Page 12 of Hot Life

I sat, deflated, on the small seat in the changing room, staring at myself in the too-bright mirror. My body had changed, shifted, grown rounder. Red, curly, frizzy hair tumbled down my pale, freckled shoulders. Des wanted to take nude maternity photos of me. Maybe I would let him. I’d only have this exact form for so long. And I saw the beauty in it. Even if the day-to-day aches and pains were a beast. Muffled whispers outside the curtain drew my attention. “Well, that’s ridiculous,” Odette barked. “How can you call yourself a maternity boutique if there aren’t things for all pregnant people?”

“That’s not very inclusive,” Caroline remarked softly.

Peeling off the too-tight dress, I pulled on Cedric’s sweatpants and Desmond’s Black Sabbath T-shirt. “What’s up?” I asked when I found my sister and sister-in-law scowling at a woman at the checkout counter.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we only carry up to a size extra-large.” The woman flicked a glance at me before ignoring me entirely and addressing Odette. “Maybe try bigger box stores.”

Odie huffed. “Those stores only have mumus with teddy bear embroidery. We wanted nicer, more stylish things. It shouldn’t be so hard just to find clothing that fits.”

I touched my sister’s arm. “It’s okay. Let’s just go.

Caroline and I made for the exit when we heard a crash behind us. “You know the average woman is a size sixteen, right? And in pregnancy, people’s bodies change. You had one job and that was to provide clothing for everybody. Your store’s a joke.” And with that, Odette flipped another table full of tiny silk shirts.

“I’m calling the police,” the woman threatened, pulling out her phone.

I grabbed my sister’s arm. “Odette! Give it a rest. Let’s go.” With Caroline’s peaceful apologizing, she cleaned up my sister’s rageful mess while her and I sat on a bench outside. “You want to tell me what sort of demon possessed you just now?”

“Cedric told me about your first doctor’s appointment. I wanted to burn the place to the ground. I’m only a couple sizes smaller than you, Dolly, and I experience it too, the judgements over my weight.”

“To hell with them, Odette.”

“How can you say that? How do you just brush it off like that?”

I shrugged, fidgeting with the string on my elastic pants. “I guess I’ve never seen it the way they do. I love my curves. I like being soft. Our culture is behind the times now, but they’ll catch up one day. In the meantime, it’s probably best if we resist burning it all to the ground. You know, for now.”

Odie snorted.

Caroline skipped over. “Well, ladies, a woman in the shop gave me the address to another, much better, more size inclusive maternity boutique. They serve free mocktails too.”

“See?” I raised an eyebrow at Odie. “No arson charge necessary.”

* * *

I stretched awake after my post-shopping nap in our mega-sized bed. The late afternoon sun pierced through the sheer curtains of our room as the sound of a radio and brusque male laughter reached my ears. It took more effort than usual to haul myself up off the bed and shuffle to the window. My mouth dropped as heat instantly flooded my center.

My guys were working in the yard.

Men preforming manual labor was to me what I imagined strip clubs were to men. And my guys were…delicious. Cedric wore a tight white undershirt striped with dark earth and sweat. The line down his abdomen where the fabric stuck to his chiseled body made my mouth water all the way down to his loose grey sweatpants. The indent of his manhood was evident through the lax structure. God bless men’s athletic wear manufacturers. There were women in charge of that; I was sure of it. His silver hair was slicked back as he rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead and went back to spreading black mulch between a row of trees.

Next to him…My knees went weak. My other husband’s pickup truck sat in the grass, the rear filled with a mound of mulch, and on top of the truck bed was Desmond. He may as well have been on top of a pedestal ripe for my viewing. There was no shirt blocking my view of his heavily red and onyx tattooed chest, glistening with perspiration in the sweltering September sun. His muscular arms shoveled into the mulch and tossed it over the side for Cedric. My eyes drifted to his low basketball shorts, exposing that V. All I wanted was to lick it all the way down… The speakers from his truck blasted announcer discussions about whatever sporting event he and Cedric were into right now. Baseball? Football? Did I care? Do you care? No.

I wanted them. So much of the past few months I’d been nauseous, or tired, or just not feeling sexy. For a miraculous moment in time, those annoying symptoms dissipated. My sisters were meeting with a bride about catering and would hopefully stay gone for a good while longer. An idea popped into my mind, and I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. I wiggled out of my giant T-shirt and panties and rifled through my dresser. Pulling out my treasure, I dropped my underwear and pulled up the white, stringy thong before maneuvering my swollen breasts into the white bikini top. The fabric was mere triangles over my nipples as I surveyed myself in our floor-to-ceiling mirror. A little tight, and my inflated belly took center stage, hanging over the front, but something told me the guys would like it.

After a hasty stop in the kitchen for the second part of my plan, my heart beat wildly in my chest as I stepped outside into the blaring heat and fuzzy radio on the car speakers.

“They traded him? Ah, they’re fucked this season,” Desmond grumbled, tossing another heap of mulch in Cedric’s direction.

Cedric snorted. “It’s the coach. He’s paid off by some billionaire. This season’s going to shit before it’s started.”

Frozen, I tilted my head in admiration. Glimmering muscles, the smell of their musk mixed with dirt. The bottoms of my bikini were already slick. I took a careful step forward and the glasses on my tray clinked together, drawing the guys’ attention. I bit my lip and smiled innocently. “I thought my boys could use some lemonade. I’m going to tan on the lounge chair over there.” Innocent, so innocent.

Des’s hands dropped his shovel, and he held his backwards ball cap on his head, lifting his chin, his eyes unabashedly roaming. Cedric pulled off his glove slowly and leaned an arm on the truck, stroking his chin. Suddenly I felt like a seal in shark tank.

I swallowed, feeling my cheeks and body heat from their attention. Prancing like a beauty pageant debutant to the side table next to the sunning chair, I bent over ever so slowly, setting the tray with cups of ice and a pitcher of lemonade down, exposing my thong-clad ass for their viewing.

An audible growl sounded as I turned and lowered myself carefully onto the lounge chair, stretching my legs and arms out, feigning naivety. But the sight before me hitched the breath in my throat. Des hopped off the truck as Ced removed his other glove. They stood side by side, dirty, sweaty, hungry. “You know I’m always down for something sweet. What do you think, Ced?”

“I think our wife is wearing too much clothing.”

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