Page 71 of Falling in Love with Two

“Uhm, I think about five or six weeks. Something like that. I have an ultrasound in a couple of weeks to find out for sure,” I reply.

“Well, congratulations.”

I manage to give him a small smile while getting back to work on his tattoo. “Thanks.”

“I have a kid,” he says. “He just turned ten.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I never thought I would like being a dad. Being in charge of another human being is the scariest thing in the world. But it’s totally worth it. When your kid looks at you like you’re the greatest thing since white bread, it’s amazing.”

I think about his words. Maybe they should provide me some sense of comfort, but right now, I’m still too freaked out for it to work. Instead, what he said made me realize that I will have this responsibility for the rest of my life—long past when the kid is in diapers.

I may feel even sicker now than I did before.

After doing three tattoos today and throwing up an additional two times, I’ve almost made it home.

Home.

How weird is that to say when I’m talking about Dylan’s?

Oh, get over it, Leah. Your life is just a big ol’ bucket of crazy these days.

When I woke up this morning, I was in the bed rather than on the couch. I’m not sure if Dylan carried me in there, or maybe I was just too exhausted to remember making my way in there on my own. Either way, I slept like a baby. I even slept in this morning and had just enough time to make me breakfast and take a shower before heading to work.

The fact that Dylan and I are on slightly different shifts may work out to my advantage. We get to spend some time together while still getting some time to ourselves. I wish all relationships could be like that. I’m not sure exactly what kind of relationship Dylan and I have, but right now, I’m just happy to have him as a friend in my corner.

I walk through the front door and throw my bag onto the chair before walking into the kitchen where I find Dylan.

How is it that every time I see him, he looks more and more attractive?

“Honey, I’m home,” I joke.

That gets a big smile out of him. “Hi, dear. How was your day?”

I take a seat at the island. “Well, the morning sickness stage of pregnancy has started.”

“Already?”

“Apparently. I didn’t even have time to get past the crippling fear stage before moving into extreme nausea.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with a sympathetic look. “This may be a stupid question, but are you hungry?”

I think for a second. “A little. Probably because I have nothing in my stomach. What did you make for dinner?”

“Taco casserole.”

My stomach churns, and my face must show it because he asks, “Doesn’t sound good, huh?”

“While I think it sounds okay, the baby does not agree.”

“Okay, then. No taco casserole.” He smiles. “How about some chicken noodle soup?”

“You don’t have to go to any trouble. I can just snack. You should eat. I don’t want anything to go to waste.”

“It’s really no trouble. The soup comes from a can. And I can just eat the casserole for lunch the next few days.” As he talks, he’s already grabbing a can and emptying it into a bowl.

“Why are you so nice?” I ask.

---