During the seventh inning stretch, I stood up and walked around the stadium. My aching feet were no match for my lower back; I needed to walk it off. Heading down the stairs, I marched through the concrete hallway toward the locker room. Hoping that Jack would shower quickly and not leaving me standing out here for long, I rubbed my back and concentrated on breathing. Robert, the security guard, sat on a metal folding chair, watching me.
“Any day now, right, Mrs. Carter?” he asked as he removed his ball cap and scratched the top of his balding head.
“With any luck,” I said, smiling.
He nodded. “Well, you look fantastic. Absolutely glowing.”
“Thank you, Robert. That’s kind of you to say.” I continued to smile, but doubted his words. I knew I looked like a freaking cow, and who knew what my feet looked like since I’d lost them.
The quiet tunnel became noisy as the rest of the wives and girlfriends started to file in around me. A moment later, Jack burst through the doors and headed right for me.
“Hello, Kitten,” he purred in my ear before falling to his knees and kissing my belly. “Hello, baby.” He had started doing this after every game and I loved it; we didn’t care who watched.
“Did you shower? The other wives just got here.”
“No need, since I didn’t play today, and I know how uncomfortable you are. I don’t want you sitting out here waiting for me when I can shower at home.”
“Thank you,” I said with relief, sincerely happy with his thoughtfulness.
“Anything for my girl. And my boy.” He smiled, his dimples appearing. “How are you feeling?”
“My back hurts, but otherwise I’m okay.”
He grabbed my hand in his and I waddled a step behind him. Yes, I waddled; my new form of locomotion could no longer be considered walking. Once we entered the parking lot, Jack slowed his pace before popping the trunk of our black BMW and unlocking the doors. He opened the passenger door for me and helped me inside before tossing his bag into the back of the car.
“Do you want me to stop anywhere on the way home?” he asked, referring to my frequent late-night cravings.
Lately, I’d become obsessed with a very specific kind of Popsicle. I think I started eating about ten a day. And then there was the phase where I had to have cereal for every meal.
I reached for his leg and placed my hand on his thigh. “We have a freezer full of popsicles and a pantry full of cereal. I think I’m good.”
“All right then,” he said before stepping on the gas.
Jack’s free hand moved from holding mine to resting on my giant belly. He rubbed in slow, circular motions and the heat that radiated from his hand to my stomach soothed me. A swift kick caused Jack to pull his hand away.
“He kicked me!”
I laughed. “I know. I felt that.” I glanced down and noticed the baby inside me moving parts of his body. He twisted and turned as my stomach took on odd shapes to accommodate his growing length. “I know it’s supposed to be miraculous and stuff, but seeing a body part poke out of my stomach is weird. And kind of creepy. I feel like there’s an alien inside me.”
Jack glanced at me before turning onto the freeway. “I think it’s awesome. Do you have any idea how cool it is that you get to grow a person inside you? Guys can’t do that.”
“No shit, they can’t! Guys couldn’t handle it,” I teased.
He nodded and raised his eyebrows meaningfully as he said with complete seriousness, “No guy wants to birth a bowling ball out of his penis.”
I muffled a giggle. “Did you just say the word penis?”
“I was trying to watch my language in front of the alien baby, okay? No guy wants to birth a bowling ball out of his dick. Better?”
“Much.” I sighed, and angled my body toward his as the car raced toward home.
I must have fallen asleep on the short ride home because when I opened my eyes, Jack was carrying me up the stairs.
“Babe, you’re going to break your back.” Embarrassed, I tried to wiggle out of his arms but he tightened his hold.
“Can you not try to jump out of my arms while I’m walking up the stairs? Jesus, Kitten.” Once we reached the top, he gently placed me on my feet. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Thank you.” I attempted to wrap my arms around him, but couldn’t reach anymore. The size of my stomach had grown so large, it stopped me from getting close to anyone.
“He’s cock-blocking me already,” Jack said with a smirk.
“I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” I teased.
Jack smacked my ass and I yelped. “Go get in bed. I want you off your feet. Carter’s orders.”
“Yes sir.” I gave him a snappy salute before disappearing into the bedroom.
I woke up with Jack’s hand firmly on my side. The last few weeks I’d been sleeping fitfully, waking up every few hours to pee and adjust the plethora of pillows stacked around my body. Trina had been right about them and they were lifesavers, tucked underneath my stomach, between my legs, and behind my back.
Standing to walk to the bathroom, I felt water dripping down my leg.
Shit.
I tried to hold my bladder, but I couldn’t. Shuffling into the bathroom, I sat down on the toilet and the water gushed. My heart started to race as I realized that I wasn’t peeing at all—my water had just broken.
“Jack,” I yelled from behind the bathroom door. I heard him rustling in the bed, but he didn’t respond. “Jack?”