Book #2, Choices series. Not a stand alone unless you want to skip any "plot points."
***
"Please hurry..." Polly begged.
"Don't be greedy," Michael scolded. "Let him prepare you..."
***
A 32 year old, single mother with little experience outside...
All afternoon they discussed the wedding as relatives and close friends filtered in and out of the house. Helen never stopped - her entertainment mode was clearly set to on.
By the time they got home, Polly was all Christmas and wedding'd out. She immediately propped her feet up and looked at the wrapping paper littering the floor. Fuck it.
Mason laid down in the club chair with his legs dangling off the arm. "Did your mom really get turned on listening to your dad talk about biomechanical engineering? She had that same look you get..."
"Exactly!" Michael said as though he solved a puzzle. "That's how I recognized it!"
"Ugh, yes. They are terrible. He totally knows how it...makes her feel...when he does that shit," Polly said reliving her childhood realizations.
"So, she digs that he is smart?" Mason asked. "I mean I like that Mike's smart, but he usually says such dumb shit..."
"Fuck off, little boy," Michael said giving Mason the finger.
Polly giggled. "Um, yea. And I guess when he says or does stuff that...exemplifies that...well, you saw it," Polly said remembering how her mother dragged her father out of the house after he discussed existentialism with Walt's aunt. Yes, his aunt is also living. Like cockroaches these people. They will outlive us all.
"Well, good for her," Michael said. "Likely harder to find a smart person anyway. I'm definitely not batting 1000," he laughed throwing a wadded up ball of wrapping paper at Mason.
"I'm getting my masters!" Mason defended himself.
"And I am a master, bitch!"
"So immature sometimes," Polly put her head back and closed her eyes.
"No sleeping yet, Pol," Michael said. "We got you something."
"You guys got me enough," Polly mumbled softly.
A hand reached out and took Polly's left hand. She opened her eyes to both men standing in front of her. "Um..."
"You are supposed to be standing for this or it isn't as romantic," Michael smirked.
"Wh-?"
They hauled her up to her feet. Then both of the men got to one knee. Oh no. This is so weird. But romantic.
"Polly," Mason started. "Since Michael gets to put the other ring on, we decided that I could do this one." He then opened a small black box that Polly hadn't seen before that moment.
Inside was a platinum ring with two stones meeting in the middle. One stone was pear shaped, while the other round. Mason took it out of the box.
"Polly, I uh, I'm not too good with speeches so uh...um, Michael liked the round stone. But I wanted something that looked like a tear. But they call it pear, which I still don't get. But anyway...so we compromised and got both. So uh, will you marry us?" Mason asked.
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Polly was surprised by the ring that must have put them back quite a bit of money. But also at the thought and symbolism that it carried.
"Of course I will," she replied weepy eyed. She sniffed, "But I didn't get you guys a ring or..." sniffing again as the tears fell "...anything like that. Just stupid gifts that don't have any meaning and I'm so..."
"Oh damn, we messed up," Michael said.
"What? No..." Polly hiccuped. She then placed her hands on the back of their heads and leaned forward. "It was perfect. I'm just..." she sniffed "...emotional. Hormones."
"Are you sure, Pol? I know I fucked up the first proposal...if you can call it that," Michael said.
"And that one was totally not my fault," Mason said bringing up his hands in a defensive posture. "Just so we are clear. All him. Not me. Him. Not me."
Polly smiled as Mason tried to lighten the air.
Michael gave Mason a nudge. "Are you going to put the dang ring on her finger or just deflect for a while?" Then Michael grumbled something about kids these days and how he should have been in charge of the ring.
Polly presented her ring finger to Mason to ensure he didn't need to deal with any more of Michael's wrath.
It slipped just past the middle knuckle and stopped. Polly started to cry again. "I'm swollen like a-a balloon! I'm retaining so much water. And I can't even wear it around my neck on a necklace because of the beautiful design!"
Michael looked at Mason. And Mason just shook his head. "Your devil spawn. Not mine. Your fau-"
"I hate you," Michael groused. "Baby, let's go to bed and conquer this in the morning." Michael picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom.
***
"Doc, the mood swings are...wow," Mason told the OB during the ultrasound appointment. "Like PMS times like a thousand."
"Doc, I think she may kill us in our sleep. It's getting pretty..." Michael started.
"What did you think would happen to a pregnant woman?! It is all your fault, Michael! You wanted this and now you hate me!"
"No one hates you..."
"Okay, everyone. Let's just take a break here. We will just do this ultrasound..." the doctor tried to cut through the domestic squabble.
"You hate me! I knew you would. I'm so fat and ugly and fat..." Polly sobbed.
"Ms Carter, please just look at the screen," the doctor tried again. "See, those little blobs..."
Polly focused on the screen to her right. "My babies," she sighed. "Little tiny, itty bitty babies. Two of them." She smiled at the doctor. "They look perfect, huh?"
"Yes, ma'am. Absolutely. Let me leave you to get dressed and print out a copy for you."
"Thanks, doctor," Polly said as she wiped the tears with a tissue he presented her.
"About the mood swings, doc," Mason said as he followed the doctor out the door.
Michael helped Polly stand and grabbed the clothing she had left on a chair. "They're perfect, princess. I'm so proud of you. And them. I know you are a little emotional right now, but it will all be fine. We will make it through all of this."
"I just forgot how emotional I got with Sloan. I thought a lot of that was being so young and scared. But now everything is so different - everyone is so supportive...well, except for Sloan...and you guys are so great..."
"Shhh, you're getting a little inside your head again. Perhaps a movie or something to distract you?" Michael asked as he watched her change her clothing. "Although I bet I could distract you..."
