Page 44 of The Proposal Problem

16

Percy

Saturday 12:59 Pm

We walk slowly down the street, pushed closely together in our usual huddle. Mysti is going on again about the pregnancy tests, small bear child still hugging her for dear life.

Her gaze constantly wander back to the kid in question, occasionally skipping over to Becky’s protruding stomach. Her eyes seem to grow a little wider every time. I can practically hear the screams pouring through her head.

I don’t blame her. I’m more than a little concerned myself.

Everything considered though, I’d say she’s holding herself together pretty well. Despite theAre You My Motherscene that she happened to wake up to.

Honestly, before today, I would have thought Mysti’s the last person who should have a kid. We’ve all seen her struggle with the most basic concepts of adulthood. The idea of her trying to impart wisdom on another human being… well, it’s just a little scary.

Seeing her with this one attached at the hip though, she really isn’t doing half-bad.

She’s infinitely better with him than I would be anyway. I mean, she has yet to buy a leash, which would have been my first priority.

He suddenly stops walking, pulling desperately at Mysti’s shirt for attention. Small fussy noises escape him, growing louder until Mysti leans to talk to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, sounding concerned.

He just continues whining louder, like a tourist who doesn’t speak the local language.

She looks at up at us, eyes pleading for help.

“I don’t know what he’s saying! I can’t do this, you guys!” She looks back down at him fearfully, “I’m not ready to be a mother!”

All my thoughts about her handling the situation shift instantly as I watch the growing panic in her eyes.I’d say she’s about a solid second from completely losing her shit.

“He’s probably hungry,” I offer.

His stomach growls an instant later, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“How did you know that?” Mysti asks, looking way too impressed.

“Well, what else could be wrong with him? I took a shot.”

“No, really, that was amazing.”

I laugh, knowing I was shooting blindly but feeling my ego inflate none the less.

“Alright, stomach whisperer,” Becky chimes in, “let’s find us some food then.”

Thankfully, this part of the city is practically overrun with cafes, so we don’t have to go too far before Sammi spots one.

We march straight for the mostly empty eatery, Mysti looking ten kinds of defeated by the time we get there.

We sit at a table on the patio, all our eyes now tracking the kid.

“What does it eat?” Mysti asks, eyeing him like he really is a dangerous animal.

“Um, food,” Becky says, giggling.

“Well, like what?”

I quickly grab a menu, scan the list annoyingly.

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