Surprise Delivery(45)

Fourteen





Alexis





I didn’t know it was possible for a person to feel so disgustingly bloated. I feel like I’ve got a medicine ball tucked into my stomach. I look like it too. My due date is fast approaching and honestly, I can’t wait for it to get here already. I’m beyond ready to have this baby. Mostly so I can stop feeling like a bloated whale all day, every day. Being able to move around normally and without my belly bumping into everything would be great.

I’m excited to see my baby, of course, but I’m also terrified. Beyond terrified really. What kind of a mother am I going to be? I can barely take care of myself, how in the hell am I going to take care of a child too?

The partners at the firm were not happy to hear that I was pregnant – and by partners, I mean mostly Tyler. They were even less happy when I went out on maternity leave, rather than just quit and save them some money. I’m not making my full salary and things are even tighter than usual, but at least I still have an income. At least, for the moment.

Tyler has already made it clear that they will find a justification for not letting me have my job back, as the law requires them to do. He was subtle and indirect about it, but he pretty much said he’d find a way to fire me. If the other partners know what he’s up to, none of them are standing up for me. Not even Preston, which I find really disheartening. And even more terrifying.

What in the hell am I going to do if they find an excuse to get rid of me?

Sabrina and even Brad have tried to reassure me. They’ve done their best to keep me calm rather than focusing on that situation. They tell me there will be plenty of time to come up with a plan – though, given the maternity leave laws in this state, I’ll only have an eight-to ten-week window to come up with said plan. I understand why they’re trying to keep me calm though – stress isn’t good for the baby.

There’s a knock on the door and I groan to myself. The last thing I want to do is have to haul my butt up off the couch – it’s no small feat to accomplish these days. Thankfully, the door opens, and I hear Brad’s voice call out.

“Room service,” he says, his voice filled with good cheer.

“In the living room,” I call back. “Where else am I going to be anymore?”

His footsteps echo on the hardwood floor as he makes his way down the short corridor to the living room where I’m sitting on the couch with my hands resting on my belly. I haven’t yet changed out of my pajamas, my hair is sticking out in a million different directions, and I look like absolute garbage. Brad steps into the room and favors me with a wide smile.

“Looking good today,” he teases.

I laugh. “Shut up.”

He holds up a bag and it’s then that I smell the savory aroma of a greasy cheeseburger from Nick’s.

“Oh my God, you are amazing,” I sigh.

Brad shrugs. “Yeah, I know. I try to keep it from going to my head though.”

I laugh as he pops into the kitchen, grabs a couple of plates, a stack of napkins, then sits down and starts dishing out the food. The aroma filling the apartment is heavenly and my stomach grumbles in response. I wasn’t even all that hungry until I smelled the greasy goodness of a Nick’s cheeseburger.

“Thank you for feeding me,” I say.

“You are very welcome,” he replies.

Brad hands me my plate, then takes his and sits back on the recliner, taking a big bite of his burger. I have to say, despite my initial misgivings about him and my suspicions about his true motives, Brad has become a good friend to me. He’s been there every step of the way during my pregnancy, always encouraging me, always saying the right thing at the right time, and just being there to listen.

I still haven’t told him who the father of my baby is, but he’s hardly pressed me on it either. Which is a good thing, since that’s something I don’t really think is his business anyway. I know that sounds harsh, but for now, anyway, that’s going to remain my secret.

I honestly don’t know how I would be getting through this without both him and Sabrina. They’ve been my rocks when I’ve needed them most and I really can’t even begin to express just how grateful I am to them for everything they’ve done for me – and continue to do for me.

“So, you’re getting down to the wire,” Brad says. “Have you settled on names yet?”

I roll my eyes. “God, not yet.”

“You better get on that,” he laughs.

“It’s just tough. I mean, I want to give the baby their own unique little identity. Something special,” I say. “But, at the same time, I don’t want to give them one of those cracked out names people intentionally misspell just to make them different.”

“You know, Brad is always a good choice for a boy’s name,” he says. “It’s durable. Rugged. Manly, even.”

I laugh. “Brad, huh?”

He nods, grinning like a fool. “I have it on good authority it’s like, the best name ever. Women fall all over themselves for guys named Brad.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I laugh. “But, what it if it’s a girl?”

He shrugs. “I think Brad works for a girl too.”

I laugh and throw a French fry at him. “That’s awful.”