Noah’s eyes widen at my greeting and then he chuckles. I gesture at him to enter, doing a little dance and making grabby hands. “Gimme gimme!”
“Hold your horses, woman, let me at least get my boots off,” he says, voice amused. I back up to give him space as he pushes into the little vestibule of my apartment. He takes his time toeing off his boots, never releasing his grip on the greasy paper bag that smells amazing.
“So, I guess the morning sickness is officially gone then?” he asks, following me into the kitchen. He sets the bag down on my island counter and I nod, reaching for it.
“Nothing for four days now–but don’t jinx it!”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Apologies.”
I’m already ripping into the bag and unwrapping my cheeseburger. He watches me with a pleased smirk.
“You didn’t forget the extra pickles, did you?”
Noah scoffs. “I would never.”
“Thanks,” I say around a big bite. It’s so good. I’ve been craving the meaty cheesy goodness of a Millie’s burger since about 5:00 am when I woke up from a weird-ass dream and couldn’t get back to sleep. Both of those things have been common since I officially crossed into the second trimester. Strange and urgent cravings plus super vivid dreams that wake me with a start but almost immediately drift from memory save for the echo of their weirdness. Also,holy shit–I’m in the second trimester already!!
I do a little dance at the deliciousness on my tongue and reach for the fries.
Noah chuckles again and I sigh in contentedness.
“Don’t you even want to sit down?” he asks.
“Nope. I’ve been lying around all morning waiting for this and I’m just too excited!” I squeal. Unfortunately for me, Millie’s Burger Barn didn’t open until lunchtime and by 11:30 I was going out of my mind daydreaming about this greasy goodness. I was just getting ready to head out and get myself some when Noah called to see if I wanted any help this afternoon with setting up the nursery.
We’ve been spending a lot of time together the last few weeks; talking, planning, and shopping. Oh yeah, and laughing too. Noah has seriously thebestsmile, with a dimple and everything. And I’ve never seen it so much as I have in the last month.
It’s actually been kind of perfect. I already knew I enjoyed spending time with him, but now that we’ve gotten over the awkwardness of the whole ‘you forgot we screwed and knocked me up’ thing we’ve really bonded. Sure, a big part is due to our excitement over the baby, but there’s more to it than just that.
We actually genuinelylikeeach other.
And respect each other too, which is something I’ve often felt I haven’t received, deserved, or been due in the past. Turns out we’ve got that in common, though. Turns out we’ve got quite a lot in common. More than I’d originally thought. Oddly enough, I also find his grumpiness kind of endearing–and I think he enjoys my particular brand of crazy a little bit too. At least sometimes. Somehow, it just works. We’ve clicked, and I’m starting to feel really hopeful about this whole co-parenting thing.
So, we’ve been shopping. There isn’t much in the way of baby gear available in Llyn Lakes, and all the big box stores are a couple of hours away. We have a day trip planned for next month to go pick out stuff like the stroller and car seats–unsurprisingly Noah’s been researching this extensively–but for the baby’s room we’d just ordered a bunch of stuff online. Most of it arrived this week.
When Noah had offered to come help set things up, I’d jumped at the offer. Then my tummy fluttered and I’d thought it might have been the baby since it’s borderline time for me to be able to feel movement, but I suspect I was just excited.
I don’t want to look too closely at whether I’m more excited about getting the room set up or spending time with him, though.
Anyway, Noah’s been super attentive–annoyingly so, at times–but mostly I love it. I’ve never really had someone take care of me like this before. Even my abuela was never so involved, what with her having the diner to run, but Noah, he shows up for me. And I mean, he literally shows up– dropping by at the bakery for no other reason than to check-in. He offers to drive me places, does grocery runs, texts every morning, and calls every night. He worries about me, and, while I tease him about being a mother hen, it kinda melts my heart and makes my insides feel all gooey.
It’s not a feeling I’m used to, and I thought I would hate it, but … Isodon’t.
So I decided to take advantage and request that he pick me up my burgers on his way over. And yes, that’s burgers, plural. I’ve spent the last two months puking up almost everything I managed to choke down, okay? I think I deserve it.
Plus,Iameating for two.
Being the agreeable and hands-on baby-daddy that he is, Noah rushed me over my feast.
Heart eyes.
It also saved me having to put on underwear, so that’s a bonus. Ever since my little Buddha belly made an appearance I find them extremely constricting.
So when I’m home?
Yep, no undies. Commando. Free-birdin’.
Noah’s standing across from me now, the island between us as he slowly unwraps his own burger and then reaches into the bag that I’d practically shredded to withdraw the napkins. He passes one across the counter to me. Then he grabs my chocolate milkshake, unwrapping the straw and inserting it through the lid before pushing it across the counter as well. I’m still busy chowing down so I shoot him a closed-mouth smile in thanks.
