The Knocked Up Plan(51)

“Me, too. But seriously. This drink is the bomb.”

“I looked up how to treat morning sickness. I figured you had tried most things, but it couldn’t hurt to send reinforcements.”

“I do feel better now. And I plan to dive into the crackers later. And the ginger ale.”

That’s all I can ask for. “I’m glad to hear that.” I raise my gaze to the sky. “Looks like snow is coming tonight.”

“I love snow in Manhattan when it’s falling. It’s so peaceful,” she says as Romeo sniffs a bush by the stoop of a brick building.

“Me, too. It’s the one thing that transforms New York entirely. It’s like this blanket of white, and the whole city is hushed as it comes down.”

“One of my favorite things is waking up in the middle of the night as the snow falls. You look out the window and New York has become an idyllic snow village where everything is soft and white, before the city wakes up.” She sighs dreamily.

I crane my gaze heavenward. “I think you’ll get that tonight, Nicole.”

“I want it tonight, and if I’m allowed to be greedy, I’d like a white Christmas, too. Preferably, one without any Christmas morning, Christmas day, or Christmas night sickness.”

I laugh lightly. “I’ll ask Santa to bring that to you. Seems you’ve been a good girl this year, and you deserve it.” I turn the corner onto my block. “What are you doing for the holidays?”

“I’ll go to my mom’s. My brother will be in town, so he’ll want to spend most of the holiday making fun of me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He’s a big brother. It’s in his DNA. Plus, he now gets to make pregnancy jokes nonstop.”

For a moment, I wish she’d invite me to join her. Not because I want to hear pregnancy jokes, but because I want to be the guy who gets to defend her and volley back, maybe even say something a little off-color about how I got her that way. I want her family to know the pregnancy jokes are because of me. Yeah, they know I gave her the DNA and all that jazz, but they don’t know me.

Though, I thought I knew Maggie, but it turned out I didn’t know her at all. I might have met her family, might have made jokes with them, but in the end, none of that saved me from the hurt.

I don’t bother inviting myself over.

“What about you?” she asks.

“I’m going skiing with Devon, Paul, and Simone, and our sister Claire, who’ll be in this neck of the woods for the holidays.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“We try to go every year.”

“Lots of snow bunnies probably,” she says, her tone tight, and I detect a note of jealousy in her voice.

“I doubt there will be any snow bunnies.”

“I think if we were taking bets, I’d win this one.”

I’m about to dispel that notion when she groans. “Are you feeling sick again?”

Ask me over. Ask me to help. I’ll do it.

“No. Ruby is pacing. She has to go out. And it’s late and cold.”

I could offer to walk her dog right now. But she’s sixty blocks away, and the dog only needs to whiz. If I offer to haul ass uptown for a five-minute pee break, that’d sound like I didn’t pay attention to the contract I signed. No commitments.

I don’t make the offer. But I offer the grape Gatorade equivalent. “If I were there, I’d walk her for you.”

“If you were here, I’d take you up on that.”

When we hang up, I’m standing in front of my building, holding my keys with the tadpole charm, wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do about the whole no expectations part of the arrangement.

Right now, I want expectations.





Twenty-Seven





Nicole

I don’t erase the photos he sent me of the falling snow.

I don’t delete the ones he sent me a few days later when it snowed again.

And I don’t delete the pics he sent last night when it flurried, because the caption made me laugh. “It’s barely a blanket. More like a Saran Wrap of snow. But maybe you’ll have your white Christmas. May it be free of barf.”

On Christmas morning, my wish comes true.

Snow, and a peaceful belly.

Happy almost-end-of-the-first-trimester to me.

My appetite is back, too, and its timing couldn’t be better since my mom made us chocolate chip pancakes. Ruby and Lorenzo wait in the living room like good little Christmas elves as we eat in the kitchen. My mother’s gentleman caller, James, will join us shortly.

My brother, Aiden, digs in then points at me with his fork. “No more morning sickness?”

I twist my index and middle fingers together. “Seems that way.”

He chews then stares at me with his intense green eyes. He has our father’s eyes. “Ever thought about what it would be like if men were the ones who got pregnant?”

Our mom answers right away. “Maternity leave would last for two years with full pay, for one thing.” She reaches for her orange juice. No Bluetooth today. Even hardworking brokers take Christmas off.

Christmas music plays from her sound system. “Let it Snow.” It’s the perfect soundtrack for today. Her home smells of nutmeg and pine, and I want to spend the day savoring the scents that delight me once more.