“Hasn’t really been time. I’ve been too busy fucking my fiancé since it happened.”
“That’s literally the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Really? How about the time I told you to lick my sweet—”
The great thing about scrambled eggs is they’re so easy to make again when the first batch gets too cold to eat.
Moments later, as we lay on the kitchen table, we heard the sound of a plate crashing to the floor.
“You owe me for that plate,” I said.
“You owe me for that orgasm.”
There was another crash. “Oops. Sorry about that,” I said, not at all sorry.
“When I broke your plate it was accidental, in a fit of passion. Pushing plates off the table on purpose isn’t going to get you anywhere, Caroline.”
“I doubt that, Simon. Look how fantastic this ring looks on my hand while it’s holding your cock.”
“Jesus Christ, woman.”
Moments later . . .
“I heard you on the phone with Jillian earlier. You really didn’t tell her?”
“No, I told her I was taking a personal day but I didn’t say why.”
“Why are you taking a personal day?”
“To fuck your brains out underneath our kitchen table.”
“I see.”
“You have a problem with this?”
“It’s the best use of a personal day I can think of.”
“Agreed. Now, let’s get to it.”
“Are you going to be this bossy when we’re married?”
“You have no idea, Simon. You have no idea.”
Hours later . . .
“I’m seriously hungry.”
“Me too. Can you control yourself?”
“Me? You’re the one that was pushing plates off the table on purpose.”
“Don’t start that again. Let’s grab something on the way to the hospital.”
“Are you having a heart attack? I know that last round was pretty intense. Thanks for being so bendy, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, and no on the heart attack business. I told Sophia I’d stop by today, see how she and the little one are doing.”
“So we have to put on clothes now, I suppose.”
“If you want to make it past security, it’s a safe bet. Come on, I want to call my mom and tell her the good news.”
“What about your dad?”
“You get to call him, and explain why you didn’t talk to him first before asking me to be your lawfully wedded wifey.”
“Shit. I mean, yay.”
Simon and I called my parents, who were ecstatic. My mom immediately shifted into wedding mode, asking me all kinds of questions about when and where and had I thought about colors and did I want my cousin Bernice to be a bridesmaid and made me tell her every detail about when he asked me to marry him. I left out the detail about us being naked at the time; that part was for me and me alone. I knew girls who’d been asked in a horse-drawn carriage, on the beach, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, even on the BART. But no one I knew had a naked engagement moment. Oh sure, afterward I assumed most were naked. But during the actual moment? I wanted to keep that to myself.
We got dressed, finally, piled into the car, and headed back into the city after stopping for cheeseburgers and milkshakes. Did I show my ring to every person working the drive-thru that day? You bet your sweet bippy I did. Here’s me and my ring biting into a burger; here’s me and my ring drinking a milkshake. I even had Simon re-create the moment by sliding an onion ring down my finger. For someone who’d originally questioned the entire idea of getting married and whether it was necessary, I was sure turned around by a sparkly something.
When we got to the hospital, I turned the ring around, facing the diamond into the palm of my hand. I didn’t want Sophia to see it right away. I knew what Mimi was saying about the thunder stealing. I knew she’d be happy for me, but this was still very much about little Mary Jane, and I wanted to make sure we saw her first.
We knocked, and Sophia gave us the go-ahead to come in. Sitting up in her bed, makeup flawless and hair shining, she was eating take-out fried chicken while Neil sprawled on the couch, holding Mary Jane close to his chest.
“Hi!” Sophia called out, pausing from her chicken frenzy for only a moment to say hello. “Sorry, I’m starving and this hospital food was just not cutting it. I just pushed a baby out of my coochie, and all they want to give me is Jell-O? Fuck that, I needed something real.”
Every thought I’d had about Sophia softening into motherhood went right out the window. Thank goodness.
Mary Jane let out the tiniest gurgle and coo, and four pairs of eyes locked on the bundle in Neil’s arms. Sophia beamed. Okay, she’d softened a bit.
“How’re you feeling, Mama?” I asked, crossing over to her and smoothing her hair back. “You look fantastic.”
“I do, I really do. You should have seen me this morning though, I looked dreadful. Now I know why the Kardashians have the glam squad stop by after every birth; otherwise you look half dead in every picture with your newborn.”
“You look gorgeous,” Neil insisted. “Before or after any glam squad.”
Sophia beamed again. Simon had sat down next to Neil on the couch, and was examining the pink bundle.
“Dude, you can totally hold her, just ask.” Neil puffed out his chest, causing the bundle to rise up and out.
“I guess I could, just for a minute,” Simon replied, stealing a quick look at me. I grinned back, grateful to get another chance to watch Simon holding a baby. Hello, ovaries, I wondered when you were going to sit up straight.
Sophia and I watched the two guys transfer Mary Jane between them with all the precision of a tactical nuke team disarming a warhead. It took all I could not to giggle out loud, but it was incredibly sweet. “So how are you feeling? Like, for real how are you feeling?” I asked Sophia, once the transfer was complete.
“Like I just pushed a baby out of my coochie,” she groaned, biting back into her chicken. “It hurt like a motherfucker. But totally worth it. Have you seen how freaking cute she is?”
“Pretty freaking cute I’d say,” I replied. “You up for some more good news?”
“Always,” she said through a mouthful. I turned the ring around. She screeched, showing me her chicken and waking her child.
“Soph! What the hell?” Neil cried out as he and Simon both looked at each other and then at Mary Jane when she started crying.
“That’s literally the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Really? How about the time I told you to lick my sweet—”
The great thing about scrambled eggs is they’re so easy to make again when the first batch gets too cold to eat.
Moments later, as we lay on the kitchen table, we heard the sound of a plate crashing to the floor.
“You owe me for that plate,” I said.
“You owe me for that orgasm.”
There was another crash. “Oops. Sorry about that,” I said, not at all sorry.
“When I broke your plate it was accidental, in a fit of passion. Pushing plates off the table on purpose isn’t going to get you anywhere, Caroline.”
“I doubt that, Simon. Look how fantastic this ring looks on my hand while it’s holding your cock.”
“Jesus Christ, woman.”
Moments later . . .
“I heard you on the phone with Jillian earlier. You really didn’t tell her?”
“No, I told her I was taking a personal day but I didn’t say why.”
“Why are you taking a personal day?”
“To fuck your brains out underneath our kitchen table.”
“I see.”
“You have a problem with this?”
“It’s the best use of a personal day I can think of.”
“Agreed. Now, let’s get to it.”
“Are you going to be this bossy when we’re married?”
“You have no idea, Simon. You have no idea.”
Hours later . . .
“I’m seriously hungry.”
“Me too. Can you control yourself?”
“Me? You’re the one that was pushing plates off the table on purpose.”
“Don’t start that again. Let’s grab something on the way to the hospital.”
“Are you having a heart attack? I know that last round was pretty intense. Thanks for being so bendy, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, and no on the heart attack business. I told Sophia I’d stop by today, see how she and the little one are doing.”
“So we have to put on clothes now, I suppose.”
“If you want to make it past security, it’s a safe bet. Come on, I want to call my mom and tell her the good news.”
“What about your dad?”
“You get to call him, and explain why you didn’t talk to him first before asking me to be your lawfully wedded wifey.”
“Shit. I mean, yay.”
Simon and I called my parents, who were ecstatic. My mom immediately shifted into wedding mode, asking me all kinds of questions about when and where and had I thought about colors and did I want my cousin Bernice to be a bridesmaid and made me tell her every detail about when he asked me to marry him. I left out the detail about us being naked at the time; that part was for me and me alone. I knew girls who’d been asked in a horse-drawn carriage, on the beach, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, even on the BART. But no one I knew had a naked engagement moment. Oh sure, afterward I assumed most were naked. But during the actual moment? I wanted to keep that to myself.
We got dressed, finally, piled into the car, and headed back into the city after stopping for cheeseburgers and milkshakes. Did I show my ring to every person working the drive-thru that day? You bet your sweet bippy I did. Here’s me and my ring biting into a burger; here’s me and my ring drinking a milkshake. I even had Simon re-create the moment by sliding an onion ring down my finger. For someone who’d originally questioned the entire idea of getting married and whether it was necessary, I was sure turned around by a sparkly something.
When we got to the hospital, I turned the ring around, facing the diamond into the palm of my hand. I didn’t want Sophia to see it right away. I knew what Mimi was saying about the thunder stealing. I knew she’d be happy for me, but this was still very much about little Mary Jane, and I wanted to make sure we saw her first.
We knocked, and Sophia gave us the go-ahead to come in. Sitting up in her bed, makeup flawless and hair shining, she was eating take-out fried chicken while Neil sprawled on the couch, holding Mary Jane close to his chest.
“Hi!” Sophia called out, pausing from her chicken frenzy for only a moment to say hello. “Sorry, I’m starving and this hospital food was just not cutting it. I just pushed a baby out of my coochie, and all they want to give me is Jell-O? Fuck that, I needed something real.”
Every thought I’d had about Sophia softening into motherhood went right out the window. Thank goodness.
Mary Jane let out the tiniest gurgle and coo, and four pairs of eyes locked on the bundle in Neil’s arms. Sophia beamed. Okay, she’d softened a bit.
“How’re you feeling, Mama?” I asked, crossing over to her and smoothing her hair back. “You look fantastic.”
“I do, I really do. You should have seen me this morning though, I looked dreadful. Now I know why the Kardashians have the glam squad stop by after every birth; otherwise you look half dead in every picture with your newborn.”
“You look gorgeous,” Neil insisted. “Before or after any glam squad.”
Sophia beamed again. Simon had sat down next to Neil on the couch, and was examining the pink bundle.
“Dude, you can totally hold her, just ask.” Neil puffed out his chest, causing the bundle to rise up and out.
“I guess I could, just for a minute,” Simon replied, stealing a quick look at me. I grinned back, grateful to get another chance to watch Simon holding a baby. Hello, ovaries, I wondered when you were going to sit up straight.
Sophia and I watched the two guys transfer Mary Jane between them with all the precision of a tactical nuke team disarming a warhead. It took all I could not to giggle out loud, but it was incredibly sweet. “So how are you feeling? Like, for real how are you feeling?” I asked Sophia, once the transfer was complete.
“Like I just pushed a baby out of my coochie,” she groaned, biting back into her chicken. “It hurt like a motherfucker. But totally worth it. Have you seen how freaking cute she is?”
“Pretty freaking cute I’d say,” I replied. “You up for some more good news?”
“Always,” she said through a mouthful. I turned the ring around. She screeched, showing me her chicken and waking her child.
“Soph! What the hell?” Neil cried out as he and Simon both looked at each other and then at Mary Jane when she started crying.
