Making my way into the living room, I work to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone, Mama needs rest and frankly so do I. Thank you for all your help today, take the leftover pizza with you please!”
After herding everyone out, I grab the crackers and drink for Darcy. Finding her in her room, searching through boxes, I notice she has a slight shake in her shoulders.
“Darcy,” I start, my voice calm and steady, “talk to me.” I approach and cautiously pull her into my arms.
“I don’t know where my freaking pajamas are and I’m just so tired, Tate.” She whimpers. “I don’t want to sleep in my day clothes but I also can’t sleep naked. I’m exhausted and my brain isn’t cooperating and I just don’t know what to do.”
“I have an idea, be right back.” Disappearing and then hurrying back with one of my t-shirts and a pair of sweats in hand. Darcy is now sitting on the edge of the bed, the shake of her shoulders is gone and the stream of tears has slowed down quite a bit.
“Here ya go, Mama.” Leaning down to hand the clothes over, I notice that her cheeks have flushed at this new nickname. “Do you need anything else?”
“Um, yeah, actually.”
“Well don’t be shy now, spit it out,” I tease lightly.
“I need a Coke Icee and McDonalds fries.” Glancing at my watch, it’s only 9 PM so this should be an easy enough task.
“I’m on it. Take a shower, get comfy, I’ll be back.”
“Thank you, Tate,” she replies, and turns towards the bathroom.
I exit the apartment, hopping into my Porsche and taking off towards the nearest McDonalds. Picking up the fries turned out to be the easy part, finding a Coke Icee at 9 PM was not as straightforward. McDonalds didn’t have their frozen cola up and running. I try a 7-11 next, only to find theirs isn’t ready yet either. Three gas stations later, I’m stepping back into the apartment with the goods.
I tap softly on the door to Darcy’s room, even though it’s open.
“Come in!”
Bringing the food in, I find Darcy snuggled in the bed, phone in hand, hair in a messy bun on top of her head, my t-shirt swallowing her small body. My pulse quickens as the sight of her, here and now, sears into my memory. She, the mother of my future child, is gorgeous.
“I’ll have you know I traveled to four different gas stations before I found a Coke Icee worthy of you.” I bring the bag and drink to the nightstand, setting them down.
“Thank you. Really? You’d think every store had them.”
“Nope, four different 7-11’s later and here we are.” I sit down at the foot of her bed sucking down my own sugary slush. “My mom got back to me, by the way. She's hoping we can come by next Sunday for dinner and then I guess we’ll share the news.”
“Well I guess sooner is better than later.” She continues to munch on her fries as she speaks.
“Have you talked to your parents?” For just the briefest moment, the smile she was wearing falters, but she shakes it off, plastering it back onto her face.
“Dearest old Mother invited me to brunch on Saturday with my new beau.” She speaks in a debutante, patronizing tone. “I told her we’d be there.”
“Sounds like we’ve got to wear our Sunday finest and lift our pinkies as we drink tea then.” She giggles at my horrible Southern accent trying to match the debutante vibes she gave off previously.
“Yes and do make sure your beau knows which fork to eat his salad with.” She lifts her nose in the air as she speaks.
“Wait… which one?” I ask, eliciting more giggles.
I’m enjoying the sound of her laugh as we mock her Mother. Which, admittedly, on one hand is not good considering it doesn't sound like she will be pleased to meet me. But, on the other hand, Darcy doesn’t seem to be offended by my little charade.
“Oh no, we’re doomed. She’ll never accept you now.” Her smile stretched across her face before her expression sombers. “I don’t know how to prepare you for my parents but they are uppity, Karen-esque and they will view my pregnancy as a scandal.”
“Well, Darcy, I will be there to support you no matter how the conversation goes. I meant what I said, I want to be there for you and our little blob.”
“Thanks, Tate. I just hope they don’t scare you off, I like having you around.” She looks mortified that she said the last part out loud, quickly adding, “Having someone to fetch my Coke Icee and all that.”
“At your service, ma’am, no need to tip your driver. Get some rest. Goodnight, Mama.” I can’t help but sneak the nickname in one more time, just to watch her blush.
“Goodnight, Tate.”
