Two Punks In Love

Her Person

Kat

The back of Madam's mansion is mostly windows because it faces the lake. With the spring moon pouring clean light in, it's easy to navigate through the the furniture, scattered toys and musical instruments in the great room.

It's not quite midnight. Trace and Adam knocked back a few celebratory shots before bed, and Trace is zonked out in "our" bedroom upstairs, but I can't sleep. All I can think about is the two little lives growing inside me.

I sink into a plush chair, palming my phone. I check my texts. I have dozens just in the last couple of hours I've tried to sleep, because it's still early in LA. That's nothing. There were hundreds during the evening that Trace and I have spent with the Heartley's.

Once Leed knew I was pregnant, there was just no keeping it under wraps. It spread through my family, SCIC, the Gallants and the del Marco's like wildfire. I texted Marcy and Riley that now that the wild flurry of family texting is winding down, I want to put the lid on my pregnancy news. I don't want anyone besides family to know until my first trimester is complete.

Most of the late night texts are from del Marco clan on the West Coast, still jabbering back and forth about random stuff.

We have a number of threads: one for the whole family, one for the whole family plus Bridge's on-again off again boyfriend Dev, one with Matt, Marianne and all the adult kids plus Riley and me, an almost identical one that includes Dev, one that's just Marianne, her adult daughters and me, and another one like that, but including eight year old Alley. And of course the one that's just the adult kids, plus Riley and me, where we complain about Matt being overbearing, and much less often, about something irritating Marianne has done.

It gets incredibly confusing. More than once we've texted inappropriate stuff to Lane and Alley. A few times Street and Trace have talked shit about Dev on the wrong thread. One time Matt totally messed up and sent us all picture only meant for Marianne.

He has a hard time living that one down because every few days, Dev will retext Matt's junk to all of us. He photoshops things on it. Piercings, tattoos, little hats.

Thankfully, there are no glaring dick pics among my texts tonight. Although Dev has put thought bubbles on my ultrasound image and sent it to both the del Marco and the SCIC threads.

Baby A is saying Please god, no more guitar solos. Baby B is saying Boost that road rap.

Bodie replied with the twenty week scan of his daughter. She's saying Dang. Daddy makes me listen to Mozart.

I laugh. He really does. I never realized how smart Bodie really is until Marley got pregnant. He reads about baby development and parenting constantly now. He's all about his unborn baby girl, except when he's playing Dadager to Darius.

I make my various replies, Haha's, hearts, and likes on all the texts.

There is one text not from del Marco's, SCIC, Gallants or Ballards, and it's pretty much the only one non-pregnancy related.

A picture of a gorgeous engagement ring on a manicured hand with no text.

The number isn't labeled in my phone, but it's a number I've known forever.

This visual engagement announcement makes me super happy. I had a real feeling this girl was the one.

I text back:

She said yes? I can't believe it.

STFU, I'm a catch, comes the reply.

Me: You are. Lucky girl. So happy for you.