I think it’s just water weight?
Sin
Might be but it’s still cute. Have you been doing monthly photos?
Me
No! Omg, I’m going to start making Tatum take them for me. I mean I’m only thirteen weeks along so we didn’t miss too many.
Harls
Yes! Document this journey. It’ll be cool to see how you change and then see the blob outside of the womb.
Kodi
You’re calling it a blob, too? Ugh.
Me
What else are we supposed to call it? We don’t know if it’s he or she yet, so blob it is.
“Hey, you about ready?” Tatum’s voice causes me to jump.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to watch you take a picture of your stomach,” he says, stepping into the room, “may I touch it?”
“Um, sure. I don’t think you’ll feel anything and it’s mostly water weight I think.”
“That’s okay, I just want to say hello to our little blob.” He steps closer to me, dropping to his knees in front of me and I’m going to blame the pregnancy hormones for the way my pussy clenches at the sight.
“Kodi still thinks it’s weird we are calling it a blob.” I laugh as he gently presses a hand to my stomach.
“Hi, little dude or lady. It’s your dad here, just saying hello.” He speaks directly to my stomach and for some reason it makes me giggle and Tate looks up at me with his brow furrowed, “What?”
“I’m sorry it’s not you, this is very sweet, it’s just also very weird to me. I think that after the gender appointment they might be able to hear you.”
“That’s fair, this whole situation is a little weird, isn’t it?” He asks me.
“It definitely is. We need to take monthly photos to document my stomach growing, can you take one quick? Then we can go.” Tatum pulls his phone out quickly as I stand against the empty wall in my room, facing sideways and letting a small smile grace my face. Then Tatum does something that surprises me, he steps forward and gently lays his left hand back on my stomach snapping another photo before pocketing his phone.
“Thanks, let's get out of here.”
* * *
We barely makeit out of the car before Tatum's mom and seventeen-year-old twin sisters have their arms wrapped around us, squealing that they missed him so much and telling me how beautiful I am.
“She is, isn’t she?” Tatum says to them. I’ve chosen to forgo makeup today, which gives them a clear view of my cheeks flushing at his praise.
“Okay, people, let the woman breathe.” Tatum chuckles as they detangle themselves from around us. Up on the porch stands an older, yet still handsome, version of Tatum—his greying hair and numerous crinkles at the corner of his eye stand out to me as he grins at our approach. He wraps Tate in a hug before introducing himself.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Walter, this is my wife, Rose, and our daughters, Tessa and Tinsley. I think they forgot to introduce themselves in the excitement of things.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Walter. I see now where Tate gets his good looks from.” They all laugh at this and instantly I feel ten times more comfortable here than I did at my family brunch.
“Any friend of our Tate is welcome here.” Rose chimes in, smiling at her husband with so much love and adoration that my heart squeezes inside of my chest. It twinges in a more painful way, when my mind pieces together that Tatum told them ahead of time I am just his friend. I know I shouldn’t hope for more and that I’m the one who wanted a one-night stand, but the decision is slowly starting to come back and haunt me.
Following Walter inside, I notice the aura of their home is much different from the one I grew up in. It smells inviting, like freshly baked vanilla cookies. On almost every wall are pictures of family vacations, baby Tatum and his siblings, senior photos from all three kids, and other precious family memories—I can’t help but wonder how similar our baby will look compared to Tatum as a child. His hair much lighter, a carefree and lopsided grin on his face, his eyes still bright as ever. To the left of the entryway sits a family room that is, somehow, covered in more family photos. Two small, gray couches sit on opposite sides of a coffee table holding a few board games such as Scrabble and Monopoly. Across from the living room is a dining space, with fresh flowers sitting atop an oakwood table with six place settings. Speaking of food, whatever Rose has cooked up smells like comfort, matching the vibes of these people and this home. We file into the room, Tessa and Tinsley following Rose into the kitchen to help her bring the food to the table, when I offered to help I was told to have a seat because guests don’t work in this home.
