“They just went into half-time and they’re still down by eleven.”
I sighed. “Michelle, do you have anymore of those candies?”
“Here, take the whole bag. I never took them out after Sam was born. They might be a little old though.”
“That’s fine. I just need something for this damn nausea and these are helping. I’m going to take Resha’s advice and freshen up a little bit.”
They all nodded and stepped away from the bathroom door, as I shut it. I pulled my lip gloss, concealer, and powder from my bag to help me touch up the bags that’d formed under my eyes from all of the throwing up. Once I coated my lips with my favorite gloss I pulled out my cell phone.
911 Answer your phone.
I sent the text message to Tyler, and before I could even hit send to dial his phone, my own phone was ringing.
“Destiny, baby, what’s wrong? Where are you?” he demanded, his voice strangled with worry.
“What’s wrong is that this kid of yours is giving me hell already. I spent half the damn day in the bathroom hurling up everything I’ve eaten in the last forty-eight hours and then some. And once I finally arrive to the game, once your kid has given me a break, I end up watching my husband perform like it’s his first game.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.
“Wh-what did you say?”
“I said you’re playing like shit.”
“About the kid.”
“Oh yeah, it turns out you’re going to be a father and this kid is going to be just as much of a hellraiser as you are.”
Tyler’s breathing increased. I could picture in my mind his nostrils flaring as he took in what I’d just told him, but I wasn’t finished just yet.
“And while you’re digesting that little bit of news can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Tell me how I’m going to explain to our son or daughter why their father choked in the big game. Why he played like it was his first damn game in the little leagues? Can you do that?”
“Father said you hadn’t arrived. That they were waiting on you.”
His voice was still strained with worry.
“I’m fine, babe.” My voice softened to a reassuring tone. “I promise. These ginger candies Michelle gave me are helping with the nausea. I might even be able to eat something. But not if you keep playing the way you are. Think you can do something about that?”
“A boy.”
“What?”
“It’s a boy. We’re having a son. I can feel it.” His voice had taken on a new energy.
“Yeah, well I’d hate for him to tease you for the next twenty years about sucking in the first Super Bowl you played in. And trust me, I will give him all of the ammunition he needs for his jokes. I’ll be the first one to show him footage of this game. Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, hell, even Halloween we’ll play footage to scare the trick or treaters.”
“He’ll see this game and the ring I won when it was all over.” His voice was full of the determination and confidence I was so used to.
“We’ll see you on the other side. Love you.”
“I love you more than you know. And our little man, too.”
I grinned as I hung up the phone, not bothering to tell him thatIhad a strong inclination that I was having a girl. Let him think what he needed to for the moment. I had a game to go watch.
I stuffed my phone back into my bag and exited the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind me.
