“Non-alcoholic,” she says. “Not bad, actually.”
“But the sex!”
“Well, that’s usually how you make a baby,” she says with a chuckle.
“No, you’ve been like a tigress in the sack! Don’t laugh, I’ve got the scratches to prove it,” I add in a mutter.
“I guess that must be hormones. I hope you’re prepared for the next seven months.”
“You mean . . .?” I pull her close, then push her away again, needing to see her face.
As she nods and happy tears slide down her cheeks, and I yell, “We’re gonna have a baby!”
“Well, I guess we won’t have to call Australia to break the news. I’m pretty sure they all just heard.”