“How far along are you?” the middle-aged woman currently wrestling with a toddler, asked with a warm smile that helped calm her down a bit.

Well, it really didn’t, but she was willing to pretend that it did if it helped her get through this. Forcing a smile on her face, she said, “Six months,” still wondering why she’d taken so long to tell him.

Granted, the fact that she really couldn’t stand him probably had something to do with it, but there was also the fact that she was in way over her head on this one. Maybe she should have let Rebecca come with her. At least if Rebecca was here she wouldn’t have to worry about Aidan’s reaction, because her best friend would be there for her, ready to slap the crap out of him if he made her cry.

Oh, God…

What if she cried?

She couldn’t do this. No, definitely not today. Maybe tomorrow would be better, she thought as she grabbed her bag and decided that an email should suffice. She’d use a friendly font, double spaces and a casual tone and let him know that in three months he was going to be the proud daddy of a bouncing baby boy that was causing her to eat everything in sight.

Worrying her bottom lip, she shot a glance at the door and wondered if she had time to grab a burger before she met Rebecca for lunch. She could always ask Lucifer to whip her up one while she waited for Rebecca to finish her paper, she decided as she threw her bag over her shoulder and started to make her way to the door, wondering if he’d be willing to whip up a fried egg and bacon to go along with her burger.

If he was willing to do that and had the eggs out anyway, maybe he’d be willing to make her pancakes as well. God, she could really go for some pancakes right about-

“Melanie?” a very friendly looking nurse said as she stepped into the waiting room, “Dr. Bradford is ready to see you now.”

 

The Arrival of Darrin and Marybeth’s Babies

An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle

 

“Oh my God!” Zoe gasped in pain as she slapped her hand down hard on the kitchen island, leaned over and groaned as the contraction that she was pretending wasn’t happening nearly knocked her on her beautiful ass.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Trevor asked casually as he leaned back in his chair, glad the kids were at their Uncle Jared’s so that they wouldn’t have to witness this sad display of bullshit.

Slapping a smile on her face, Zoe said, “Yes, yes of course it is.”

“Uh huh,” he said with a heavy sigh as he watched the stubborn woman take a deep breath, try to stand up only to lean back down, all while throwing him that tightlipped smile that really said it all.

“Do you want to eat now or wait until the barbeque?” she asked, clearly hoping to distract him with the promise of food.

“We can grab something at the hospital,” he said, deciding that this little charade of hers had gone on long enough.

“Why…” she started to say only to let her words trail off with a gasp as she grabbed onto the edge of the counter and tried to breathe through the next contraction.

“Fucking unbelievable,” he muttered as he stood up and pulled his phone out of his back pocket so that he could send Darrin a text message, letting him know that it was time.

“I’m fine!” the adorable little liar that was practically falling over thanks to that large belly that he swore was bigger than her, snapped, apparently dead set on pissing him off today.

“Let’s go,” he said, wrapping his arm around her body so that he could hold onto her as he helped her to the car.

“No, I’m fine,” she argued even as she settled against him and allowed him to guide her towards the garage door.

Thank God Marybeth had insisted on taking care of Zoe’s bag. It was normally something that he handled when Zoe was pregnant and usually ended up screwing up when it came time to go to the hospital. This time she was carrying his cousin’s children and the only thing he had to focus on was his wife.

It was a relief, but it was also pure hell, because for the past few months he’d been struggling not to grow attached to the babies that she was carrying. They weren’t his and he knew that, but it was difficult to feel that way when he held her at night and could feel the babies move against his arm or when he simply looked at her. He loved being a father and would give anything to fall asleep with a baby curled up in his arms one more time.

Then again, with three babies that would mean three times the feedings, changing more diapers, chasing after them as well as three times as many nervous breakdowns. He didn’t miss sleepless nights, going into work in the morning only to realize that he was covered in spit-up, or realizing that he’d accidentally grabbed a bottle of breast milk instead of his thermos.

He sighed as he helped her through the garage door and into his SUV. This time, he was going to be able to enjoy all the fun stuff with the babies and none of the soul crushing duties that came with being the parents of triplets. This really might not be so bad after all, he realized as he carefully closed her door.

“I’m fine. Really,” the little fibber said as he climbed in the car.

“And the contractions?” he asked, cocking a brow as he waited for her latest line of bullshit that she was going to use to try getting out to of going to the hospital, because she was determined to put off pushing three babies from her body until it was absolutely necessary.

Not that he could blame her, because he really couldn’t, but it had to be done and they both knew it.

“They’re just stomach cramps from working out,” she bit out.

“Working out?” he asked, wondering if she was referring to the times when she had to wiggle, shimmy and roll to her side to get off the couch.

“Yes! Working out!” she snapped a bit angrily as she glared at him, getting that look in her eye that she always got just before she gave birth.

She wanted to go for his balls.

Great, he thought dryly as he started the car and pulled out of the garage. This was just what he needed today, he thought just as the screaming began…

*-*-*-*

“Would you stop screaming so I can focus?” Duncan snapped, when the selfish bastard let out another bloodcurdling scream.

“My hand’s broken, you insensitive bastard!” Trevor bitched as Zoe, who was trying to breathe through the next contraction, tightened her grip around Trevor’s disturbingly swollen and bruised hand and tried to bite back a scream.




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