Page 6 of Unexpecting

Chapter Four

“The expectant mother should attempt to cultivate a constant support system, including family and friends, to allow a reprieve from the demands of the newborn.”

A Young Woman’s Guide to the Joy of Impending Motherhood

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)

Ididn’t bother gettingdressed to go upstairs. But apparently, I’d taken too long because my cat, Sebastian, eventually struggled off the bed to wait by the door leading to the kitchen on the second floor. He likes Coop’s breakfasts as much as I do, so to make both of us happy, I headed upstairs. The heavenly smell of coffee mixed with the unholy stench of burnt eggs assaulted me as I opened the door. The smell of the eggs could only mean Emma had again beaten Cooper into the kitchen.

It was a sweet gesture—Emma sneaking out of bed without waking Cooper in the hopes of preparing him breakfast in bed. But even sweet gestures have a downside when the person attempting them is as terrible a cook as Emma. I’m no Nigella Lawson myself, but poor Emma is truly horrible. Like being unable to boil water properly horrible. (FYI, she doesn’t understand that water boils quicker if you turn it on high and put a lid on the pot. It takes her about forty-five minutes to make pasta because she’s afraid to turn up the burner.) It’s a good thing Emma hooked up with a chef, or the poor thing would be forced to exist on takeout and salad from a bag. She’s so tiny, the girl needs a great many square meals under her belt, or she might fade away to nothing.

“Morning,” Cooper said from his position at the stove poaching eggs, which would soon be covered with his most delicious hollandaise sauce for eggs Benedict. I saw the handle of a frying pan already poking out of the sink and the remnants of brown, rubbery-looking egg bits still strewn over the counter.

J.B. was already sitting at the table, with his shirt buttoned but untucked. “Hey,” he said casually, just like he does every time we have breakfast together. But when I sat down, he gave me a ghost of a smile.

“Hi,” I said, unsure of where to look since all I could picture was the image of J.B. wearing only his red-striped boxer shorts and I could still feel his lips against mine. It might have been an enjoyable night, but it’s hard keeping secrets!

“How was the wedding?” Emma asked me as she poured coffee into my oversized Piglet mug. I turned to her gratefully. I always thought she looked like an elf. She’s very cute with her pixie haircut, doe-like brown eyes, and sweet little heart-shaped face. All she’s missing are the pointed ears.

Getting up for breakfast when Emma is over (which is more often than not these days) not only means Cooper will cook, but Emma will play waitress. It’s definitely worth waking up for. It’s like going for brunch in your jammies and not having to brush your teeth.

“Horrible.” It was worth admitting to Emma what happened with Mike so I could stop trying not to look at J.B. I gave Emma a brief recap of the wedding and the discovery of the cheating, and she gave the perfect reaction of disbelief and sympathy. She also put a plate of food in front of me. Nobody makes eggs Benedict like Cooper. He and J.B. are planning to open their own restaurant in January, and I’ve told them countless times their place should just do brunch. The hours would be better as well. Sebastian was rubbing himself into a frenzied state weaving around my ankles, waiting for me to share breakfast with him. I didn’t think he was going to get much this morning.

“Yeah, but you weren’t really into him,” Coop commented from his position at the stove when I finished telling my sad tale of the wedding.

I often wondered why I never tried crushing on Cooper. Coop is madly in love with Emma, so it’s really a moot point, but he’s pretty cute. And his shaved head is the perfect shape for baldness. I’ve been trying to get him to have laser eye surgery forever because his glasses hide the most amazing pair of grey eyes, which are by far his best feature. The grayish-brown soul patch under his chin, however, is his worst. I keep hoping Emma will shave it off one night when he’s sleeping.

“That doesn’t mean I want him to get off with someone right in front of me!” I protested with a mouthful of eggs. “This is so good,” I added.

“I still don’t know why you bothered with him,” Coop grumbled. “I never thought he was good enough for you.”

I guess the main reason Cooper has managed to stay in the just-friends mode is that he looks out for me, sort of protects me, just like an older brother would. And the way he teases me is just as annoying. But it’s nice. He’s three years older than me, but I don’t have an older brother and Cooper lost his little sister to cancer when he was a teenager, so when we met, we sort of clicked into those roles. It was like we both realized we were missing something.

“Definitely not good enough if you found him going down on another chick in the church,” J.B. commented. “There are much better places to hook up.” He glanced at me, his meaning clear, and I could feel myself blush. J.B. and I definitely do not have a brother-sister relationship, unless you’re into icky Flowers in the Attic weirdness.

“You’ve got to stop it with those guys,” Coop instructed, pointing a finger like a disapproving teacher and oblivious to what was going on with J.B. and me. “Can I remind you about some of the more memorable ones? You’ve had to change your number because of one guy and take out a restraining order because of another. There were a couple who cheated on you, one got arrested, and one got into an accident with you. Need I go on?”

“It’s only because we care.” Emma smiled sympathetically as she refilled my cup with coffee. “We don’t want you to get hurt.” She looked pointedly at J.B., which made me think she was aware of everything that went on last night. She may be young, but she’s a smart girl.

J.B. snorted. “No, we’re sick of you being stupid.”

“Thanks.” I made a face at him. And there went my image of J.B. clad only in his boxers and any postcoital glow I might have had left.

“Well, I think it’s definitely a good thing you gave Mike the boot.” Emma gave me another smile, showing all of her pearly white teeth straightened by years of orthodontics. “I hope you’re okay?” I nodded, because my mouth was still stuffed with food. “Any new guys on the horizon?” she asked fearfully from beside the stove, where she was holding a plate for Cooper, giving J.B. another glance.

“Nope,” I said firmly. “I think it’s time to take a pass on men for a while. No dating. No boyfriends. No more dating even if he’s fantastic. I’m just going to concentrate on having a baby.”

“What? What baby?” J.B. asked in a strangled voice. There were no winks and nudges this time. “I thought you said you didn’t, you’re not—you’re pregnant?”

“No,” I told him patiently, thinking he was really not getting this through his thick skull. “There is no possible way I am pregnant right now. Nor have I recently done anything to get pregnant,” I said firmly, hoping J.B. didn’t let anything slip. “There is no possible way I can be pregnant.”

“There’s always a possibility,” Cooper pointed out. J.B. looked like he was ready to pass out, and I couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. My birth control pills plus a condom meant J.B. was pretty safe, but obviously he was still scared. I guess talking about having a baby the morning after you sleep with someone isn’t the nicest thing to do. Maybe I shouldn’t have kicked him out so quickly.

“Not right now. I’ve wanted a baby for how long, and I’ve never once had an oops. Or an almost oops. Or I-think-it-might-be-an-oops-but-really-just-a-false-alarm.”

“But you’re having a baby?” J.B. was still goggling over this announcement and seemed to have completely lost interest in the food left on his plate.

“I want to,” I told him. “I told you that—I’ve told everybody that. I think it’s a good time to have one, but no, I am not pregnant at this time. I’m fairly positive about this, so…” Don’t stress yourself out about it, was what I wanted to say, but obviously didn’t. Darn Cooper and his not wanting to create tension in the house, or whatever his reason was behind not wanting J.B. and me together.

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