TWENTY-NINE
Third Trimester Princess Tessa
Arthur
When we arrive homefrom Dr. Dropp's office, Tessa says, “I don't suppose you'll have time to assemble the cribs this weekend? Or is that a ridiculous thing to expect given your schedule?"
She's really not taking this whole ‘having to be awake during the birth’ thing very well. Not that I'm judging her—there's no fucking way I would ever agree to give birth to anything—so I can hardly blame her for looking for a way out.
Ben opens the door for her, but she doesn’t get out of the limo.
"I'm sure I can find time to put the cribs together. We don't have anything on the schedule for Sunday, so why don’t I take care of it then?"
She shrugs one shoulder. "You know what? Don’t worry about it. I'll just ask my dad to do it. Xav said he’d help."
That idea ruffles my peacock feathers a little more than it should. Shaking my head, I say, "It's something I'd really like to do."
“Okay, so long as you do itbeforeI go into labour and have to actually give birth to two babies whilst wide awake.”
There it is. The real reason she’s mad. I follow her out of the limo and up the steps, trying to maintain a safe distance. As soon as we walk through the back door, the sounds of Tessa's nieces and nephews running through the Grande Hall can be heard.
"I almost forgot were having dinner at my parents’ this evening." Tessa rolls her eyes.
"Any chance you will be suffering from renewed morning sickness?"
“Hardly. This dinner is to celebrate Irene and Bram’s engagement," she says.
“I would've thought this could wait since it's nearly Christmas."
"Yes, well apparently my parents like seeing their children and grandchildren as often as possible."
"Unlike my father?" I ask in a crisp tone.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it.” Tessa hurries down the hall...well, hurry is a relative term, I suppose. These days, she can barely manage to walk at all, let alone quickly. Not a surprise, really, since Dr. Dropp said she’s measuring as though she were forty-seven weeks pregnant. I stroll along next to her, a feeling of guilt coming over me as I listen to her slightly laboured breathing. I really shouldn’t be curt with her. If ever there was a time to be gentle and just let shit go, it’s now.
Just as we're about to reach the entrance to the Grande Hall, she sighs and says, "Let's just get this over with."
I take her hand and stop walking. “Tess, I’m sorry I snapped at you about my father.”
“That’s okay. I’m not exactly a barrel of laughs these days.”
“Completely understandable, given what you’re going through.”
“Right? These babies are squishing my lungs, even. There is literally no room for me in here.”
I give her a kiss on the forehead. “Poor girl. If it’s any consolation, I love you more each day, even if you are a bit of a bear.”
Her smile drops. “A bear? Thanks.” She turns and starts walking again.
Okkaaay, that didn’t go the way I hoped. Plastering a smile on my face, I resign myself to the evening ahead of me. As I watch the children come rushing toward me, I mutter, “Let the games begin."
When we reach Evi and Ruben's apartment, I help myself to three fingers of scotch on the rocks, secretly the teeniest bit giddy about how this evening is going to play out. Tessa's brothers have never seen her in angry pregnant mode, and I have a feeling she's about to give them the full treatment, which quite frankly the four of them deserve. I feel a tap on my shoulder, and when I turn, I am immediately locked in a fake boobs hug courtesy of the bride-to-be.
"Can you believe we’ll be brother and sister-in-law soon?"
Yuck. The look on her face doesn’t exactly say healthy brother-sister-in-law relationship. "Hard to imagine, isn't it?"
Tessa joins us, pouring herself a tall glass of cranberry juice. She and Irene get into a discussion about wedding gown designers, which is quickly interrupted by Lars and Nina, who are wearing matching 'you're so fucked to be having twins’ expressions.
