking his head. "We always do." He breathed a laugh, "We'll have to."
She licked her lips, returning, "As long as we both want it." Which was a lie because she'd sooner kill Drew than get an abortion. He moved his hand from her shoulder, cupping her cheek as he exhaled and she let out a shuddered breath of her own, crying, "I'm so glad you want the baby. I'm so glad." She hugged him tightly, he returning the embrace, as she continued, her voice thick with tears, "It means so much to me." She released him, breathing a laugh of her own, "I'm so glad that you want him."
"Him?" he echoed, petting her hands where she'd dropped them to her lap.
… She shouldn't know. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
While, technically, her doctor hadn't been sure, Sylvia had just very strongly guessed a boy.
"It's just a feeling but," she bit her lip, shrugging and hoping he'd buy it, "... I don't know how to describe it. … I already know him. And it makes me afraid. I'm afraid of losing him"
He cupped her cheeks, shaking his head, whispering, "That's not in our hands."
"But it is," she corrected, crying again. "They want me to take a test. And the test could make me lose the baby."
He wiped her tears before lightly petting her hair, "Well.. so don't take it."
"But the test will tell us if it's healthy, if I can carry it, if it's another downs baby," she argued, her voice dropping as she realized she'd started speaking far above a whisper. And she knew she'd take the test, even if it meant she might lose him. Yes, she would've liked to talk about it with Jerry, but... At least she'd made a decision. … One anyway. Her voice was choked with tears when she spoke again, forcing out, "I want a healthy baby, Drew. I want him to be – healthy and p-erfect. But if he's not, wha'do we do? What's fair?"
"We'll see," Drew soothed, wiping her tears, "Just wait and see." He pet her arm before breathing a laugh, teasing, "He's not even born yet and he's already keeping us up at night." She laughed as well, hugging him again. He pulled back, smiling eagerly, "Should we tell the kids?"
She looked down, shaking her head, "What if something goes wrong? … It would just be too hard for them. I don't want to get their hopes up. Nmn y- not yet. Not until we know." He continued wiping her tears from her cheek and chin as she stared at her lap. He leaned closer, kissing her happily. She broke the kiss, hugging him tightly as she let out an almost whimpered laugh of relief.
"Let's get back to sleep," he suggested, petting her arm. "We have … what? Eight to twelve years of being woken up in the middle of the night. Let's get our rest while we can, huh?"
She nodded, turning and laying. And, for being there and listening and helping her decide, she didn't push him away when he spooned his body behind hers. … But she didn't let him rest his hand on her stomach. It would be catastrophic if he felt the baby kick now.