It takes us a long time to separate and I spend an even longer time cleaning her up, because it was…excessive. Tamara laughs about it, but this is how I got her pregnant. We strip the sheets, but don’t bother putting new ones on before we collapse onto the mattress. I admire her as she runs her hands over her belly, the size expanding faster than I imagined. I touch the underside of her bump in hopes of feeling the baby move, but clearly they’re asleep right now.
And Tamara? She’s completely naked, heavy breasts and brown nipples, warm skin with tiny mosquito bites; an absolute vision, really.
“Are you feeling better about today?”
She grunts in response, still annoyed with me for springing this on her. I had every intention of telling Tamara about the fuck up with my parents and how they’re coming to town, but Kabir showed up and threw everything into chaos. We confessed our love, but she needed time to deal with all of the noise in her head. And I understand. The noise in my head was getting really loud too. By the time I was able to tell her, it was yesterday, and the big meeting happens today. She’s not pleased, but that hasn’t stopped her from grabbing my cock and demanding things. I don’t need a reason to oblige her, but I feel like I need to make it up to her. So lots of sex, a lack of sleep and lots of reminders that I love her.
“I’m sorry, Lo,” I say for the millionth time, brushing her hair out of her face. The curls are tighter than usual, difficult to push my fingers into these days. “But I promise, my parents are upset with me and are excited to meet you.”
“They won’t hate me, right?”
“Baby…” I grip her chin and tip her head up so she can see my face.
“I didn’t set out to trap you, but I did.”
I laugh and stroke her bottom lip with my thumb. “Trust me, my mother’s been waiting for someone to trap me and we’re all very glad it’s you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I swear on every medal I’ve ever won.”
“Except mine.”
I grin. “I swear especially on that. By the end of the day, you’ll be wondering what you got so worked up about.”
She pokes me in the stomach and I wince. “I don’t see you complaining about me being worked up.”
“Not at all. I benefited from it and I am grateful for it. Today’s going to be great.”
“Is my son helping around the house?”
Tamara laughs at my mother’s question. “He’s been amazing. He’s making sure I’m eating my meals, cleans up after both of us and takes such good care of me.”
“I like taking care of you,” I say, matching her suggestive tone and she grins. Shaking my head, I turn to my mother. “Don’t worry, Amma. You raised me right.”
Amma beams and straightens her back. She knows she did a good job with all three of us. We’re reckless and do stupid shit, but when it comes to the ones we love, we will do everything. And it’s all thanks to Rachel Joseph. Who, shockingly, has been so calm since Tamara and I walked into the house. Since they’re staying with Elias and Vera, the two of them are here too in case we need a buffer. I don’t think we do, but it comforts Tamara to have Vera here. She doesn’t need it, because the minute my mother met her, she adopted my girl and vice versa. They definitely made sure to give me hell, which made Tamara laugh. Honestly, if it makes her look like that, I’ll let my parents be mean to me as often as they want.
We’re spread out around the living room—Dad and Vera on one couch, Amma and Tamara on another, while Elias and I are seated on singles, far away from our girls. It was planned this way so they could intimidate me, to stress me out and it’s working. We’ve talked about everything from what Tamara does for a living to how far along she is, when our next scan is, if we’ve decided on names and what the future looks like. She answered every single question without hesitation.
However, the answer to the last question was vague and I intend to rectify it as soon as possible. I have plans for us and I’m going to make them all happen.
“Okay, you three can leave,” Amma says, waving at us as she reaches for Vera’s hand. “I want to spend time with my daughters-in-law.”
Elias and I share a look, but our girls look totally calm at the title she’s bestowed upon them. The three of them squeeze onto the big couch like we’re not even there. Amma waves her hand again and my father laughs, clapping our shoulders to steer us out of the room. I look back and catch Tamara’s eyes dancing with joy. She smiles and blows me a kiss, which is the only assurance I need.
While my father and Elias sit in the enclosed balcony, I stop by to see Mariammachechi in the kitchen and give her the good news. She’s known me since I was a kid, so her teary reaction makes me emotional. She hugs me and offers tons of advice, then goes off to find Kuriakose to tell him as well. I don’t have the heart to tell her that her husband already knows. So I grab beers for my father and brother, and a glass of buttermilk for myself, then step outside.
They eye my non-alcoholic beverage and I shrug. “She’s not drinking, not sure why I need to.”
They share a look I ignore and raise a toast to the baby. I take a sip and settle into a chair looking out at the garden. Elias’s house is the perfect size for a family and while he didn’t buy it for that purpose, it’s got everything I want for Tamara and me. Since our visit to Millie’s place, I haven’t stopped thinking about buying us a house. I can afford it, so I’d rather own it outright instead of paying ridiculous rent for our forever home.
“Good on you, Pat,” my father says and I glance at him, puzzled. “When both of you started on your professional journeys, your mother and I were afraid you would get suckered into bad choices. Not because you’re incapable of making the right decisions, but it’s usually the bad ones that are more attractive.” He pauses to sip his beer. “You kept your heads up, noses clean and found yourself good Malayali girls. Your grandmothers would be so impressed.” We laugh, but when he sobers up, his eyes are watery. “I cannot tell you how proud I am to be your father. Even if you hadn’t fallen in love, the way your lives have gone, the things you both have achieved—you’ve done it with so much class and humility. I don’t take any credit for it, that’s who you are. But I am so proud.”
“Shit, Dad,” Elias mumbles, wiping his eyes and I do the same, shaking my head at my old man.
Emotion clogs my throat as I say, “Thanks, Dad. We’ll give you some of the credit. You raised us this way.”
Despite his waving us off, Elias and I move over to hug him. We’ve always been the kind of family to show affection, no matter the situation. While my father has never hidden his love and pride for us, it’s always humbling to hear him say the words.
