Page 83 of Third and Ten

*gif of “You’re killin’ me, Smalls” from The Sandlot*

Don’t talk about your lips either.

But I guess you’re trying to tell me that the invitation to use your room key later tonight was part of the act?

Tenley

As much as I’d enjoy hanging out, this probably isn’t the right time or place, don’t you think?

JD

Yeah, it wouldn’t exactly set the best example for the kids if they saw me sneaking in or out of your room.

Tbh, I’ll probably be smelly and exhausted, anyway. And I already planned to eat my body weight in gassy food at the buffet as a special treat for my roomie. Rain check?

Tenley

Sounds good. See you around, Coach.

He stops responding after that, likely because he’s busy getting the team to practice. Once I give up on hearing from JD again, I grab my laptop and opt to get a bit of work done, completing some charting and answering a few patient emails. Pregnant moms always seem to have a million questions, bless their hearts.

I hesitate before I send off the last reply. Sometimes I feel like a fraud, doling out advice to expecting mothers, coaching women in labor, and helping them troubleshoot breastfeeding, all without ever having done any of it myself. There’s always been some lingering doubt, my insecurities telling me I don’t deserve to be a midwife if I haven’t experienced motherhood. But I’ve managed to convince myself it’s better this way. My advice is probably safer from an objective standpoint, and it’s easier to remain detached in the case of a medical emergency, especially after what happened with my sister. It’s not like I set out to become a labor-and-delivery nurse just because of what happened to Tessa, but I do feel responsible for preventing it from happening to someone else. And though her condition is relatively uncommon, I usually check my patients for the symptoms of peripartum cardiomyopathy, just in case.

I finish the email and open another browser tab on my laptop, attempting to concentrate on my work again. I’ve been looking into adding “NFP Instructor” to my list of professional qualifications after Sybil Thibodeaux mentioned it a few weeks back. My initial research led me down a rabbit hole, but it turns out there are only a few minor differences between NFP and FAM, specifically the religious and ethical principles behind them. And although I haven’t been as devout in the past, I’m starting to get a better understanding of some of the teachings and doctrines of my Catholic faith through the application of NFP. I can see myself getting behind the whole “open to life” mentality, if I were ever in the position to get married and start a family.

But that is a huge if, and one I haven’t found a reason to give much consideration to thus far…until now.

We haven’t talked about it explicitly, but I know JD wants those things…and that I probably shouldn’t be wasting his time if I’m not up for marriage or motherhood.

So, for the first time in years, I give my mind permission to wander into some dangerous territory.

What would it be like to “try” for a baby? How would I react when I saw the second line on a pregnancy test? Would I be sick all the time? Would I enjoy feeling those first little flutters I hear so much about? What would I think about my body changing? Am I tough enough to labor naturally? How would I handle it if my baby had trouble latching?

I swallow hard, admitting to myself that a huge part of me has always wanted those questions to be relevant. The truth is that I’ve been longing for that experience, and since I wasn’t going to allow myself to have it, I’ve poured all my energy into helping other women live out my dreams instead.

Good grief. I’m a hot mess.

Which is exactly why I’ve avoided relationships and babies until now. But I owe it to myself—and especially to JD—to figure out whether I could even handle a family of my own before we go any farther.

Then again, if I’m already raising Ethan with JD’s help, what does that make us?

CHAPTER 26

JD

“What do you mean, you aren’t going up there? She slipped you her freaking room key in front of all of us!”

I heave out a sigh and put a whistle to my lips. Each player on the team shifts to the next warm-up exercise. “There’s no way I’ll be able to get in and out of her room without making a scene,” I finally answer my brother. “It would be totally inappropriate.”

“Says who? It’s not like she’s a student or even one of your coworkers, JD. You’re both single adults. What’s so wrong about it?”

I blow the whistle again. “Don’t you think these boys will put Ethan through hell if they hear about me sneaking up to Tenley’s room?”

He shrugs, knowing I’m right. “You’ll just have to make sure no one finds out, then.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth the risk, and I don’t like sending the wrong message to the kids. I’m not about the whole ‘do as I say, not as I do’ teaching style.”

Blake rolls his eyes. “You do realize that the majority of these kids are already getting more action than you, right?”

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