Teenagers, Love and Pregnancy

Chapter 21

"That is some rock."

"Yeah," I said with a smile as I stared down at my engagement ring. "Yeah, I know."

It was December 31st, New Year's Eve, and I was standing in the still-not baby nursery with Joey. We were both armed to the tooth with paint brushes, paint rollers, and paint itself, ready to turn this drab guest room in a baby paradise. Kendall had taken an early flight that morning back to Seattle, in order to unpack and get ready for his second semester in college. Already I missed him so much it hurt, but having Joey there to talk with made things a lot more bearable. I was now thirty-three weeks pregnant (and massive), which meant we only had three weeks to get completely ready for this baby. John, Mom, and I had been working a lot since Christmas baby-proofing the house: putting bumpers on hard surfaces so the baby didn't hit his head, tying cabinet door handles shut so no little hands found there way in there, covering doorknobs with safety covers so only adults could open them, and putting small gates in front of dangerous areas like the kitchen, the bathrooms, and the stairs so Little Man couldn't get into them by himself. Now the fun part was here -- the interior decorating.

I reluctantly slipped my engagement ring into the pocket of my oversized sweatpants so it would stay paint-free. I was wearing those with a 2XL T-shirt from Wal-Mart I had bought just for painting.

"So," Joey said. "Do you know where you want to put the furniture, so we know what we're working with when I start moving stuff in?"

"I think I want the crib over there, in the corner where the bed used to be," I said. "That way, two of the four sides of the crib he could possibly get out from are blocked. And I want the changing station in the left corner by the door. I think the rocking chair should be somewhat near the bed, so if I sit there, I can see him, and so when I rock him to sleep I won't have to move him to far to put him in bed."

"Awesome," Joey said. "That's great. Before all that though, are you ready to get painting?"

"Definitely!"

Joey poured baby blue paint we had bought in November into the aluminum pans on the floor. He showed me exactly how to roll paint on so it look professional, and we got started. We worked in silence at first, but soon enough, the conversation kicked in, rowdy and entertaining and funny, like it always was whenever we got together. Withing fifteen minutes, Joey was making fun of me for the millionth time about chowing down on some pickles and blueberry waffles at Waffle House.

"Come ON," I said, snorting like I only did when I laughed super hard. "It could not have been THAT funny."

"Oh, I can assure you, it was," Joey said, wiping tears from laughter from his eyes.

"It's this baby, I swear! He makes me do the craziest stuff!"

"I'll say! By the way Cam, have you picked out a name yet?"

"Ugh, no!" I said, rolling my eyes as huge glop of blue paint landed on the front of my shirt. Good thing I was almost due. This shirt would never be wearable again.

"Are you saying no because you don't have a name for your child, or no because you just ruined your shirt?" Joey said with a chuckle.

"Both," I said. "Oh well. It's only worth three dollars."

"I surely hope you're not talking about the baby," he teased.

"Joey!" I reached over and flung a clean foam paintbrush at Joey. It hit him directly in the nose.

"Score!" I yelled.

The rest of the painting went like this, fun, playful banter mixed in with serious talks, mostly about the baby. I realized that I liked Joey as a best friend way more than I had ever liked him as a boyfriend. I could have fun with him, but at the same time, I could confide my deepest secrets and fears in him. And unlike most people I knew from high school, Joey didn't judge me or think any less of me for getting pregnant. He understood that tons of kids were sleeping together unprotected senior year, and I just happened to be the unlucky one -- or what I thought was the unlucky one. Now I knew that having a baby made me THE luckiest girl in my graduating class, and Joey got that. But I think the thing that I loved most about Joey was the fact that I had cheated on him when I got pregnant, that after he broke up with me and I went back to my now-fiance, he still didn't hate me for it. He was forgiving and caring, and I hoped that one day my son could be like him.

After about an hour and a half, we were finally finished.

"I'm gonna go grab some water while we let this dry," Joey said. "You might want to keep that face mask you're wearing on, so the fumes don't get to the baby."

I smiled and nodded. Joey thought he was just going to get some water and come back up, but that wasn't the case. I had a little surprise in store for him.

I grabbed on of the smaller foam brushes, used for detailing, and soaked it leftover paint until it was full and heavy. I then stood behind the door, waiting until I heard Joey climb the stairs and come into the nursery.

"Gotcha!" I said, laughing wildly as I jumped from behind the stairs and flinging paint all over him. "That'll show you to talk about MY pickles!"

"Oh no you don't!" Joey said as he sprinted across the room, grabbing a paintbrush full of paint and flinging it at me. As I tried to slink across the room to reload, Joey got me again and again, coating my hair, shirt, and face with paint. I had two paintbrushes now, and got him with double action, and soon we were both coated.

As soon as Joey ran to refill his brush in an aluminum pan of paint across the room, I snuck behind him and placed my bare hand in an open paint can. I crept up behind Joey and as soon as he turned around, I smacked my wet hand across his face, leaving a perfect blue handprint over his mouth, nose, and cheeks.

I backed away slowly from him, giggling as fire flashed across his eyes. He advanced toward me slowly, his hands covered in paint. I was forced to stop as my back hit the door. I closed my eyes, waiting for my face to be covered in paint.

I could hear Joey moving closer and closer to me. Soon, I could feel him there, his warm breath on my face. I felt him move my mask away from my face, and I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, ready for the inevitable and to be covered in paint. . .but that's not what happened at all.

I opened my eyes to Joey kissing me.