CHAPTER 43
Palmer
“You can’t tell anyone. Not even Chase!” I beg Lindy as I walk her to the front door. We’d just spent the last two hours discussing my options and making a plan as Mamma Mia! played in the background.
Lindy turns to look at me, and I can’t quite read her expression.
I groan. “Okay, fine. You can tell Chase, but you have to make him promise not to tell Bailey!”
She studies me for a moment before quietly responding, “It’s not that. I just… I worry about you, PJ.” Lindy’s hand grabs mine and pulls me in for a tight hug. “Do you want me to stay over? Or you can come to our place. You know, just in case you need anything.”
After giving her a brief squeeze, I step out of the embrace and look at her earnestly. “I’ll be okay.” Mouse’s tags jingle behind me as she shakes. “Besides, I’ve got Mouse here if I need anything.”
Mouse plods up next to me and leans against my leg as if to prove my point.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Lindy eyes me skeptically.
“Scout’s honor. I just… I just need a little bit to process”—I gesture widely—“all of this. I do think…”
I pause for moment before continuing. “No, I know I want to keep it. I’m just not sure how Bailey is going to feel about everything or how any of this is going to work. Plus, I need to be the one to tell him. I don’t want him hearing from anyone else.”
“Understood.” She nods. “Well, regardless of what he or you decide, you know I’ll be here for you.”
“I know.” I smile.
I lock the door behind Lindy, then Mouse and I make our way back to the couch. She curls up on the cushion next to me, her blocky head resting on top of my thigh, and I stroke her head absentmindedly.
A million questions race through my mind. About me, about Bailey, about us, about a baby, and a thousand other things. Above all of that, though, one thought rings out louder than all the others:
Why do I feel so calm?
Up until the moment when I saw the pink lines on the tests, I had been panicking.
The second the lines appeared, it was as if all the fear and uncertainty had disappeared and the only thing left in its place was serenity.
A calm, soothing thought that this has always been what’s meant to happen, that she was always meant to happen.
I stop and gaze down at my stomach. It looks no different than it ever has, and I rest my hand against it.
She.
A slow smile spreads across my face. Don’t ask me how I know or why I think it’s a she. I just do.
“Hi, sweet girl,” I say.
Mouse tilts her head at me, and her eyes follow my gaze to my hand.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” I continue. “But I’m your mom.”
Mouse licks my hand, nuzzling her head against my belly and sighing contentedly.
“And that’s Mouse. She’s your big sister.”
I rub my hand softly across the fabric then whisper, “We can’t wait to meet you. Also, if you could, like, cool it on the all-day nausea, that would be much appreciated.”
Grabbing my phone, I turn on the camera and pause before I hit record. “I’m going to make a video for your daddy, but I can’t tell him about you yet. I want to tell him in person. But I think he will be just as excited to meet you as I am.”
Shifting to balance my phone on the arm of the couch, I hit record. “Hey, Bailey. Today is May 17th. Day twenty-four since you’ve been gone.” I pan the camera to Mouse resting on my leg. “We definitely miss you. Mousey, speak.”
She lets out a grumble then moves her face away from the camera.
I let out a laugh before bringing the video back to my face. “Well, I thought she was going to show you the new trick she learned, but I guess not. Today has been—”
I pause, searching for the right word to say.
“Busy,” I continue. “I did some cleaning and some grading. I wrote an IEP this morning, then Lindy came over, and we baked cookies and watched a movie. Have you ever seen Mamma Mia!? If the answer is no, I know the first thing we’re doing when you get back! Well, maybe the second or third thing.”
A blush steals into my cheeks.
“Anyway, Mouse and I are about ready to go to bed. We can’t wait for you to get back and to hear about… well, to hear about whatever we are allowed to hear about. Okay, I’ll talk with you tomorrow. I lo—I’ll see you then. Okay. Yeah. Um, bye.”
I stop recording and hit send without watching it back. God, I wish I wasn’t so awkward.
“We both better hope you get your dad’s ability to stay cool, calm, and collected,” I say to my belly. “Because if you end up with my personality, good luck.”
Rising from the couch, I pat my leg, and Mouse follows closely behind.
We settle into bed, her curled up against my hip, and my hand resting on my stomach.
When I drift off to sleep, I dream about our family, about me, Bailey, and our baby girl, leaving any of the questions I might have had in my waking state as something to worry about tomorrow.
After all, what else are dreams good for if not to escape the nightmare that is reality?