“I do. Shall we enjoy the fine dining of the hospital cafeteria?” Nick asks as he holds his arm out for me.
“We shall,” I reply, taking his arm.
To people on the outside Nick and I shouldn’t be talking, let alone touching. They’ll gossip and start stupid rumors that Liam and I will ignore. For one, Nick is happily married to Aubrey whom I consider one of my best friends and two, Liam and Nick are friends… well, sort of. Best friends they’ll never be, but Liam knows he owes Nick for the years he raised Noah. Nick and Aubrey are a part of our family.
The cafeteria is almost empty since we just missed the lunchtime rush. Nick hands me a tray and we go through the line. I’m not a fan of the food, but I am fan of their desserts. I grab a piece of pie and head to the ice cream machine, adding some vanilla ice cream to the top.
“I said lunch,” Nick says as we meet at the register.
“I know, but I couldn’t pass up the apple pie and ice cream.”
Nick shakes his head as he pays for our lunches, greeting a few colleagues as we walk toward the window.
“So, how was your appointment?”
“It was amazing and Liam was… I don’t know, Nick, I can’t explain it. Like a kid in a candy store. His eyes were so expressive.”
“That’s great, Josie. Did you find out what you’re having?”
“Yes!” I squeal. “A boy,” I say low enough for only him to hear.
“Another football player?”
I shrug. “I don’t know; will you still be coaching in another six years or so?” We both laugh.
“I could be.” He winks, and it takes a minute before I catch on.
“No way! Is Aubrey…?” Nick is nodding before I can finish my question. I stand and reach over the table, giving him a hug. “Oh Nick, I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you. We’re happy, too.”
“This is such an amazing day and I have Aubrey to thank for it. If she hadn’t met Meredith, Liam and I wouldn’t be adopting her little boy,” I pause and think back to our appointment today. “She’s so disinterested in everything. She wore headphones and played on her phone during the sonogram. You know I understand why she did that, but she won’t even let me buy her clothes or anything.”
Nick reaches across the table and holds my hand. “Meredith is lucky to have you and Liam.”
I smile. “I don’t have much time to get everything ready though. She’s due in a couple of weeks.”
Nick laughs and puts his napkin on the table, having finished his sandwich. I look down at my pie, which is now swimming in ice cream soup. “Sounds like the ladies will be shopping soon and the guys will be painting a nursery.”
I beam and clap my hands. “I’ll make sure Liam knows you’ll help!”
“Hello?” I call out, dropping my keys on the table by the door. Josie hates that I leave my keys here, but I can’t seem to get it through my head that I need to walk down the hall and hang them on the board. I call out again, but there’s no answer. Josie called me earlier, asking if I’d come home. I’d been down at Xander’s gym, working out with him and just shooting the shit.
This isn’t the first time she’s called me and asked me to come home. We’ve been trying to conceive and her doctor has put us on a sex schedule. Aside from being with my girl, being told when I can have sex with her is getting annoying. It’s all about her body temperature and ovulation chart. I should have that chart memorized by now considering it hangs in our bathroom. I can feel it mocking the fact that I haven’t been able to knock her up yet every time I look in the mirror.
“Josie,” I call out, as I start climbing the stairs. I pull my shirt off and throw it over my shoulder before moving my hand to my belt buckle. As much as I love my girl, the lack of emotion there is between us when we’re together lately is really starting to bother me. I’ll never pass up a chance to be with Jojo, but our lives have become more about calculations and less about feelings.
Our bedroom is dark and much to my surprise she’s not laid out on the bed waiting. There’s a light coming from under the bathroom door and I immediately feel like a shit for assuming she needed me to come home for sex, not because she’s obviously sick. I knock on the door and twist the knob before she tells me to enter. We’re long past bathroom pleasantries. I’ve held her hair many times when she’s been throwing up.
This time, though, it’s different and I drop to my knees to hold my sobbing wife in my arms. She clutches my chest, her nails digging into my skin. I hold her tightly to me and cradle her head as her tears wet my chest.
“What’s wrong, Jojo?”