Page 86 of Investigate Away
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“I’m not following,” he said.
“Well. The good news is we don’t have to pack birth control, but the bad news is, it wasn’t the chicken that made me sick the other day.”
“Then what made you sick… oh.” He scratched the side of his face as the first part of her sentence repeated in his mind. They hadn’t really talked too much about having a family. Well, they did. In the future. Maybe in a year or two. “You’re right. I need to sit down.” He made himself comfortable on the love seat. “A baby?”
She handed him a white stick with a little window. Inside the window was the wordpregnant. “I need to confirm with the doctor, and I don’t want to tell anyone yet. Not until we get past the three-month mark because of what happened the last time.”
“I understand,” he said. “So, how long have you thought you might be?”
“I’m three weeks late.”
“Three weeks?” He blinked, staring up at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And freak you out before the wedding? No fucking way.”
He pulled her to his lap. “I would have been fine. I think.”
She laughed. “Are you okay with this?”
He smiled, resting his hand on her stomach. Their child grew inside her belly. Just the thought squeezed at his heart. His chest tightened. “If it’s a boy, can we name him David?”
“David Bowie? No fucking way. Not going to happen.”
“My father tried to get my mom to do that for years,” he said with a chuckle. “But in all seriousness, I do have a couple of names picked out.”
“Really? You’ve known you were going to be a father for three and a half minutes, and you’ve got names.”
“I’ve actually been thinking about them for a while now.” He tilted her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I thought if we had a boy, we could name him Steven, and if we had a girl—”
“Stephanie,” she whispered.
He nodded.
“You really need to stop making me cry.” She swiped at her face. “I love you, Jagar Harold Bowie.”
“I love you right back, Callie Dixon Bowie.”
