Page 67 of Christmas Chaos
TABI: Softie.
RORY: Not often, ask Zoe.
I laugh and lean over the bar to reach something, and my tits ache. And he didn’t have sex with them last night. I could attribute it to falling two floors, but they hurt yesterday too. And my back is a touch sore. I stopped keeping track of my period when we went off the shots. And I was warned my system would be screwed up for a minute.
Oh. Shit. Wait. Fuck me. I have so much to do, and this is now very curious. I’m not sure when I had my last period. This can’t be possible. I fell through a floor. Shit. I have twenty minutes until I’m open. I dash out of the tasting room. I bolt inside Walgreens screaming, “Where’s the bathroom?”
* * *
That’s an interesting fucking development.I’m back in the tasting room. No one is here. No cars are pulling in. Might be all the trucks pulling debris off my house keeping them away. I can’t just sit here. I’m not sure what to do. Or if it’s even real. Four sticks say it’s real, but they could be lying muthafuckers. Is it possible we’ll have two kids under the age of one? All in one day. That’s a twisted little turn of fate. I don’t know how to stop my head from reeling.
I check my messages, the doctor I ignored. The hospital calls. Shit. I listen to my messages and it’s the doc, he needs to talk to me. He knows. He knows about the sticks. I had to pee in a cup last night. What if I fucked up the kid before it’s a kid when my bed went sailing through the floor? Oh shit. Rough sex. Can a baby handle that? I mean, he slammed me pretty good last night. Can he reach the baby? Will the baby be pissed off being poked in the head? It doesn’t have a head yet, does it? I spent so much time trying to get pregnant I forgot to research how to actually be pregnant. Or a parent for that matter.
My phone pings. I shoot off a text so I’m not ignoring them.
SABRINA: Tab- you there? Who is this darling baby joining our ranks?
BEN: You really are grandmaesque right now, Bree.
TABI: I’m back. Sorry. Yes, Jonathan, not from my junk. There’s a little boy in Oakland who’ s going to be ours tonight. Merry Christmas. You bitches were the best part of my year. Aside from the foster boys. But you certainly were the most fun.
TRISTAN: That’s awfully sweet of you. Maternal instinct kicking in?
TABI: Fuck off.
BEN: Your baby is right on time. If you actually did get pregnant then you wouldn’t be there for this child.
JONATHAN: That sounds like something I would have said. But I agree with Ben. If this year taught me nothing else, it’s that timing is everything. It’s all as it should be.
Yeah, cool. So pregnant and a newborn all in the last day. Bax will laugh his head off or sob. I walk out in the back of the tasting room, lean over the garbage can and puke. Not because I have morning sickness, just because this is a lot to handle on an empty stomach. Should I call Bax? Do I tell him now? No, I’m going to tell him when I see him. I’ll tell him while we pick up our other child. Our other child. This is blowing my mind. I need to make sure the baby is ok before I tell him. What if it’s not really ok.
And there’s no way I’m giving him this Christmas present over the phone. That’s bullshit. I want the full reaction. We’ve waited too long.
I will fucking rule Christmas. The best present ever.
“This is Tabitha Aganos.”
The nurse screams, “It’s her! Yes, my dear! We’re waiting for you.”
“I need to confirm a something.”
“We know! Come in right now so we can confirm the heartbeat!”
I know this well-meaning bitch is excited, but that sentence terrifies me. Confirm a heartbeat, like there’s a good chance there won’t be one. Sadly, I’m more familiar with that part. I wish Bax were here, but if there’s something wrong, at least I can keep that from him. I’ll tell him in a couple of days when we’re exhausted and happy newborn parents. It won’t sting as much for him. Either way it’s my Christmas present to him.
She squeals loudly. “Come. Now!”
I hang our closed sign and squeal out of our parking lot again.
I turnthe corner onto our back vineyard property and drive through the path as much as I can. I park and stand on the front of my car. Finally, I spot the flock. There are a large number of sheep spread through the vines eating our weeds and brush. Instead of spraying or pulling we have the sheep come out and help keep things biodynamic and organic. We’re not totally either yet, but it’s the goal. But those woolly little fuckers do an excellent job. They can eat noxious plants and help keep the brush under control for fire damage. I head in the direction of the animals and the ones tending to them.
“Yo. Shepherds!” Both of them look to me, then cover their eyes.
Sam yells, “Tab.”
But David yells, “Yo. Mary. Think maybe you can turn off the multitude of heavenly host?” I realize my car lights are on bright and pointed directly at them. I click my car into park and the lights go out.
“Ha ha, funnier than you know. I need one of you to go and run the tasting room. I can’t find anyone else, and I have to go. Josh and Adrian Schroeder said he’d help later.”
