At first, I don’t answer because my relationship with Natalie is precious, and sharing it with a crude bastard like Conor feels wrong. But a soft smile crosses my lips thinking of the curvy girl, and my friend’s on it in an instant.
“Holy fuck! There is someone! So is it that hot secretary we were talking about last time? Or the paralegal who’s barely legal? Hardy har har,” he says, cracking himself up. “Fess up, lover boy.”
I take a deep breath and decide to acknowledge my attraction.
“There is someone special, and before you start spewing shit, I’ll have you know that she’s sweet. She’s innocent and young, too. Too young,” I add with a frown.
He claps me on the shoulder and chuckles, “Hey man, I get it. But tell me: is she eighteen?”
I nod, and my buddy chortles again.
“Then it’s all good because she’s old enough to fuck hard, and yet young enough to take it really deep because she’s still flexible. You know that’s why I like them young,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. I groan with disgust because I knew it would end up like this. My buddy always has his brain in the gutter and never refrains from speaking his mind. “Besides, I like them young too,” he smirks. “in fact, the younger the better.”
I groan again.
“Don’t tell me you’re some disgusting Jeff Epstein figure who’s grooming underage girls for Thai massages and whatnot.”
He shakes his head.
“Hell no! I’d never break the law. But eighteen? Oh yeah, she’s legal and I’m fucking that fresh young cunt.”
Alright, I’ve had enough of this, even if it is amusing in its own way.
“It’s not like that,” I state. “My woman is sweet, innocent, and absolutely incredible. She’s a sweetheart, and basically, I’m the fuckwad who’s corrupting her.”
My friend guffaws.
“Well, better you than some other bastard,” he smirks.
I just shake my head again because obviously, this dude is impossible and I can’t get anything through his thick skull when it comes to Natalie. But we’ve been friends since forever and idly shoot the shit about things that have nothing to do with either our business or our love lives for a couple more minutes. Then, as expected, Conor takes both the pretty girl he was talking with earlier, as well as the gorgeous bartender, out for a smoke in the night air behind the bar. He winks with his arms wrapped around their waists, and I know what’s going to happen: he’s getting some threesome action tonight, all in a dirty back alley.
But I don’t really care because I only have Natalie on my mind. My woman is gorgeous, sweet, and so good with my daughter, and that’s all that matters to me.
9
Natalie
It’s been a week since I started to feel sick, and after waking up every morning in a mad rush for the toilet, I knew that it was likely morning sickness.
Finally, I caved in and went to the drugstore and bought two pregnancy tests. After the first one came back positive, my fingers trembled as my heart pounded. But just to be sure, I took the second one and it was positive as well, so I guess that’s that. On the one hand, it’s utterly terrifying because am I ready to be a mom? A baby is a lot of responsibility! But on the other, I’m ecstatic because I know I’m ready to be mother. A baby is going to turn my life upside down, but I already love him or her and can’t wait to meet them. Plus, this is Morgan’s child, and the idea of carrying the man I love’s baby makes me almost giddy.
Yet I haven’t seen Morgan at all this week because I’ve been so busy. My school work has piled up to the point where I couldn’t “babysit” for little June, so I offered to come over late at night for our adult playtime. But my man gently refused and said he wants me to focus on school, and to take care of myself. He’ll handle June until this busy period passes, and then we can be together once again. As a result, I haven’t told him about the pregnancy test, which is pretty wild seeing that he’s going to be a daddy again soon.
But I’m still meeting up with Fred Walsh today for our scheduled reading. All those rumors Susie relayed to me are just that: rumors. I’m sure as not going to be intimidated by them, and besides, we’re reading a new book that I love. It’s John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath and I adore Steinbeck’s classically American storytelling.
We reach an inflection point in the tale, and Mr. Walsh grins at me.
“So, how’s babysitting going for that little Aston girl? Is she a darling or a terror?” he asks.
I smile and nod.