“Come on, don’t torture me. What does it say?”
When she turned around, he knew the answer. Her face said it all. Her eyes were wet and afraid, her mouth turned up in a beaming smile; the goose bumps and flushed skin were all there. She was experiencing the full spectrum of humanemotion all at once, and now it was washing over him. He felt warm and light-headed, like he might float away or pass out. He wrapped his arms around Wren and squeezed her tight, as if she were the only thing that might keep him on the ground.
“This is really happening,” she said, and he couldn’t tell if she was making a statement or asking a question.
“Oh my God. It really is. How are you feeling?” He still hadn’t let go. Finally, she pulled away, looked back down at the test as if to confirm she hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing. Then she took a deep breath, opened her mouth as if preparing to spill all of her hopes, dreams, and fears in this sacred moment.
“Pregnant out of wedlock,” she said. “What a hussy.”
“Wren…” But he couldn’t help laughing.
“What?”
“Do you mind? This is supposed to be a moment.”
If only there had been more time to plan. There could have been candles, gentle music, maybe even balloons or flowers. He’d have certainly worn something better than the droopy T-shirt and pajama pants that were just barely concealing the tremors vibrating through his body.
“OK, but I have one more,” Wren said.
“Go ahead.” He sighed. She was going to keep making jokes whether he approved or not, so he might as well give her the green light.
“What would my parents say?” she said, then before Arthur could respond: “Good thing they’re dead!”
Arthur winced. This was always Wren’s response when met with any amount of sentimentality. The gooier and more earnest the moment, the darker her jokes. She had to be really overwhelmed to bring up her parents.
“Are you done?”
“I think so, for now.” She sank back into him, resting her head on his shoulder and nuzzling deep.
“I’m so happy,” he said, meaning it. This was exactly what he’d been waiting for, planning for, and hoping for since the day he met Wren. There had never been a doubt in his mind.
“Me too,” she said.
“Really?”
“I’m excited. It wasn’t what I was expecting, I’ll admit. Or when I was expecting it. But that’s what makes it…kind of thrilling?”
They held each other for a moment before Arthur could feel her vibrating.
“You want to call Charlie, don’t you? Even though you’re not supposed to.”
Charlie was Wren’s best friend, on a level that Arthur could barely comprehend. If Wren had an unusual bowel movement, Charlie would know about it before he did, and she would have a photo. There’s no way Wren would be able to keep this to herself. Plus, somehow, Arthur doubted they’d be making it to Charlie’s party later that evening. They might never make it to a party that started after 9:00 p.m. ever again.
“See, you get me,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
She pulled away, walked into the living room to grab her phone. Arthur watched her go, already looking at her differently. She was carrying precious cargo, and was she even already glowing? No, that was just the cheap lamp in the corner spilling a dim yellow light over the whole room. But still, it looked good on her.
“Hey,” he said as she excitedly dialed. “We can do this. We are ready for this.”
“I know,” she said back with a smile.
1
Wren Morris was ready, allright.
Ready for everyone to get the hell away from her.
It had been Wren’s idea to have the all-gender baby shower outside, but she never said it was agoodidea. Charlie had put the whole thing on, and admirably so considering how busy she was with her own wedding coming up in just a few short weeks. She had handled everything from the decorations (Baltimore Ravens tablecloths draped over plastic folding tables) to the food (wings, dips, and brownies that looked like little footballs) to the games (trivia: How many kids did famous NFL players have and by how many different mothers?).
