35. Adam
Adam
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, buddy, careful, hot pot here." My heart flipped in my chest from Asher suddenly charging at me and tackling my legs while I stood in front of the stove frying dinner.
"Mama angwy. Scwarwy." Poor thing looked terrified, which made me wonder just what the heck was up this time with my pregnant woman.
Well, I didn't have to wonder for long because in came a very pissed-off Eliza with a shirt bunched up in her clenched hands—my shirt, to be exact.
"This better be ketchup or paint, or so help me God, I will lock you in this house until you learn to beat someone up without getting bloody.
" Flailing the dirty shirt in the air with a glare, she huffed loudly.
"I already told you I don't want this shit in the house.
What if our children get into the laundry basket and catch whatever shit is on your clothes?
Or what if the dog eats it and gets sick? "
The urge to roll my eyes tensed at the muscles in my head, but I refrained for the sake of my safety.
As much as I loved how pregnancy has brought out Eliza's spunk, having it taken out on me wasn't something I appreciated too much.
"I wish I could tell you it was ketchup, but…
" Pretty sure that was leftover brain matter from the man who got cozy with my fists last night, but Eliza did not need to know that.
"I kind of got carried away. I'm sorry."
I had no excuse, and I should've been more mindful and careful. All I could do now was apologize and move on.
Turning off the stove, I moved the pan over before going over to her with open arms and an apologetic smile. " Mia rosa , I really am sorry. I was going to take care of it before you can see." I sighed softly with a frown, taking the shirt from her and throwing it into the trash before hugging her.
Huffing and pouting, Eliza hugged me back tightly and smushed her face into my chest. "I just don't want the kids seeing it, and the smell makes me very sick.
" Uh oh, the way her voice cracked meant tears would follow soon.
"And I just hate how fucking queasy it makes me, and I don't like throwing up. "
With a very wary grin, I awkwardly patted her back as she broke out sobbing. "Uhh… Shh… Shh… There, there…?" Oh God, this was so awkward!
Soft thumps of waddling footsteps padded over to us, and a pair of tiny arms wrapped themselves around our legs. "Mama, no cry. Why sad?" Asher comforted Eliza with some pats on her leg and looked up at her with a soft frown of confusion.
Reaching up, Asher lightly poked and patted Eliza's round stomach. "Rwosie make Mama cry?"
Eliza chuckled through her tears and wiped them away with the back of her hand. "No, honey, no, Mommy's just being weird." Of course, her answer only earned a confused head tilt from our toddler.
To be fair, that was probably the best and only answer he would get at this moment.
I doubt the almost three-year-old kid would understand a whole talk about pregnancy and hormones.
Heck, I was a grown-ass man, and I barely grasped the whole concept of pregnancy.
No matter how many books I read or how many questions I asked the doctor or my friends and family, nothing prepared me for dealing with it during the moment.
Even with my mother warning me about the crazy shit she did while pregnant and what my father had to put up with, I didn't really want to believe it. Well, guess the joke's on me for that.
Bending down, I picked Asher up for a family hug. "Are you excited for your little sister to come?" I asked Asher with an excited smile while rubbing Eliza's stomach with one hand. "Ready to be the best big brother ever?"
"Yeah!" Asher squealed and giggled excitedly, clapping his hands and happily bouncing in my arms. "Dwiapwers, mum mum Dada's food, toys…" And off he went with his incomprehensible toddler babble as he let his excitement get the best of him.
Even though this moment was blissful, I couldn't help but notice Eliza's dull eyes.
"Hey." I brushed a finger across her cheek to snag her attention.
"What's wrong? Or is it just hormones?" She gave me quite the scare the other day when she started sobbing over her dinner; turns out it was because she was so thankful for me making it and how wonderful it tasted.
With how hard she bawled her eyes out, you'd think that she had just witnessed a beloved's death.
Sighing heavily, she directed her worried and sad eyes at Asher. "I'm just worried about his speech, that's all." She voiced her worries out loud with a soft frown.
"Darling, the doctor said that it's fine, that Asher is okay even if he is on the lower end of average.
And besides, he is learning two, sometimes three, languages, so it's natural for him to be a little slower because the wires in his brain are trying to cross and connect correctly," I reminded her with a reassuring smile.
I didn't mean to get him into Italian, but he started to pick it up from being around me and hearing me use it with my parents and Hailee at times.
It wasn't hardcore or anything; it was just simple terms and conversational in nature.
Then, Eliza threw in some Vietnamese phrases and words here and there, so I doubt the toddler was having an easy time with sorting things out in his tiny noggin.
Obviously, I wasn't too worried because the doctor said so.
Also, it wasn't as if Asher was completely silent.
He loved to talk err babble. It'd start out as actual words, but then it'd trail out to just strings of sounds the more amped up he got.
Also, he was only two, well, almost three, so how much could an almost three-year-old even talk?
"But, if you're that worried, then we can take him back to the doctor," I told Eliza with a half-hearted smile. At the end of the day, a mother always knows best, right? Was that how the saying went?
Wobbling her head around with an unsure hum, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed in defeat.
"Maybe after I have the baby, and the hormones simmer down.
I mean, I get worked up thinking about him growing up," she decided with a lopsided smile.
"I'm probably just letting my hormones make my worries worse. "
The edges of her lips curved up with her eyes until she looked genuinely happy. "I'm so lucky to have you two in my life." She sighed happily, adoring both her boys with her eyes for a long while before kissing each of us on the cheek.
"I'll go set the table while you finish up in here," she said, stepping away from me and leaving.
If I didn't have Asher in my arm, then I'd grab a piece of that juicy ass of hers.
Honestly, pregnancy did wonders for her body, and I loved how plump she'd gotten over the months.
Her hips flared out so much; her legs thickened so well that her thighs felt like soft pillows and her lovely breasts swelled so much that they filled my hands fully.
Although not gonna lie, I loved her smaller breasts from before; they added a daintiness to her that I really appreciated.
"Food? Pop pop?" Asher leaned a bit out of my arm to reach around and point at the pan filled with oil.
"Frying. Frying food," I told him in a slow and steady voice, making sure to exaggerate my lips for him to see me enunciate the words.
Asher's lips pursed and mimicked mine for a few seconds before he copied me. "Frwying food?"
Eh, close enough.
Ruffling his hair, I kissed his cheek. "That's right, bud! Good job!" I praised him with a wide grin. "Let Dada finish food, then we eat. Go to Mama, alright?"
Asher's chubby little feet took off like a roadrunner the moment I set him down.
At least the kid's comprehension seems to be intact, so no worries there.
Again, maybe it was because I wasn't his mother that I didn't worry too much.
Well, I wasn't one to worry much about anything in general.
Things happen as they happen, so no point in stressing out about—
"Dada! Mama owie thummy!" Asher's tank of a body crashed into my legs, making me stumble a little.
Chuckling nervously, I picked Asher up and quickly speed-walked to the dining table, where Eliza was hunched over with a grimace and holding her stomach.
"Oh shit." Cussing around Asher was a big no-no, but I say this situation allowed for one slip-up.
Besides, it wasn't like I could control what came out of my mouth when my brain and heart went a thousand miles a minute.
Setting Asher down, I went to Eliza's side, putting my arms around to support her. "Did you hurt yourself? Did you bump the table? A chair? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?" Fretting over her was second nature to me, even before she became pregnant.
"No," Eliza grunted with a worsening frown. "I need to go," she whimpered through gritted teeth.
"Go? Go where?" Did she need help going to the bathroom? The couch? Our bed? A bath?
"Bub, I swear, the one time your little brain cells need to work, they don't." She seethed, glaring at me and digging her nails into my forearm as she let out a pained grunt.
…
Yeah, it took me a very long minute or two to connect the damn wires—sue me.
"Oh!" Forcing myself away from Eliza, I scrambled around the house, running from one room to the next, grabbing keys, bags, and phones.
This moment was not supposed to be like this! I had it all planned out! Things were supposed to be a smooth transition, and everything swooped up in one quick run. But nope. Instead of keeping a leveled head and being in a zen state, I ran around like a maniac chicken with its head cut off.
"W-wait, the baby's not supposed to come for another three weeks!" I stressed as I zipped past Eliza in search of my car keys.