Beryl smiles. “I swear, you boys all strut around here like a rooster parade, but the minute a good woman practically falls into your lap, you lose your heads.Both of them. Think with your heart—not either head—and you won’t mess it up.”
8
Cassidy
16 weeks (baby is the size of a can of pop)
Red:I have scalloped, baked, mashed, AND roasted for tonight.
Cass:Weird way to propose, but yes.
“Cassidy Bowman, you’reflirtingwith him.” Blair’s voice echoes through my bathroom over speakerphone. “I bet you’re shaving your legs in that bath, aren’t you?”
“It’s friendly banter, that’s all. And, if it comes off a bit flirty, it’s not my fault. I blame this weird-ass body of mine.” I drag the razor up my calf as silently as possible. I don’t need her judging me for shaving. It doesn’t mean anything. I have to shave all the damn time thanks to my PCOS. “It’s like the moment I stopped wanting to vomit every two seconds, my body decided I need orgasms just as often. I’m taking a break from bingingGossip Girlbecause the vivid dreams I’ve been having about Chuck Bass are making me blush every time he shows up on the screen.”
“Then I don’t understand why you don’t hook up with your baby daddy. Are you worried about getting double-pregnant? Or his dick hitting the baby? What’s your reasoning?”
“I really love hearing a nurse practitioner say all of that.Veryreassuring about both our education and healthcare systems.”
I doubt Red would turn me down, but things have been sonice. He’s been so nice. Honestly, I’ve maybe been taking advantage of it a little bit because he seems to do anything I ask of him. The last thing I want to do is mess things up to scratch an itch. An itch a vibrator handles perfectly well. Most of the time.
“For the record, I know neither of those can happen… Well, superfetationtechnicallycan, but it’s pretty rare. Anyway,I’m trying to gauge whereyourhead is at. You’re the one who mentioned your text messages with him. Sue me for assuming that was because you wanted to hear my thoughts.”
“Go on,” I say in an unenthused tone.
“How many days in the last week has he stopped by your house?”
“Three, I think? Four, if you count the day he dropped off food here when I was at work. Mostly he stops by briefly to drop off snacks he thinks I might like or dinner when I’m working late. He’s making sure I’m eating enough because I’ve been so sick—nothing more.”
“How often do you text?”
“Pretty often… probably every day. But we’re trying to become friends. Y’know, for the sake of the child we’re going to have together.”
“He’s attractive, feeds you, and is at your house all the time, anyway. Why are you not jumping all over this opportunity?”
“Because, for one, it’sRed.For two, it’ll ruin any possibility of us having a non-toxic co-parenting relationship. I’m trying to keep this all professional. I can’t be trusted with oxytocin—you know this. I’m so delusional, if a guy is sort of nice to me I fall in love with him. I mean…clearly, because I refuse to believe staying in a relationship with Derek for a year was the result of anything but delusion.”
She wheezes out a yes around her laughter.
“Add in raging pregnancy hormones, and I’m fucked. I’ll fall for him because he cooked me potatoes, then realize how crazy I’m beinga few months from now, everything will implode, and we’ll still have to co-parent. So it’s staying strictly professional between us.”
“Ah, yes. Talking about eating mashed potatoes off of each other issuperprofessional.” I swear I can hear her rolling her eyes. “So if you’re not going to hook up with Red, why don’t you go out on some dates? Go enjoy your hot body and childless freedom.”
“I’m already a blimp. I’m so bloated and gross.”
“You sent me the tiniest bump pic yesterday. I know that’s not true, dummy. Chuck Bass and your vibrator aren’t going to tide you over forever.”
“They don’t need to workforever. Just long enough to get me through this strange pregnancy symptom. Maybe a few weeks or months. I’m sure I’ll be too tired and uncomfortable to want anybody near me eventually.”
She laughs. “Right. So you technicallycouldhook up and then go back to being whatever you two currently are when you’re no longer horny.”
“Red is not even under consideration, and you know my feelings about dating guys around here. So I don’t really know what you expect me to do.”
“That was a dumb rule even before you got pregnant. If you’re never going to date guys living within 100 kilometres of Wells Canyon, move away.”
I pull the drain plug and wrap a towel around myself, grabbing moisturizer from the cupboard and honing in on my legs. Only because I don’t want dry skin. Literally no other reason.
“Well, moving’s no longer an option. So…” As if I need a reminder that now there’s absolutely zero chance of me leaving my hometown.
