Page 96 of Unexpecting

″Are you sure this isn’t the real thing?” I asked Mavis, holding my side and panting like I imagined I would be doing when I went through the real thing. A few of the kids watched me intently, but most were more concerned with their books. “It feels like the real thing. It hurts a lot. The doctor said I’d be having premature labour so I could really go anytime, you know.”

Mavis shook her head at me with a beautiful smile. “Casey—trust me. You’ll know when it’s the real thing. You won’t be asking anyone about it.”

I questioned Libby about labour pains when I visited her that Sunday afternoon.

″Oh, sure, labour sucks. It feels like your insides are being pushed out your bum. But it’s awesome.”

″How could something being pushed out of your bum be considered awesome?” I wondered in all seriousness.

″Don’t worry about it.” Libby brushed my worries away with a wave of her hand. “I thought you were having a C-section?”

″That’s what Dr. Hobbit said, but I’m still not convinced. I mean, look at my hips! How can they possibly be too small?” I stood up with difficulty to pick up Max, who had rolled off his play mat and gave him a cuddle before putting him back in the middle. He thanked me with a gurgling smile that warmed my heart. Imagine—I had three of these inside me!

″I think it’s the pelvis she’s referring to. Are you just going to ignore her and try popping out the three of them when she’s not looking?”

″No. I haven’t figured it out yet. But my way of looking at it is that this is probably the only chance I’ll have to have a baby and I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”

″Trust me—you don’t. The end result is great, but face it, if you can avoid pain and ripping and tearing and—” Libby laughed when I winced. “Oh, yes, all of that and more. Haven’t you read any books? Are you signed up for prenatal classes?”

I perked up when she asked me that. “J.B. and I are both taking them. He insisted. I signed us up for a weekend course at the end of December.”

″Sounds like things are going well with the two of you.” Libby smiled as Max rolled over and grabbed the toe of her sock. “Don’t try and eat that, my silly boy.”

″Other than he refuses to touch me, things couldn’t be better,” I told Libby. I was still embarrassed about what happened the night the babies first kicked, and I’ve managed to avoid him as much as possible.

″Touch you, touchyou, or just regular touching.”

″Not the regular touching.” I gave her a brief recap of what had happened in his room because I was feeling sorry for myself.

″Ah. Well, what do you expect? He’s scared of you. You’re a woman, you’re carrying his child—children—and all these things are going on in your body that he doesn’t understand. If I was a man, I wouldn’t touch you either.”

″I was hoping he could move past that stuff,” I grumbled.

″All men go through the same thing,” Libby said knowingly. “I mean, you’ve heard the saying that men want to have sex with the slut and marry the girl next door, or however that goes, right? Imagine how happy they are when they get her home and realize the girl next door is a dynamo in the sack. I know Luke thought he was pretty lucky.”

″Didn’t need to know that.”

″Well, anyway, you got the guy all happy for a couple of years because he’s got the best of both worlds, and then his girl next door goes and gets pregnant. Big dilemma, here. It was hard enough at the beginning to go from thinking sweet girl to slut in the bedroom, but now sweet, slutty girl has morphed into one and she’s having his baby. Does he go back to treating her like prized porcelain or keep on with the getting everything that he wants from her?”

I made a face at Libby’s attempt at an analogy. “The only prized porcelain J.B. has is the new dishes they just got for the restaurant. And I’m not the girl next door; I’m the girl downstairs. And he’s never really treated me like a slut.”

Libby rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Luke had trouble—”

I held up my hand to stop her. “I think if you continue, whatever you say will fall under the too-much-information category. I love Luke, and there are certain words I don’t like being associated with him. So let’s just say I get your point and move on.”

″If you’re worrying about this, does it mean something’s going on with the two of you?” Libby asked curiously. “More than just the normal you’re-having-his-babies thing?”

I leaned my head against the couch. “I don’t know, Lib. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. All I kept hoping the first couple of weeks was that J.B. would come around and maybe be a little happy I was having his baby, and that was it. Then he got all excited about stuff. He’s reading all these books and did this research to try and find the best triple stroller and everything. It’s really nice. So do I just leave it there, or press my luck and hope for something more?”

″How does he feel?”

″That’s like asking if I have any memories of being in Mom’s uterus.”

″Not a nice image, thanks.”

″Well, you know. J.B.’s changed, but not that much.”

″You could ask him. Maybe ask what his intentions are. Like, does he intend to ever have sex with you again? Just so you know, logistically, it’s going to get pretty difficult. I always found doggie style to work, or you’ll have to get on top. Missionary is out for a while, which was okay for Luke because—”

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