Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Kat grips my hand. She’s shaking violently. “I’m done,” she says meekly. “I can’t do any more. Knock me out, Doc. Stuff her back up inside me and cut her out. I don’t care. Do whatever you have to do. I quit.”
I stroke Kat’s beautiful cheek. “You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘quit.’”
“Yes, I do,” Kat whimpers. “I’m not a beast—I want my mommy.” She bursts into tears.
“Your mommy’s coming as fast as she can. Everyone’s on their way, baby. It just happened too fast for them to get here in time.”
“I’ve change my mind. I don’t want a baby, after all. Stuff her back in!” she cries. “Make her go away!”
I laugh, even though I shouldn’t.
“Here we go,” Dr. Gupta says calmly, looking at the monitor next to Kat. “You’re gonna push with this next contraction, Kat—one more big push and this baby will be out and you’ll be a mommy. Come on.”
Kat whimpers pathetically again.
I squeeze Kat’s hand. “Come on, baby. Dig deep.”
“You dig deep, motherfucker,” she says, making me chuckle, but, immediately, she bears down, as instructed, grunting loudly with her effort, and not more than twenty seconds later, a tiny, pink angel pops out from between my wife’s legs, shrieking like I just woke her up from an afternoon nap in front of the TV by shouting “Boo!”
And, just like that, my heart is no longer inside my body.
My cheeks are absolutely soaking wet.
And I’m exactly the man—the husband and father—I was always meant to be.
Forty-Five
Josh
“Babe! Get in here!” Kat shrieks. “They just introduced him!”
I throw on a pair of briefs, race out of the bathroom still wet from my shower, and leap onto the bed next to Kat, careful not to crush Gracie’s blonde head as she sleeps at Kat’s breast.
“There he is!” Kat shrieks, pointing with excitement at the TV.
I look at the television screen and, I’ll be damned, yep, there he is: Will “2Real” Riley, holding a microphone and launching into a beastly performance of his monster hip-hop hit, “Crash” on Saturday Night Live. “Oh my God!” Kat shrieks. “Look at him! He’s killing it!”
“I feel electrified just watching him,” I say. “I can’t imagine how he must feel.”
“Did you know Will was this amazing?”
“I had no idea,” I say. “He was so funny and chill when we hung out with him. Who knew?”
“I guess we were hanging out with Will, not ‘2Real,’ huh?” Kat says.
“Indubitably,” I say.
We sit and watch Will’s entire performance, completely mesmerized, and when it’s over, we cheer and clap like we’re sitting in the live audience.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and quickly shoot a text to Reed. “Just watched your boy on SNL,” I write. “HE KILLED IT. Tell him congrats from Mr. and Mrs. Faraday and Little G.” I put my phone back on the nightstand. “Jesus, between 2Real and Red Card Riot this past year, Reed’s absolutely slaying it.”
“God, I sure hope his streak continues into next year when Daxy’s album comes out,” Kat says.
“Reed sure thinks it will. He told me just the other day he smells a smash hit.”
“Which song?”
“Reed predicts ‘People Like You and Me’ will be the break-out first single.”
“That’s my favorite, too,” Kat says.
Out of nowhere, Gracie busts out with an ear-piercing wail.
“Oh my goodness, little lady,” Kat says, opening a flap on her nursing nightgown and pulling out her engorged boob. “No need to scream, for crying out loud. I’m right here.” She sticks Gracie on her nipple and Gracie immediately latches on and starts gulping down milk in hungry swallows. “Wowza, can this kid eat,” Kat says, looking down at Gracie’s little face.
I lay my palm on the top of Gracie’s soft head as she suckles and stroke her white-blonde peach fuzz. “She’s passionate about eating, that’s for sure,” I say softly. “Aren’t you, my little angel?”
Kat rolls her eyes. “Don’t kid yourself by calling her an angel. We both know she’s a demon spawn disguised as an angel.”
“No. She’s just passionate, like I say—she simply knows what she wants. Nothing wrong with that.” I continue gently stroking Gracie’s soft head. “Isn’t that right, Mademoiselle Terrorist? You’re just assertive, that’s all.”
Kat looks down at Gracie’s face as she nurses. “Mark my words, she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, I’m telling you, babe. She’s gonna be bossing you around in no time.”
“Good. I’ve always liked ’em sassy,” I say. “Don’t worry, I know just how to handle her.”
We share a smile.
“So what do you wanna do for your birthday in a couple weeks, honey?” Kat asks. “After three months of being marooned in Babyville, are you in the mood to break out of our baby-bondage and paint the town red?”
I lean down and nuzzle my nose into Gracie’s soft hair for a long moment, breathing in her scent. “Not really,” I say softly. “I’m happy to stay home this year. Why don’t we do the romantic-dinner-thing I’d originally planned for the night you poker-chipped me with Bridgette?”