THIRTY-ONE
Don’t Know What You’ve Got ‘Til It’s Gone
Tessa
Iwake up from a napfeeling sweaty, hot, hungry, and thirsty. Heaving myself out of the bed, I slowly make my way to the washroom to go pee and brush my teeth. When I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I realize that being on bed rest probably doesn't really mean I need to stay in my pajamas with unwashed hair all day. Besides, what if I go into labour right now? I can’t very well show up at the hospital like this. Oh, please go into labour. Please, please, please. I try to will my uterus to start contracting, using imagery in the manner of an elite basketball player visualizing executing the perfect three-pointer.
Oh, wait. Don’t do that until you’ve had a shower, Tessa. Make yourself presentable first,thenvisualize your way into labour. I take a long shower, then spend forty-five minutes blow drying and straightening my hair and applying some makeup. When I leave the bathroom, I look hospital-ready in my cozy but cute maternity snowflake sweater and some dark jeans. I even managed to get some socks on by leaning against a chair with one hand, lifting my leg behind me and stretching back as carefully as possible to pull them on, one at a time.
A buzzing sound on my cell phone interrupts me on my way to the kitchen to make a bite of lunch. Picking it up, I see that it's Bram calling. Not in the mood for his crap, I let it go to voicemail.
Seeing I have a text from earlier, I swipe the screen to find Arabella has written to me.Heads up, Tessa. Arthur is in the worst mood I think I've ever seen. You may want to steer clear of him for the next few hours.
Just as I’m about to call her to ask what she’s talking about, a text from Bram pops up.What the hell happened over there? Did you go all hormone ragey on Mum and Dad? They’re moving in with Irene and me. Call me NOW before it’s too late.
Me:Hormone ragey? I WAS going to help you but now I think I won’t.
Bram:Okay. I’m very sorry. I’m just panicking. They’re already on their way!
Me:What are you talking about? Are you sure they're not just coming over for a visit?
Bram: They are DEFINITELY moving in with us. Whatever it is, can you please fix it? The engagement ring has brought out the wild side in Irene, if you get my drift, so having mum and dad here really isn't what I need right now.
Eww. Gross. So glad I didn’t pick up the phone when he called.
Me to Bram:T.M.I. Calling Mum now to find out what’s going on.
I dial my mum's mobile number, but she doesn't pick up.
Voicemail from me to Mum:Mum, it's Tessa. Bram says you're moving in with them? I don't understand what happened. Please call me as soon as you get this.
Making my way down to the nursery, I see that the door is closed. I try to open it, but the door is blocked. "Arthur, I can't get in."
"Yes, well unless it's urgent, it's not really a good time because there are crib parts laid out all over here."
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about why my parents have left, would you?"
"You should ask their demon cat," he calls through the door.
My heart sinks at his words. "Oh, shit. What did he do?"
"Turned our throne room into a shredded mess."
"Oh, Arthur, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
"Go back in time and tell them they can't move in."
“What if I make you some lunch?" I call through the door.
"No, thanks. I'd rather just get this done without any more interruptions."
Oh, well fine then, Snippy Prince. I walk over to the kitchen and make a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches. Sitting down at the table, I text Arthur:Grilled cheese sandwich waiting for you in the kitchen.
Him:You eat it. We both know you want mine, too.
Me:Wow. What’s up your butt?
I fume while I down my sandwich and a side of pickles. Pickles—I know, total pregnant lady food, but in my case, I’ve always enjoyed a good pickle, so it doesn’t count as a crazy pregnancy craving. I sit for a few minutes, staring at the sandwich I made for Arthur, willing myself not to eat it. I’ll leave it there all day and night so as to prove him wrong. Part of me is expecting him to come out of the nursery any moment to apologize, but he doesn’t.
