Page 95 of Crash

“Creator, shouldn’t you run these invitations by me first?” I say just to piss off my brothers.

“The house isn’t yours yet, Lucas. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“I don’t know why Luke gets the house,” Jake grumbles.

“Because I’m the favorite,” I gloat. “Keep complaining and I’ll ban you forever. In fact, you all need to start calling first before you come over. No more showing up on a whim.” He gets up and tries to put me in a headlock, but I manage to dodge his first attempt. He pretends to walk away, but makes a quick turn, catching me off guard.

“Don’t make me have to hurt you, Jacob,” Vivi warns. “Hands off.”

Troy approaches with a plate of sausage and peppers. When he sees the antics between me and Jake, he puts his plate down next to Vivi and joins the fight.

Jocelyn enters the living room next, holding a plate full of salmon.

“Vivienne, I made this for you. I noticed you haven’t eaten much today, and Sandra said I could use her kitchen.”

As soon Jocelyn gets close enough for Vivian to smell the food, her complexion changes. She covers her mouth with one hand and sprints down the hall into one of the bathrooms. I run after her and enter the bathroom to find her vomiting violently into the toilet.

This goes on for several minutes until there is nothing left in her. I grab a hand towel, dampen it with cold water, and lay it on her forehead as a compress. We’re both quiet for several minutes.

“It’s just allergies,” she finally says. “Or exhaustion and stress from the baptism. I had to take that Catechism class to become the godmother.”

“You don’t have allergies, love. We both know you threw up when you smelled the food, and we both know why,” I say gently. I get up and add more cold water to the compress before sitting next to her again.

“Don’t start with that. I already told you I’m not pregnant.” I think back to the conversation I had with Jake when he told me how stubborn the women in her family can be. “You don’t know my body better than I do.”

“I can’t argue with that, but what about the three positive pregnancy tests you took in the last week?”

My fiancé is fierce when she’s cornered. She pushes my hand off her forehead and holds her own compress.

“False positive,” she argues.

“All three of them?”

“It’s not impossible, Luke! Do you believe some dumb tests, or do you believe me?”

“It’s highly improbable, love. One false positive is rare, but three? You’re pregnant. I’m going to repeat the words a wise woman once told me. Get your head out of your ass so you can help me raise this kid.” I reach over and place a hand on her stomach. Instead of moving my hand away like she’s done the last few times I tried this, she places her hand on top of mine. “I love her already,” I whisper.

“Her?”

“Her or him. Whatever you have in there, I’m already in love with, but I’m sure it’s a girl. You’re going to give us a little suffragette, so eager to come into the world and let her voice be heard.” I pull her closer, lift her hand, and kiss it. “Made of love.”

She takes the compress off her forehead and covers her entire face with it. She takes a deep breath and her shoulders sag. I pull the washcloth off so I can look at her beautiful face.

“It’s just not the right time. We’re not getting married until next year, and I don’t want to walk down the aisle with a huge belly. We’re supposed to go to Switzerland for our honeymoon. You promised you’d teach me to ski. I can’t ski with a baby in me,” she says, frantic. “I just started this job. I plan on going to graduate school in a year a half. You just started school last month! How are we supposed to study with a baby? We have plans, Luke.” She takes another deep breath and lays her head on my shoulder. Despite the quiet in the bathroom, I can feel the fear and uncertainty oozing from her.

“Hey,” I say, “Luke loves Vivi.”

She instantly calms down. Her breathing returns to normal and her shoulders sag in relief.

“Vivi loves Luke.”

“That’s what I thought. Love, we can still do all of that, but we might have to change the timeline a bit. We move our wedding up. We get married next month. You know my mother loves a challenge when it comes to party planning. We can still go to Switzerland. There’s plenty to do there besides ski, or we go somewhere else. I promise to take you skiing another time. Graduate school is still happening for the both of us. We have this huge, crazy, intrusive family. They will help us, and we can also hire help. We’ll adjust, Vivi.”

I know I’ve convinced her when she doesn’t deny being pregnant. She takes a deep breath as she ponders my words. She moves closer, puts her arm around my torso, and lays her head on my shoulder.

“You’re right. We can do anything,” she says. I feel myself relaxing at her words.

“I’m right? Can I get that in writing?”

---