First Comes Love: A Chronicles of Moxie Novel Page 13

  “Thank you,” she whispered, placing her hand on top of mine.

  “We’re leaving early because I know you’re going to ask me to stop at least ten times to pee.” I gave her a wry smile.

  “If you just let me get a funnel and a soda can like I suggested, that wouldn’t be an issue.”

  “How about strap a Porta-Potty to the hood of the car?” I laughed, knowing her intense hatred of Porta-Potties.

  I shivered at the thought as I went toward Dillion’s room to see if he was ready to go. I wanted tonight to be a family gathering. Even Kelly and her boyfriend, John, were meeting us at the restaurant. I got everyone into the car and was ready to go when Moxie said she needed to pee one more time before we left. When she came back to the car she was carrying a funnel with her from the kitchen. I shook my head and she just laughed, making a pissing sound with her mouth as if she were going to go in my car.

  We pulled up to the restaurant and I had the valet park my car. I was feeling a little nervous about the initial meeting. Not because I didn’t think my parents weren’t going to like Moxie, just the opposite. Since Moxie had her own family issues, I worried she had aversions to all things parental. But I hoped by seeing how nurturing my own parents were, Moxie would realize there was such a thing and she would be just as nurturing to our baby.

  We decided to meet at an upscale steak house. The break from McDonalds was very much welcome. Kelly and John were waiting in the entry way for us and Dillion bolted into Kelly’s arms, giving her a big hug. Kelly had my mom’s blond hair and cornflower blue eyes. She was considered model pretty, but the thought of her modeling anything less than a nun’s habit sent me reeling. I was her older brother, and it was my job to protect her. To my relief she was a black belt in tae kwon do so I was pretty sure she would be able to take anyone down in the room. I liked John a lot. He was a bald guy with lots of tattoos. To the average person he looked pretty bad ass, but he couldn’t be a nicer guy. Moxie liked to call him Crouching Bad Ass, Hidden Pussy.

  “We’re is my beautiful boy?” Mom shrieked as soon as she was in the restaurant.

  “Right here, Mom.” I stretched out my arms to give her a hug.

  “Not you, idiot. My grandchild.”

  “I feel so loved,” I mumbled.

  “Grandma!” Dillion let go of Kelly and ran into Mom’s arms.

  Dad walked in after Mom. He was the kind of man who got along with everyone, no matter who they were or what they did. He managed to find a topic of conversation to suit every person. Mom was always adamant I got my good looks from him, which of course, meant he was a stud muffin. He had the same brown hair as mine, but his was graying on the sides. He said it was because my mother made him insane, but I’ve never seen two people who were more in love than them.

  “Hello, son,” he said, giving me a man hug and patting me on the back.

  I pulled Moxie to my side and I felt her drag her heels.

  “Dad, this is Moxie. Moxie, this is my dad, Kyle.”

  “So this in the famous Moxie,” he said, taking Moxie’s hand.

  “I swear I didn’t do it. I only tried pot once and had hallucinations of Tom Petty afterward,” she said nervously.

  Dad let out a big belly laugh and pulled Moxie in for a hug. Moxie seemed a little taken aback by this and raised her eyebrows at me over my dad’s shoulder. Then Mom came over to my side and looked at Moxie. She was silent for a moment and Moxie looked like she was going to be sick under her scrutiny.

  “Do you know how much I’ve wanted redheaded grandchildren?” Mom’s eyes lit up and a smile spread wide on her face. Moxie’s shoulders dropped and she relaxed. My mom grabbed her for a hug and this time all Moxie could do was smile.

  The host led us to our table and handed out menus. My heart beat faster when Moxie helped Dillion look over the menu before she even considered herself. It was just another reason why I thought Moxie was going to be a great mom. I just wished she saw the same thing.

  “So, Moxie, did you have a hard time with morning sickness?” Mom asked.

  “You could say that. I have plans to hold that over my child’s head until the day I die. Every time they don’t get their way I plan to tell them I don’t care because I spent a month or two hugging the toilet on their behalf.”

  “I was so sick with Miles. In fact, I was sick pretty much my whole pregnancy.”

  “Oh God, does that mean this child is going to grow into another Miles? The world can barely handle one!” Kelly said with a dramatic flair.

  “They can only handle one because I’m beyond perfect. If the world had more than one it would explode because it can only handle so much greatness.”

  “I didn’t know people with such power could fail Spanish in high school,” Dad said, peeking over his menu at me.

  “Listen, old man. That teacher hated me because I denied his advances.”

  “He did not come on to you,” Kelly said, smacking her menu onto the table.

  “Excuse me, his name was Mr. Bendover and he gave Hersey Kisses only to the boys in class.”

  The table erupted in laughs but was interrupted by an explosive sound followed by something that smelled like a dead body. Everyone looked around the table, and Moxie’s face turned beet red.

  “Ew, someone farted.” Dillion covered this mouth and nose with his hand.

  “I’m so sorry!” Moxie’s hands flew to her face to cover up her embarrassment.

  My jaw went slack as I stared at her, but was quickly replaced with laughter. Of all the time we have been together, I had never heard Moxie pass gas. I questioned whether or not her body was even human because nothing ever came out.

  “Oh, honey. It’s okay. It’s the hormones and the pregnancy. It makes you very gassy,” Mom tried to sooth her.

  “Moxie, if it makes you feel better I can rip one out right here. But I might end up killing the entire wait staff.” Dad pretended to bear down and scrunched up his face.

  “I’m going to die,” Moxie said, still covering her face.”

  I reached over and put my arm around her shoulders and brought her close to me, kissing her head. I know she wanted to shrivel up and die, considering she wanted to make a good impression. But what a better way to make someone feel comfortable then knowing you can fart around them. We’ll have to discuss if it’s okay to fart around each other in the house because running into the other room was getting kind of tiresome.

  We ordered our meals and talked about the baby and wedding plans. My parents asked Moxie a lot of questions without grilling her for information. As the evening progressed, Moxie was able to relax and even joke around with my parents. My Moxie, the one I knew and loved so much was back. And she was showing my parents all the reasons I fell for her in the first place.

  “What happens if it has a big mutant baby head? There is nothing worse than baby mutant heads. You know, where the baby’s head is twice the size of its body? And everyone has to tell you how cute your baby is even though it looks like Frankenstein.”

  I looked out the window of Miles’s car. We were on our way to the doctor’s office for the ultrasound. To say I was nervous would be a slight understatement. Immensely terrified sounded better. Like having to take a shit in a gas station bathroom kind of terrified.

  “What happens if it’s got webbed feet? Then people will follow him or her around quaking like a duck and call them Donald.” I ran my hands down my face.

  “Here’s one,” Miles added. “Maybe the baby is fine and normal and you have nothing to worry about.”

  I looked at him. “Have you met me? You should know that the words normal and fine are not part of my vocabulary. I am a Jew. It has been inbred into me over thousands of years to worry. If I didn’t worry, I would be a disappointment to my entire religion.”

  “You can always go with the Catholic way of thinking.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Ignore everything and pretend it never happened.”

&nb
sp; I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. What happens if it’s born with multiple eyes? Maybe it wasn’t Miles who impregnated me, but an alien. Oh my God! I’m having an alien baby. We pulled up to the doctor’s office and Miles got out of the car. But I just sat there, feeling anxious. Miles came around to my side of the car and opened the door.

  “Ready?” he asked as he extended his hand out for me to take.

  “Do you think it’s too late to ask for a return? Maybe I can get a nice coat or something.”

  “Last time I checked we were having a baby, not shopping at Nordstrom.”

  “But I saw these really cute pair of shoes—”

  “Moxie, you have five seconds to get out of the car, or I will carry you and our baby over my shoulder into that office.”

  “Fine. But I could have gotten you a nice shirt and a pair of pants for the return.”

  Miles was sweet to help me out of the car, but since my body was changing, I was having to learn new ways of moving.

  We walked into the waiting room and I approached the receptionist to sign in. “Hi. Moxie Summers. I’m here for my ultrasound,” I said as a fidgeted with the sign-in sheet.

  “Okay, great. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

  But I didn’t move away from the desk. “I’m seeing the baby today.” I informed the new victim of my nervous angst.

  The receptionist looked around to see if I was speaking to someone behind her. When she realized the comment was directed at her she said, “Yes, I know. That’s generally what happens during an ultrasound.”

  “Would you say that you see a lot of woman coming out of the ultrasound room crying or happy?”

  The receptionist looked confused. “Umm, generally happy?”

  “How many times have you heard people wailing from that room because something had gone wrong? Do they have a licensed psychologist on staff to council patients if the baby has extra appendages? Has anyone ran out of the office screaming?”

  Miles put his large hands on my shoulders and a kissed the top of my head.

  “You’ll have to excuse my fiancée. She’s a little nervous.” Miles steered me away from the receptionist desk and to the seating area.

  “I was simply asking the nice woman for some information,” I said.

  “You’re going to get yourself locked up with the looney bin. Try to relax.”

  “You’ll need to get me some of those elephant-sized tranquilizers for that to happen.”

  “Only if I get to shoot it into your sweet ass.” He gave me that devious Miles smile.

  “No sexy talk. Your smooth moves got us into this position.”

  “No, I believe it was me fucking you that got us into this position.” He put his arm around me, pulled me into him, and snuggled and kissed my cheek. Before I could retort, Nurse Ratched called my name from the doorway.

  Miles stood up and pulled me with him. I felt like a little kid being dragged by my parent out of a toy store.

  Nurse Ratched, with her unwavering enthusiasm, led us to the ultrasound room. Without any acknowledgment she started shooting off the questions.

  “Step on the scale.”

  “I don’t weight myself,” I answered.

  She looked disapprovingly at me over the frames of her glasses just like the first time we met.

  “What?” I asked defensively.

  “You don’t weigh yourself?”

  “Why would I want to know how much my minion is taking up in my body?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Step on the scale.”

  “No.” I crossed my arms across my chest and started tapping a foot.

  Next thing I knew Miles arms were around me, picking me up, and setting me down on the scale. I glared at him.

  “I don’t want to know.” I squeezed my eyes shut and plugged my ears with my fingers.

  After a moment the nurse tapped my shoulder and pointed for me to step off the scale. Relieved, I got off and started to walk toward the exam table. But Nurse Ratched rattled off my weight over my shoulder. I cringed and gave her a dirty look. She opened a drawer, took out a sheet of paper, and laid it on the table.

  “The technician will come in shortly,” she said and exited the room.

  “Isn’t she a delight,” Miles deadpanned.

  “Don’t look directly in her eyes.” I wagged my finger at him. “You might turn into stone.”

  “Let me help you change,” Miles said.

  “You just want an opportunity to take my clothes all the way off.”

  “I was just trying to be helpful.”

  I placed my hands on my hips and looked at him like a mother waiting for her child to cough up the truth.

  “Fine, I wanted to cop a feel, even if you don’t have to take off your shirt. I can’t help it. Your boobs are massive and demanding to be touched.”

  “Last time I checked tits didn’t talk.” I tried my best to acted pissed, but couldn’t help my smile.

  “Sweetness, your tits call to me twenty-four seven.”

  I rolled my eyes and hopped up onto the table. There was a knock at the door and a woman looked in.

  “Moxie?”

  “Depends. Do I owe you money?”

  She laughed and entered the room. “I’m Trisha, your ultrasound tech. Are you ready to see what’s cooking in there?”

  “You mean there are other things besides babies you could find in there? Do you ever get women claiming they’ve been probed by aliens and then find an alien baby growing in their uteruses?”

  “No. Well, not today anyways,” she said, winking. “Just lay back on the table. I’m going to squirt some jelly onto your belly and we can see what’s going on.

  I pulled my pants down and my shirt up to my bra so Trisha could squeezed the bottle of cold lubricant onto my stomach and put the ultrasound wand on top. Miles grabbed ahold of my hand. We both watched the screen, waiting for something that looked like a life form. Trisha moved the wand over my rounded stomach and something came into view on the screen. Miles and I both squinted. It looked like one of those ink Rorschach tests. Trisha kept moving the wand around to get a better angle.

  “There we go,” Trisha said in a singsong voice. “There is an arm and another arm.” She stopped the wand and hit some keys on the ultrasound machine. “And there is the head and…” She paused with a look of confusion. She reached for my chart that was sitting on the table next to her and flipped through it.

  “What? Why did you just pause? It’s an alien, isn’t it? It has the head of a cow! I knew I shouldn’t have eaten so much meat.” I said, starting to sweat.

  Trisha placed the wand back on my stomach and moved it around until the form came back onto the screen. When it was visible, she pointed to it. “This is the baby’s head.” Then she moved the wand slightly. “And this is the other baby’s head.”

  Silence draped the room. My eyes didn’t leave the screen in what felt like minutes.

  “My baby has two heads!” I screamed, tears welling up in my eyes.

  “No! No, Moxie.” Trisha turned to me. “Moxie, you’re having twins.”

  I suddenly went deaf. Trisha’s mouth kept moving and her face contorted with excitement, but no sounds came out. I thought I could make out Miles’s voice, but all that kept ringing in my ears was the word twins. Twins. Two babies. Twice the poopy diapers. Two more therapy bills to pay.

  “Moxie? Sweetness? Are you okay?

  “I’m having a two-headed alien baby,” I muttered, still dazed.

  Miles chuckled and pulled me close to him. He kissed my cheek and said, “We never do things halfheartedly, do we?”

  “Would you like to know the sex of the babies?” Trisha asked.

  “No sex. Sex makes two-headed alien babies,” I mumbled.

  “Yes, we want to know,” Miles answered for both of us.

  “Okay. Baby A is a boy. And baby B is a girl.”

  “Holy fuck,” was all I could add.

  “Cong
ratulations,” Trisha said.

  Finally, my eyes moved off the screen and I looked at Miles, who was glowing with an enormous smile. Then I looked back at Trisha.

  “I think you might have your first patient running out of here screaming.”

  Moxie and I walked into the hospital for our first birthing class. I remembered some of the classes I took with Sarah before Dillion was born, so to me this was a refresher course. We learned things like how to change a diaper, how to feed the baby, and how not to freak out when the baby sticks a cufflink your dad gave you up their nose. Moxie’s belly was definitely growing as our twins lounged nicely in Casa de Moxie. The other day she came to me in a panic saying she thought her pancreas was ready to explode. She showed me where the pain was and I pressed on her stomach only to be kicked back from one of the kids. When I told her it was only the baby kicking, she yelled at her stomach to knock it off. Mommy still needed her pancreas.

  We also started talking about baby names, which was an interesting conversation. I wanted to choose something different that would make them stand out like Moxie’s name. She said she would take a baseball bat to anyone who made fun of our kids’ names. Therefore the names Elsabub and Gasto were out. Moxie wanted to represent her mom’s name because that was a Jewish tradition. You were supposed to name someone after the dead. When I asked her if we could name our son Miles Junior, she snapped at me, and said if I don’t rub her swollen feet, she’d kill me. In the end she said we could use the name Miles.

  “Do you know what floor we’re supposed to be on?” Moxie asked.

  I looked at the paperwork. “Sixteenth floor, room sixteen oh eight.”

  We got into the elevator with an older woman and her husband and pressed the button for the sixteenth floor. Moxie rested her hands onto of her growing belly. I thought that was one of the most adorable things. I placed my hands on her stomach and kissed her forehead.

  “I love you,” I said into her hair.

  “Love you, too.”

  “It’s so nice seeing young people in love,” the little old lady said. “You must be due any minute.”

  I felt Moxie tense. She was feeling insecure with how big she was getting, and we still had a while to go until the babies came. I took the situation into my own hands before there was a little old lady bloody carcass on the floor.