Page 70 of Christmas Chaos
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TABI:I’m a wreck. Tell me you have diapers and shit I can use until I can order a bunch of shit from the comfort of someone’s couch.
DAVID: Yes. And what we don’t have Elle will. But you should know, you’re going to have to actually take care of it.
TABI: Them.
DAVID: Healthy.
TABI: Both of us. And apparently rough sex is totally fine.
DAVID: Good to know. Seriously. Sure, you’re, ok?
TABI: We’re quite fine. I’m fucking stunned, but the tiny thing is healthy and strong. And big. I haven’t been paying attention longer than I knew.
DAVID: How many?
TABI: Four months. I just thought I’d been eating and drinking too much.
DAVID: Drinking. Shit.
TABI: They’re not worried but I mean, what else should we be feeding one of our kids?
DAVID: True dat. Should get Nat on a regime of Merlot and Chardonnay.
TABI: Really?
DAVID: Everything’s coming up babies.
TABI: You sly ginger bastard.
I’m backat Josh’s house and no one is here. I’m trying to find clothes that aren’t too fancy. Elle doesn’t do casual often, and I certainly don’t want to put on one of the wedding dresses. Her closet is big enough for my family. Oh. My. GOD. My family. My phone rings, and it’s my dad. I’m sorting through her jeans, and I answer.
“I’m at Elle and Josh’s house.”
“We are on our way to show you the things.”
“Nope, show each other, no time for the wacky Greeks bearing gifts right now.” I have to hustle back to Pro/Ho.
I peel off my leggings and pull on her jeans that have elastic. I grab a navy blouse that seems to be ironed and perfect and look at myself. I don’t look like a mother. I hold what I thought was cheese bloat and realize it’s a baby. My belly is more godlike than gouda.
I’m slightly rounded. Elle and I are pregnant together. This kid will have instant family, a crap ton of cousins and a sibling. I hope it’s a boy. I demanded they tell me, and they kept insisting it was too early to tell. I think they’re liars.
“Kid. Do me a favor. Stick around and meet us, ok. It’s going to be a touch chaotic, but I promise you a hell of a ride.” I put my other hand over my stomach and shake off sentiment. Today is a joyous disaster so far. My father’s voice, downstairs, brings me back.
Costas says, “There’s still a baby, right?” I freeze. Which baby? Oh. The other baby, not this one that I’m hauling around. I run downstairs and he’s got his brow furrowed and it appears he’s alone.
I say, “Theoretically. I can’t find Bax.”
“Your mother wanted you to know that you should and could stay at the fancy Sonoma Mission Inn. That place is very large, and we will pay.”
They don’t spend money like that, and it’s a sweet gesture. But I already tried all the hotels in town. We could go to a hotel away from town up in Santa Rosa, or find someplace in San Francisco, but I kind of want to be near our insane family.
“Efcharistó kalí mou katsíka tou patéra. Alas, there’s no room at the Sonoma Mission Inn. Or any inn or Best Western. I’m fucking Mary with a virgin birth and nowhere to put this kid to sleep.”
“You stay in the bed we are sleeping in at Langerfords.”
They’re at Sam’s parent’s house for the holidays while theirs gets fumigated. Yia Yia may have a food hoarding issue and treats her closet like a pantry. The canned goods are fine, but the old watermelon and pita are not.
