“Want to go to lunch? Catch up about Christmas? Talk about how Jude’s going to look when he’s pushing Maia in a trolley and carrying another baby on his chest?”
I grinned, still a little in shock but not completely. The prospect of labour and giving birth so soon wasn’t the most attractive, but what would be at the end of it would be worth it. “He was named DILF of the year in some magazine this week.”
He’d actually not told me about it, but Amber had. Nate and Jesse had been taking the piss out of Jude all week, changing his name to ‘Hot Dad’ on his locker, and printing out the photo used in the magazine to hang up around the locker rooms.
He’d been embarrassed about it, which I’d found hilarious and a bit endearing at the same time.
“Lunch then? How about Carlotta’s? I fancy tapas. Something that isn’t turkey or roast beef. I’ve totally had enough of that.”
I nodded. I needed to do something rather than go straight home and work out how I was going to break the news to Jude that broken sleep was going to be a thing for a while longer.
“Lunch sounds good. I’ll drive – you can have a wine.”
I guessed I was the designated driver for a while longer.
I worked out how to tell Jude about the next addition to our team while I was driving back from Genny’s, dropping her off with the wine she hadn’t drank at the restaurant – she’d ordered a bottle - and leaving her to get ready for whatever she was doing tonight, something she’d been extremely vague about, which meant I was texting Amber as soon as I had both hands free so we could speculate whether she was spending New Year’s with her arch enemy.
Jude was home when I arrived there, complete with our daughter and my secret surprise. I passed him Maia, because as much as I adored her, I was also going to enjoy a nice swim in the indoor pool, followed by a bath and some new body moisturiser I’d been given for Christmas from Jude’s mum.
Then I was getting creative.
Which apparently took a long time. I had sequins in a box from a craft set Nate’s girls had been using when I’d babysat them one afternoon. I also had glue from a face painting set, so I was all set for my little announcement board.
An announcement board that was in fact my still rounded stomach.
Like most women after giving birth, I was still carrying some baby weight. I’d been slim before, because my diet had to be an example of what I preached and I was a huge pilates and yoga fan, but I hadn’t been in any rush to try to go back to what I’d been like before I was pregnant with Maia. I’d documented the slow, steady weight loss, looking at reasons why women struggled to get rid of the baby belly – mainly because as a mum you put yourself last so you were generally sleep deprived, stressed and snacking, too exhausted to be organised about yourself.
I had lost weight, but not in the same way a model or an actress might. There was no need to.
Right now, I was decorating my squidgy belly with sequins, not something I’d been envisaging. I was also trying to write a message upside down, which was harder than I thought it would be.
“Are you okay in there?” Jude spoke through the bathroom door and tried the handle. The door was locked, as I figured he might try and find me if Maia was napping.
We’d definitely been making the most of the naps, as evidenced by what was growing in my belly now.
“I’m good. I’ll be down in ten minutes.” I was nearly done. I just needed to figure out how to dress without nudging any of the sequins off.
“I’m sorting dinner. I’m making us a happy meal,” he said through the door.
“Is that a euphemism?”
“It can be. Maia’s asleep. She polished off that bottle and still wanted more. Did you feed her before?”
“Were there any newsflashes about a baby causing ear damage to the public in South Manchester?” Because that was what would’ve happened if she hadn’t been fed.
Carnage. Burst ear drums. Stampeding dogs.
“Fair point. Shall we give her a top up before she goes to sleep?”
“Can do. What are you cooking for dinner?” I was curious as to what a happy meal actually was.
“A happy meal. Burger. Fries. I’m just making my own. I’ve done the prep and filmed it while you’ve been in the bath. Don’t you need your back scrubbing?” Jude sounded antsy.
“No. I’m good. I’ll be down in ten minutes.” I put on sleep shorts and a long T-shirt that was fairly fitted so wouldn’t move around too much. Over that I threw a baggy hoodie that used to be Jude’s.
“Shall I pour you a glass of wine?”
He was definitely trying to get me in the mood for something.
