Page 105 of Forced Proximity
“What’s for dinner?”
That was asked by Searcy, who was lying on her back on the sectional, her big belly sticking up straight in the air.
You couldn’t see her face from the angle in which she was lying.
“What sounds best?” I asked. “I can order anything.”
“Everything,” she sighed. “But I’ll only be able to eat small amounts, so really, get what everyone else wants. I can’t eat enough at this point to make it count.” She pressed down on her big belly so she could look me in the eyes. “Just make sure you get me a cookie. That I’ll make sure I eat completely.”
As she did that, the child she was carrying in her womb complained, and did this quite intense flip/kick thing in her belly, distorting it to go more sideways than straight up and down.’
She dropped back to her back and said, “I don’t understand why pregnant women can’t lie on their backs.”
“The inferior vena cava is located in your abdomen. The weight of the uterus can compress it and cause a lack of blood flow to your vital organs,” I answered medically.
She rolled over and sighed. “I can’t do anything. Can’t have sushi. Can’t have lunch meat. Can’t have tuna. I can’t have unpasteurized dairy products. I can’t have alcohol. I can’t lie flat on my back. I can’t do anything fun anymore except lie here and get bigger.”
“You’re such a Debbie Downer,” Doc teased as he leaned over the couch and stole a kiss. “I gave up all that stuff with you. And I’m not complaining.”
“That’s because you sleep like a baby next to me. Meanwhile, I’m up every five minutes peeing,” she grumbled. “Hey, why do you taste like chocolate? Where did you get chocolate from?”
He pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket and placed it on her forehead. “The truck. I knew you would get all cranky if you didn’t have something to hold you over until we ordered dinner.” He looked to me. “She likes Mexican food, but won’t say it, because she doesn’t want everyone to cater to her. But I’m catering to her, so let’s do Mexican food.”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “Anything in particular? Or just a smorgasbord?”
“She’s partial to the fajita quesadillas with the white queso on top. Beans and rice,” he answered.
“Done,” I said as I got to my app and started ordering. “Who wants to go pick it up?”
I’d offer, but I knew that I couldn’t get out. I was blocked in by no less than ten trucks. Plus, these men were cavemen. Anytime one of us tried to grab a box, they told us to sit down and take a load off.
Which left Searcy, Aella, and Searcy’s sister, Calliope.
There were, however, no kids.
Silver was watching Aella’s kids at her place, and the rest of the Truth Teller women were at work, unable to come help move me because they had real jobs.
Who knew?
“I’ll go.” Calliope stood. “I just have to stop and get something on the way.”
“I’ll go,” Jasper disagreed with her almost instantaneously. “You can barely pick up a can of Dr Pepper right now.”
I looked at Calliope.
Jasper was right.
She looked pitiful with her broken arm and the boot on her foot.
She’d apparently had an accident not too long ago that’d totaled her car. It hadn’t been her fault, but she was still in a world of hurt after it.
It was also very interesting how Jasper watched her, almost as if he could protect her from coming to harm again.
“I’ll go with you then.” She lifted her brow. “You do know that you can’t fit enough food for twelve people on the back of your bike, right?”
They started to fight back and forth, but I pushed their skirmish to the side and called in a huge order to my favorite restaurant.
Once I was done, I told Jasper, “Forty-five minutes. It’s that food truck on Main by the hospital.”
