Live, Laugh, Loathe

Chapter 27: Damon

I suppress my groan as Drew tips her head from side to side, observing the crib in front of us.

We've been here two hours and have spent an hour of that time going around and around the crib section debating which one we should order. At least we have a bassinet on hold at the front for us. We've decided to start the baby in our room, and eventually move her to the nursery.

"I just don't know, Damon. I like all three colors." She squints at the set of images on the tag attached to the crib showing the different options: forest green, charcoal gray, or white. Nothing revolutionary to me but Drew has decided this is incredibly important.

"White feels too bright, but the green might blend into the mural too much. But at the same time, doesn't the gray seem too dreary?" She turns to look at me, frustration clearly on her face. I'd find her thought process cute if I wasn't itching to get home and get naked.

"I honestly do not have an opinion. I think any would work." She frowns, clearly not happy with my apathy.

"You're not helping Damon! The faster you help me, the faster we get home and have some time to ourselves before the baby shower tonight." She plants her hands on her hips and juts out her chin. The movement also pushes her belly out until it bumps my abs. My hands instantly shoot out to hold her belly, feeling the baby wiggle around. In the last twenty-four hours, I've touched her more than I think in the nine months we've known each other. Each touch is electric, regardless of the intent behind it. Like now, my hands on her belly feels so right, but not in any sexual way. It's a connection between the three of us, a fledgling family of two, almost three. A precursor to when I can hold them both in my arms.

It feels so right it's almost overwhelming.

"Why don't you call Francine? She probably has a good idea of what would work best." A complete shot in the dark, but at least it's an actual suggestion. Anything to get the rest of our day moving. She smiles and pulls out her phone, calling Francine on speaker.

After several rings, someone answers. We can hear the phone get fumbled, and scratchy sounds, like the phone is being dragged across fabric. Drew and I look at each other in confusion; she opens her mouth to say something but is cut off.

"Hello?" Francine's voice sounds muffled and breathy.

"Uh, Francine?"

"Drew! Everything ok? Baby doing good?" Francine's breathing is still labored, and I feel like I hear a distinctly male voice in the background. Interesting.

"Oh yes, everything is fine. I just had a question. Are you? Do you have a guest over? Of the male variety?" I guess Drew didn't miss the male-sounding voice, either.

"Uh.... Not sure what the right answer is. But yes?"

"Why the hell did you answer if you're having fun times?" Asking the important questions, Drew.

"Well, I thought it might be an emergency. Anything could happen at this stage of pregnancy." There's a pause as what sounds like a scuffle for the phone occurs. I think I hear her guest say something along the lines of 'hang up so I can finish you off'. Drew's cheeks turn pink.

"Sorry, I had to fend off this rabid beast. He's apparently not satisfied even though we've barely come up for air once in twelve hours." I officially know way too much about this. I give Drew the 'hurry up' signal, which earns me the middle finger. We're never getting out of here.

"Ok, well, I kind of did have an emergency but not the bad kind. I can't decide on the color of the baby's crib. Options are white, charcoal gray, and forest green."