Page 16 of For Her

“You okay?” I ask in her ear. She’s not used to this part of the life yet. She spent a huge chunk of recent years travelling, and since coming home the last time and marrying Matt, she’s happily transformed into a homebody.

“Oh, I’m so great,” she replies dreamily, as her eyes dazzle up at her husband working his bass for the crowd. “I’m so late to this party and I want to revel in every minute of it!”

“I can definitely understand that!” I shout as my husband swings his guitar to hang behind him to grab the mic with both hands.

Unfortunately, that’s when it happens… the sinking feeling in my stomach, followed by an eerie churning feeling.

No… not here.

“Mel…” I choke out as I grab her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, turning to me with a look of concern, her sexy rock husband forgotten. Shame.

“I’m going to throw up,” I warn. No time to mince words as I feel the all of the blood drain out of my face. I forgot to put my Sea Bands back on after dinner, and this is what I get.

“Shit, okay,” Melanie tries to stay calm as she rubs my back and frantically looks around. Of course we’re surrounded by thousands of people with smart phones. All I need is for photos of me saying hi to my dinner splattered all over the internet. I feel my stomach lurch and I try to gag it down.

“Here!” Melanie shouts and quickly ushers me behind the stage steps, just in time for me to decimate the asphalt.Ewww.

“Tell me no one saw that!” I plead, still crouched over, holding a finger up behind my back, warning Melanie to give the correct answer.

“No one saw, honey,” she assures me, rubbing my back as I heave again. “It’s just us down here.”

Thank the merciful heavens.

“Do you have gum or a breath mint?”

“No, sorry,” she answers regretfully.

“Happy New Year.”

Seven

16 Weeks

Jack

I’m pulling the razor blade through the musky scented foam down the side of my face before rinsing it off under the faucet in the bathroom. I bring it up again to shave another strip of stubble off my face when I see Mayzie approach in my peripheral.

“Hey, Baby,” I murmur, my eyes still on the mirror as I concentrate on a close shave without cutting myself.

“Jack,” she whispers, and there’s a playful mischief to it.

“What, Baby?” I say tenderly, trying to give her a warm smile while I glide the razor down my face.

“Look.”

I glance over at her as I go to rinse the razor off again and feel myself freeze. She’s in a blue sports bra and her yoga pants are nudged down enough for me to see a small but prominent bulge in her lower abdomen. According to the scale she’s gained a few pounds, and some of her clothes have felt tighter on her, but this is the first time I’m seeing an actual difference in her body.

I absentmindedly toss the razor in the sink, not caring that there’s still shaving foam taking up half of my face as I slowly walk toward her to get a closer look. It’s small, like she swallowed a softball, but holy shit. I crouch down so that I’m eye level with the bump and rest my hands on her hips.

“Oh my God,” I exclaim on a breath. “When did this happen? I know it wasn’t there last night.”

“I know,” she giggles down at me. “I swear, I just noticed it!”

I let go of one of her hips to graze a hand over it. It’s so firm. “How many weeks?” I ask her, not taking my eyes off her gorgeous new belly and trying to imagine our baby inside.

“Um, sixteen and change,” she sweetly informs me.

---