I do a few stretches and go to my computer. I stare at the calendar just above it as the computer starts up. On the September page, the 29th is circled. That’s my due date, but the doctor gave me a window of anywhere in that week. When I first got the due date I thought it was so far away, but it’s only gotten closer and closer with increasing speed as the days pass. Time is, literally, flying by, and I’m half-excited and half-terrified. I know I’m ready. Or, I think I am. No one can actually be ready to have a small human being to care for, I think. But if I tell myself I’m ready, if I believe that with all my heart, I’ll definitely be fine. I’ll do fine. That’s what Mom says, anyway.
I open my email. Speak of the devil; Mom’s sent me four emails, all with weird cryptic titles like ‘For the one’, and ‘Good center’. She means well – she sends me links to child care websites and different doctors. She’s currently trying to convince me to see a hypnotist when I go into labor, but I’m a little skeptical. She’s still concerned I’m having the baby at home with a midwife – Lee’s aunt, an old Spanish woman who’s been birthing babies in the county for longer than any doctor at the nearby hospital’s been alive. Dad’s fine with it, as he always is – he trusts me and Lee’s judgment. Well, it was my idea to begin with, and Lee fought it every step of the way, but I managed to convince him a home birth was best for us. Peace and quiet. I want our baby to be born in the comfort of home, to feel safe from the second it comes out into the world.
I click the email from the hospital. I still go there for checkups, of course. I read the email quickly, and feel a smile tug at my lips. We haven’t asked what the gender is, because Lee wants it to be a surprise. But I couldn’t help myself – I had to know. I asked the doctor, and he sent ahead the email privately. I can still pretend to be surprised, but at least now I know what names to start considering seriously.
A warm hand wraps around my stomach and squeezes lightly. I jump, giving a little yelp, and behind me Lee laughs. I punch his arm.
“You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry, sorry. Why are you even on this thing? Don’t you know exposure to the Internet in the womb causes infants to become huge nerds later in life?”
I hit him again, and this time he grabs my hand with his own and uses his other to pull my chin up, kissing me. I run my tongue over his, and he moans and backs up quickly.
“No. No, no, no – I’ve got to get to the pool before dark.”
“Please?” I pout. “Just a little?”
He sucks in a breath and leans in, kissing my ear. “As tempting as that proposition is, if I don’t get to the pool soon, Ricardo’s going to have my head. When I get home, I’ll make it up to you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he says, grasping my hand and kissing it, too. “I made casserole – it’s in the oven keeping warm. Eat some when you can.”
“Some? We’ll eat the whole thing.” I pat my belly.
“I know you will,” he laughs and hangs on the doorframe. “That’s why I made two.”
I chuck a pencil at him, but he just laughs louder and ducks away. He’s picked up swimming again – competitively. And while he’s not exactly Olympic material, he’s still really, really good. He’s been talking about coaching the local kids at the pool for a while, now, and I hope he does.
“You’re going to be a good swimmer,” I say, and pat my belly. There’s a tiny kick in response. “C’mon, don’t be like that. The water’s not so scary when you get used to it.”
My phone buzzes. I turn the computer off, and look at the text from Riley. He’s nearly graduated, and I couldn’t be more proud of him. He’s not with his old girlfriend, but he is growing in different ways. He’s more mature, now, if that’s even possible. And now that he knows he’s going to be an uncle, he’s practically as bad as Lee with giving me detailed baby facts and checking up on me constantly.
Did you know the average infant sleeps a million hours a day?
There aren’t a million hours in a day, Rile.
Did you know a baby’s sense of time is warped? To them every second feels like a million hours.
Now you’re just shitting me.
What gave it away?
I laugh. It’s a long while before he texts again, and I’ve almost fallen asleep on the bed when he does. I look at the phone, groggily.
So? Boy or girl?
I told you, we don’t know yet. We won’t until it’s born.
You’re a terrible ass liar. Always have been. I know you’ve snuck a peek!
I’m not going to give in.
LOL. Fineeee, you don’t have to tell me what it is. But at least tell me what its middle name is.
I look out the window. The middle name is the one thing that’s already set – Morgan saw to that.
Morgan.
Aw, what! That’s a gender neutral name! C’mon, give me a better clue!
How can someone be so sneaky and so impatient at the same time? Can’t you just wait like everyone else?
Are you kidding? I’m gonna be an uncle! It’s an uncle’s duty to make sure their niece and/or nephew’s name doesn’t suck total butt!
I sigh and roll over. The baby gives a little squirm, and I breathe slowly to let it know it know I’m not actually stressed – just amazed. I’m amazed I have so many people who love me, who care about me. The people who were strangers a year ago are now the dearest friends I could ask for. A year ago I would’ve never thought I’d be starting my own family. A year ago I’d never have thought I’d be in love. But I am.
I’m in love.
That might change. Things might change, as they always do. A year from now could be totally different, but that’s how life works. It never stops. It always keeps moving, and that movement brought me the greatest happiness I’ve ever known. Things might change. They will change. I’m living proof of that. We all are.
But right now, I’m in love. And somehow I know that won’t change at all.
Sugar Sparkle In The Morning does another lap in the pen, running just under my window. She stops, looks through the glass dead at me, and whinnies, rearing back on her hind legs. She’s excited. So am I. Terrified, but excited without a doubt.
I hold my stomach with one hand and text with the other.
James.
I smile.
James Morgan Montenegro.
Acknowledgments
~To the community – you guys have been amazing. I could not have finished this book without your encouragement in the form of FB comments, notes, and tweets. You are all amazing, and thank you so much for welcoming me with such warm arms into the world of new adult and romance in general.
~To the reader; you are the reason I wrote this. Thank you for all your support, love, and time.
About the Author
Sara Wolf is the author of ARRANGED, a college-aged romance centered on an arranged marriage. She’s currently working on her next New Adult series. She’s addicted to the Vampire Diaries, loves chocolate and romantic angst, and can’t get enough of damaged heroes. For additional books, news, teasers, and giveaways, visit her at sarawolfbooks.blogspot.com or facebook.com/sara.wolf.3304
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Sara Wolf, Disarranged
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