Best Laid Plans

Truth

Perrie

When I arrive back at Jade's that evening, she's already there. We have dinner reservations somewhere or other, she tells me, but I'm distracted and tired and a bit cranky. Then she hands me a card.

A credit card.

With my name on it.

"What is this?" I fan the card in front of her, pinched between my fingers. "Are we doing a Daddy thing now? Like, 'call me Daddy,' instead of baby daddy? Because that's really something you should talk about beforehand."

"What?" Jade looks confused about my outburst, then she looks pissed off. "No, don't call me Daddy. For fuck's sake, Perrie. It's for expenses. For the baby," she adds, before I can interrupt. "You mentioned shopping the other day and I want to pay for whatever the baby needs. If that's okay with you." She says that part sarcastically, as if I'm being ridiculous.

"Oh." Well, sure, that makes more sense. Did I mention that I'm cranky? "I guess. I don't know. Maybe we could split the expenses?"

"We could," she nods. "But it's hardly an even split. I'm not the one carrying or giving birth to the baby. I'm kind of behind the eight-ball here in terms of doing my share, so helping financially seems like the least I can do."

Hmm. She's not totally wrong. I guess I can use her card to buy a pink astronaut cat blanket for Tubbs. "They do need a lot of stuff," I agree, thinking about that kid on the plane and the gate-checked stroller and the diaper bag and Colchester the Stuffed Kitten. "Hey, do you know anyone who can implant a tracking device?"

I had the worst nightmare last night that I lost the baby's favorite stuffed thing. There's got to be a way to ensure that never happens, right?

"A microchip only works if you scan it. Anything with GPS tracking would require a cellular receiver and a battery so it's not really ethical. Or possible, even."

"Oh my god, you weirdo, I wasn't talking about for the baby. I was talking about their teddy bear. Or stuffed dog. Or whatever their favorite stuffed thing is that we can never ever lose."

"Right. That's totally what I meant too." She runs a hand awkwardly through her long hair and I don't think that's what she meant at all, but I'm mollified that it's not technologically possible to embed a GPS tracker so I drop it. I've got other things on my mind right now.

When I kick off my shoes Jade reminds me of the dinner reservations. I groan and walk over to the fridge to see what's inside. "Can't we just stay here and eat dinner on the couch? I'm really tired and I want to put on stretchy pants and talk about your first fiancée."

Jade looks so shocked it would be funny if I wasn't seriously anxious about the situation.

"My first what?!"

"I mean, I assume she was your first," I add with my back to her while I investigate the contents of the fridge. There's no prepared meal today. We've got turkey, grapes, cheese, eggs, apples, lettuce, tomato and on and on. Damn, having a housewife is the best. "Do you have more than one ex-fiancée? I'm referring to Margo, in case I needed to be more specific."

"Margo? Was she there today? At the conference?"

When I turn around, she's taking her jacket off which gets me all hot and bothered. Guessing this means she's on board to cancel our dinner reservations, I close the refrigerator and head towards Jade's bedroom. I've taken over one of her two walk-in closets with my suitcase and the limited items I brought with me for a week in London, so I head there, slipping out of my dress and evaluating my options for comfort clothing. I think my refusal to buy new clothing in acceptance of the expansion of my waistline has finally caught up with me because my sleep shorts are getting a little tight.