Chapter 11 Abby
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Abby
“Did you have shooting pains that came out of your ass?” Cole asks as soon as I answer the call. He doesn’t even give me a chance to say hello.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Hi… yes. Good morning. Did your ass have shooting pains?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask as I start laughing.
“Fucking listen, Abs.”
I stay silent.
“Oh, you’re actually going to do what I said?”
“Mmhmm…”
“Wow… okay.”
“Cole…”
“Right… When you were pregnant with Mav, did you have sharp pains that started in your ass and shot down your legs?”
I cringe because, yes, I definitely had that. “Yeah, I did. It’s called sciatica, and it fucking sucks.”
He makes a muffled noise in agreement.
“Does Riley have it?”
He lets out a heavy exhale. “Yes, and I don’t know what to do. I thought seeing her nauseous during the first trimester was bad. Seeing her in pain is worse.”
The heartbreak in his tone shoots straight to my own heart. He loves her so much. I’m so happy he found his person, that they all found their happily ever after together.
“Putting heat on it can help, and maybe try some stretching.”
“Okay.”
I can’t see him, but I know he’s bobbing his head up and down, and more than likely jotting it down somewhere so he can remember it later.
“What kind of stretches?”
“Mav is seven, Cole. I don’t fucking remember.”
“But you do this medical stuff for a living!”
“You do know I’m an ER nurse and not a physical therapist, right?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“I’m perfectly fucking aware.”
He is so annoying sometimes. “I don’t know what the stretches are called, but anything that stretches the glutes. Just Google it, and you’ll find some, I’m sure.”
“I’m pretty sure if I Google that, I’m going to find something completely different that will definitely not help Riley right now.”
I burst out laughing because I’m sure butt stretching would render some interesting results, most of which wouldn’t help my dear friend. “True. Maybe go with ‘sciatica stretches’ or ‘glute stretches’ instead.”
“I’m sure the government official in charge of monitoring my search history would appreciate it, too,” he says, laughing.
People think Cole is serious all the time, but they’re wrong. He’s serious a lot of the time, but once you get to know him, he really is funny.
Another thought pops into my head. “A massage might help, too.”
His voice brightens. “Are you saying I get to massage her ass?”
I chuckle to myself. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying from a strictly medical perspective here, friend.”
“Right… right… medical.”
I can tell his mind has ventured elsewhere, probably picturing things I don’t want to think about two of my good friends doing. He starts mumbling about massage oil and new pillows.
“Okay, so on that note, I’m going to go.”
“Okay,” he says distractedly.
“Bye, Cole.”
He doesn’t even get the full word “bye” out before the call ends. Damn. I guess someone is eager to go give their woman a massage.
I shake my head and go back to putting away the groceries I had started on before Cole called with all his ass questions.
A wisp of sadness settles over me like it often does when I think about Riley and her pregnancy. My overwhelming reaction is happiness for all four of them.
They deserve this. And I’m so excited to see Mav be a big brother. He’s going to steal the show with his new role, like he has been preparing for it his whole life.
Yet, I can’t help the tiny sliver of heaviness that seeps in because I’m disconnected from it all. I always wanted to have more kids, but that isn’t what life dealt me.
I love Mav more than words could express, and if he’s the only kid I ever have, I will die a happy woman. Just getting to be his mom is enough.
I want everything Cole has found, though. I want a family. I want a home filled with love and laughter. I want more little feet padding around.
I want someone to fall asleep with at night and to bring a warm cup of coffee to when they sleep in on Saturday morning.
I love the life and family I have, but other than Mav, they’re not really my family. It just isn’t the same.
Putting the last few things in the fridge, I rest my forehead against the cool metal door.
Maybe one day…
Pulling myself together, I get busy making the boys a snack. Mav and Oliver are upstairs playing in Mav’s room.
I know they want Pop-Tarts, so I put a couple on a plate. I add some grapes and apple slices, too, just to cover the good mom bases.
I knock on the door before stepping into the room. They’re sprawled out on the floor with a mound of magnetic tiles spread between them.
“Oh, thanks, Mom,” Mav says, hopping up to grab the plate from my hand.
Oliver brings his hand up to his chin and extends it outward, the sign for “thank you.”
I return the gesture, saying, “you’re welcome.”
I am by no means fluent in ASL, but I have picked up some while working in the emergency room.
The thought crosses my mind that maybe Oliver is deaf, but he reacts when people are talking to him. I’m also pretty sure I have seen him whispering to Mav.
Maybe signing is easier for him in certain situations. I don’t know, and it really doesn’t matter. He’s a sweet kid, and he’s a great friend to Mav.
“You boys have fun. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
The sound of their giggles is the last thing I hear as I click the door closed.