Unhinged √

34.

   Fact? Pregnancy makes women headstrong. I mean all the pregnant women I have known were sufficiently stubborn pre-preg but it's like it gets quadrupled when they take in. Ingrid refused to give up her new job waiting tables, she agreed to let the thrift store one go after she tripped on a sheer stocking but the one at the diner, it's like she's been married to the place.

She says staying at home will be boring and make her feel more like a parasite regardless of whatever I say but I know she is just stressing about paying me back, another thing I cannot convince her against.

She just passed the two months mark, her figure hasn't been altered at all, she won't draw attention to herself; that is her excuse.

What I am really worried about is her slipping on spilled coffee or forgotten ketchup and hurting herself and the baby but Ingrid is very self-aware and I have to trust her, doesn't stop me from worrying though and it's all I do when I am not occupied with practice.

This week has been crazy with getting back into the gym and practicing with my new team. The welcome was typical, lots of fist bumps and handshakes, names thrown everywhere, some questions but nothing too personal like; 'Do you like to take it up the ass or you like to stick it in there'.

That is a question I have been asked too many times in my career. I mean, nobody goes about asking the other players how they like to dance but since I am the poster boy for sports homosexuality, they don't stop digging.

   Travis is home, his yellow Porsche is in the garage and the sight of it almost always make me laugh. I don't know how he got it back after selling it once, he said he asked the guy nicely and that could mean a lot of things that I do not want to be associated with. He loves that car like a child, it's a little creepy.

I grab my gym bag and drag my ass into the house and can immediately hear voices in the kitchen area. Ingrid works mostly morning shifts so she's home from three and Travis leaves work at 4pm.

I can't hear what they are talking about but whatever it is, it brings smiles to both their faces and soon, they are both laughing loudly with Ingrid tipping back on her stool and Travis trying not to chop off his fingers with the cucumber he has laid out on the board. He has on a shirt, which is like against his house rules but with Ingrid around this couple of days, he's been trying on some decency.

It's a little unsettling how comfortable they appear to be in each other's company but I am not complaining. They both look up as I proceed further into the kitchen, dumping my bag on an empty stool.

"You are back, finally". Ingrid smiles in greeting.

"Hey Ingrid". I go over to the other side of the counter, where Travis is already waiting, lips puckered up. I kiss him slowly and feel him smile before pulling away.

"Hey". He says before returning to his vegetables".

"Hi. How is your ankle?" It has healed nicely he doesn't need to wrap it up anymore but he still experiences discomfort.

"I told you to stop asking. Do you want a sandwich?" He asks as I browse the fridge behind him for a bottle of water and gulp down half of it.

"Please". It comes out as a burp and they both laugh.

"How was practice?" Ingrid inquires in between stealing slices of tomato.

"Good. It was a notch above what we've been doing all week. Getting ready for the game tomorrow, you know".

"Right, the game. Travis got me a ticket". My eyes shift to my boyfriend who appears to be more interested in his cooking.

"I thought it was for Pokello".