Splat.
My spoon falls into the bowl at record speed. I’ve studied my do-not-eat-during-pregnancy list and imprinted it into my brain.
Creases form on Lainey’s forehead as she notices. “What’s up with you? You always eat the chocolate chip dough.”
My lips roll in because I realize that cover stories are my new way of life. “You know, I just decided that I’ll focus on the powdered sugar for the Puppy Chow.” I quickly grab the plastic bag of cereal.
Lainey still seems slightly puzzled, but her son begins to whine that he should get a little bite, and Lainey gives in.
For the next hour we catch up on her saga with her neighbor, Tyler. He’s actually a second cousin to Asher, but they don’t talk much unless it is hockey. The only thing they have in common is that they are both a bit cold around the edges.
An icy manner is probably why Lainey and Tyler can’t stand one another. Except they really do. It’s so obvious, and there have been signs lately that they are completely going to find themselves on a road together.
I wonder if that will be me. Maybe my newsneeds to wear off before I assess what it means between Asher and me. I should talk to Lainey. She was once unexpectedly pregnant, except now she is a single mom, and it seems that I won’t be. Asher is in this. I have to trust in this journey, otherwise there is no chance at all.
I’ve been listening to Lainey for five minutes about her neighbor as I close a tin of baked goods. I love listening to her and having the distraction of her life predicaments, but holiday magic be damned, she needs help with a push.
My arm darts out, and I hand her a filled tin with a polar bear on it. “Here.” She accepts my offering. “I’ll stay in case Enzo wakes up, but Tyler is back… so go.”
Her nose lifts, hesitant. “And you were thinking I can bring him cookies?”
“Tis the season, Lainey.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
I step closer to her, and I tug on her off-the-shoulder t-shirt, fixing it to be even more revealing. “There. Now go say hello.”
I already have my hands on her shoulders and turn her in the direction of the door before she can even protest. Then, I basically shove her out the door, closing it behind her.
Sighing in satisfaction as I turn around, I inhale a relaxing breath and soak in the smells from the kitchen. I’ve been feeling a little better lately. Slowly walking into her living room, I love the cozy feeling with the Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with white lights, and the stockings over the fireplace. I begin to admire the tree closely and observe all the various ornaments.
I pause when I see one of Enzo’s first ornaments. My head slants to investigate a little better, with the tips of my fingers ghosting the shapes. It’s a little foot, and then there isanother one which is a snowflake, and they are all gosh darn cute.
My eyes are entrapped, and I can’t drag my sight away. It hits me suddenly. A baby. All the first holidays with a baby. Then there are ornaments from when Enzo was three, then one he made when he was six. Babies grow, and you are parents forever.
We are parents. Asher and I. Me and Asher.
This all feels emotional all of a sudden. Normally, this would be a prime time to drown myself in the chocolate-covered pretzels, but I’m not sure I want to tempt the early pregnancy hormones.
The sound of my phone ringing breaks my spell, and I quickly go to my bag and pull my cell out. Seeing Asher’s name, I’m quick to answer.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“Hey, I just wanted to check in. It’s getting late, but we ordered in, and I’m still with the coaching staff to discuss our new power play approach… which you probably have no clue what I’m saying.” I can hear him smiling with his words.
I smile. “It’s fine. I’m at Lainey’s for our baking night.”
“Oh yeah. How is that going?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I quickly look at the tree and lock my eyes on the baby ornament. “Um… fine… it’s fine.” That maybe didn’t sound too convincing. “I’ll bring you a tin. I think I mastered the chocolate-mint bars. There are also a few deformed reindeer cookies. Or perhaps the coconut bars,” I list then realize the obvious. “I’m rambling, sorry.”
He chuffs a laugh. “I noticed. It’s okay, and yes, I love all of that, so count me in. I’m kind of surprised you aren’t dying from nausea there.”
I walk to the kitchen island and flop onto a stool while I pick up a peanut butter blossom cookie with nointention of eating it. “It’s okay today, only once or twice did I struggle, but Lainey didn’t seem to notice. Only looked at me funny when I didn’t eat the cookie dough, which to be honest was brutal for me because I love that stuff.”
“Violins are playing for you. I’ll make you cookie dough from chickpeas.”
“Eww.” I cringe.
