"I know you're skeptical, Pres. We're only just now getting to know each other, and now we have another human being to think about and plan for. But what I said still applies. I'm not going anywhere. The baby is a priority. Twenty minutes ago, when we had no idea if you were expecting or not, you were still a priority. You're the prize for me, Preston. Our baby will be a very loved and very welcome bonus."
And that was when my tears started flowing yet again.
"Don't cry, handsome. Why am I always making you cry?"
"Dammit, Joe, stop being so sweet to me. I'm not used to it."
My tears flowed this time, not because I was sad but because I was so freaking happy.
"I'm not going to stop being sweet, handsome, so you’re just going to have to get used to being special.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” I nodded and sniffed. “But I need to get dressed and get to campus. I have to try to be in class today. Don’t you have classes today, too?"
Joe thought about it for a second, then pulled out his phone to check his schedule. "Yes, I have an art history class this afternoon, but he doesn't take roll, and I've already watched the video we’re supposed to watch today. What time are your classes today?"
"I only have British lit this morning at noon, and then I'm done until Monday."
Joe gave me a squeeze, then went out of the bathroom and wound up in the kitchen from the sound of pots and pans. Over the din of clanging utensils, I heard him yell, "Call your doctor, and if you can get an appointment today, I'll go with you."
My heart thumped at his total willingness to step into this role. He didn't seem to have any misgivings, no hesitation at all. It's like he had been waiting for this day all his life, and now that it was here, he could finally settle into his life.
Or maybe that was me. Because as stunned as I was to find out about this miracle, I was also surprisingly calm. My greatest wish was coming true. I had a chance to have those colorful stick-figure crayon portraits on my fridge one day I had wanted so desperately weeks ago.
And maybe, just maybe, if I was very good and very lucky, I might have someone special named Joe to hold my hand in those portraits, too.
I went to my room to get my phone and call my doctor’s office. I was anxious to have my home test corroborated by a professional. It was a fact about my personality that I could complicate any situation with my pessimism. It was a very unique gift to have.
I dialed the number, and after two rings, I got their voicemail.
Thank you for calling the office of Dr. Gordon Trammell. The doctor will be out of the office from October 15th to November 1st. If this is an emergency, please call 911. Otherwise, please leave a message, and someone will return your call shortly.
Well, damn. I’d have to wait another week to get an appointment. It was frustrating, but I could deal with it, I suppose. I was just about to put my phone down when I got a text from Robert.
You’re being summoned to a meeting with your friends at Ribbits Friday night at 7 pm. Do not dodge this invite, and do not ditch us.
The guilt I felt was immense. I had absolutely been ghosting my friends because I didn’t know how to tell them what was going on in my life. Until I had figured it out, it was impossible to explain it to them.
As of this morning, I had mostly figured it out, so I could at least try to explain it Friday. Decision made, I texted Robert back.
I’ll see you then. Lots to catch you up on.
I set my phone on the charger by my bed, then called down the hall to Joe, who was banging around in the kitchen.
“I’m getting a quick shower.”
“Okay, breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes.”
He was cooking breakfast for me this time? I was beginning to think I hit the jackpot with my maybe, quite possible, mate.
I rushed through my shower with only one wave of nausea that wasn’t too bad. I got dressed in my favorite dress pants, shirt, and tweed jacket. I was tying my bow tie when I caught a heavenly smell coming down the hall. I followed the scent of cinnamon and vanilla until I got to my kitchen and couldn't believe what I saw. Joe had transformed my kitchen into what looked like a high-end bakery. The cinnamon rolls on the cookie sheets were as big as my hands and slathered in frosting. Fresh English muffins were slathered in butter, and what looked like fresh jam was simmering on the stove.
“Joe, what’s all this?”
“I wanted to find something you could eat and keep down today, so I decided to make a few things you can try.”
Scanning the baked goods all over my kitchen counters, I was stunned at the sheer skill it had to have taken to make all of it.
“You made all of this from scratch? You didn’t have the time.”
