Page 69 of Unexpecting

″And I was trying to decide if that’s what I wanted to do—when I got pregnant. When I found out I was pregnant,” I corrected. “By you. Or with you, whatever the proper grammar is. So David and I couldn’t have a baby together, so technically you did get in the way. I guess I should have told you this, but—I was kind of pissed off at you, you know! And I didn’t want to hear you say, ‘I told you so.’ So I didn’t say anything about it to you.”

A snort of what might have been laughter came from J.B., and with it some of the fire and brimstone that had been blowing out his ears. He sat down on the chair across from me. “So you keep me in the dark about this guy, make me go on thinking that the two of you are all hot and heavy and he’s probably going to be the one raising my baby, all because you’re pissed off at me? Do you know how pissed off I was this last couple of weeks—thinking about the two of you? Thinking that you’re making all these plans about my baby and I wasn’t going to have any say in it?”

I bit my lip. Suddenly I thought back to that night when J.B. told me he hated thinking about me kissing anyone else. If he got that upset just thinking about a kiss, then he must have been going crazy with all this running through his head. No wonder…

″I’m sorry,” I whispered. This was not how I had pictured the groveling part of it!

″I thought he was taking both of you,” J.B. said gruffly to the cat curled up in his lap. “Were you going to have a baby with him?”

″I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I talked to Coop and he didn’t think it was a good idea, but you have to admit it was the perfect solution. It would have got me the man and the baby without having to deal with the rest of the stuff.”

″Some people want the rest of the stuff, you know.”

″I know. I just want to be a mother. I want a baby and now I’m having one, and no matter what you feel about it, I’m so happy I can just cry.”

″You doing a lot of crying these days?”

″I’m hormonal,” I told him stiffly. “Get used to it.”

″Yeah, well, I guess I better,” he muttered. And yet again, I blinked with surprise.

″What’s that supposed to mean?”

″It means, you want me to prove something to you, I will. I’ll prove that I can take responsibility for things and that I want this in my life. I’ll prove that I’m not a complete selfish asshole.”

″I don’t really think you are,” I admitted faintly. “I just think there are some assholic tendencies that flew out there for a bit. But, J.B., I can do this on my own. I want to.”

″You don’t want me involved?” J.B. asked stiffly.

I shrugged helplessly. He sounded serious, like he really meant it. I know he’s not an asshole, and deep down, I think he would make a good father, despite what he might think. Of course I would want him to be involved, but I don’t want him to take part because he feels some obligation, some pity for me. I want him to want it.

But then I think about the baby books up in his room. I had to assume he was reading them, or else they made a handy nightstand.

″I do want you involved,” I told him simply, with my hand back on my belly. “But—”

J.B. gave my hand a squeeze. “I’ll prove it to you,” he vowed, all very serious-like. “I’ll show you this is what I want. Okay?”

″Okay,” I whispered, with a sudden, fervent wish that J.B. would kiss me right then.

But he didn’t.

Chapter Thirty

“The excitement of a pregnancy often overshadows the exhaustion of the first trimester.”

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

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)

Imet with Britand Morgan Monday night. The only thing I said to them about J.B. was that we had a talk and he seemed to be okay with the baby thing now. Morgan was happy for me, but of course, Brit started muttering about marriage and never finding another man. I was glad I hadn’t told them he actually proposed. If that’s what it was. Half-assed attempt, if you ask me. But still… it was nice to know I’m not alone in this now.

The three of us ironed out plans for Brit’s stagette. The wedding was a month away, and it was time to start the celebration. I just wished I felt more like a party.

A surprise party wasn’t an option since Brit made that perfectly clear back when she and Tom first got engaged. And there was not much to plan, since Brit knew exactly what she wanted with everything concerned with this wedding. I wondered if Tom got a say in anything. I know Brit suggested golf as a way for him to start his bachelor party.

Anyway, Brit came up with the idea for her perfect bachelorette party before she even got engaged. She wanted a whole day of togetherness, with the three of us shopping at her favourite stores in the morning; followed by a quick lunch at her favourite Thai restaurant; on to her favourite spa forfacials, manicures, and massages; and then dinner at the private room at Coop’s restaurant, which isn’t quite her favourite, but she likes it and I do have some pull, which comes in handy making reservations for sixteen. She even has a guest list ready, with phone numbers and e-mails included.

We decided to have the stagette two weeks before the wedding—which was going to be on the Saturday of the Labour Day weekend—because both of Brit’s sisters would be in the city then. Lacey lives in Vancouver, and Sierra, the younger, had been traveling in Europe for the summer before she headed to graduate school.

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