There are so many boxes. Everything from panty looking diapers to teeny tiny things folded in half. "Babe."I know she hears how overwhelmed I am. "Relax. I know it's a lot to take in. You're looking for a green box.""Green box. Okay. Looking for a green box." I start searching the shelves for anything that looks green."Inside the green box is a bunch of yellow packages.""I have to open up all the green boxes?""No, babe. You can see the yellow packages through the plastic window on the box."That makes more sense. "Okay. Green box. Yellow packages.""It's called Always Infinity.""I'm still looking for a green box. I can't see what it's called…" Suddenly, it's in my hand. A woman, probably in her early forties, pats me on the arm."Pretty sure this is what she's asking you for," she says with a smile."Let me double check. Babe, someone just handed me a box. It's green, I can see yellow packages inside. It's called Always Infinity, size… uh… regular? Is that right?""That's exactl
The pop of a comb on my head jars me awake."Ow!" I cry. "What'd you do that for?""You keep falling asleep in my chair," Quincy quips. "Makes it impossible to get this color done right if your head keeps bobbing.""Sorry. I don't know what my problem is," I admit. "I can't seem to get enough sleep lately.""It's all those late-night romps with your lover," Geni sing-songs."Geni! You have a client!" Quincy admonishes."So?" She holds up her first finger for us to give her a minute. "John," she says to the client sitting in her chair. "Are you even listening to what I say?""Nope." He doesn't look up from his phone. "I've got three daughters and a wife. I know how to tune you guys out."Geni makes an "I told you so" gesture. "Anyway, like I was saying. You'll probably feel better once you get out of this newlywed phase.""Please," I argue. "I've been so sick lately, there has been no newlywed phase.""You're gonna try to convince me you aren't having sex at least once every night."I p
I gasp."No!" Geni cries out, hand over her mouth. "Are you sure?""Yep. It's a done deal.""To where?" Geni demands. "Please tell me it's somewhere terrible.""Vancouver, I think? Maybe Montreal. I can't remember. Somewhere in Canada."Geni throws her head back and begins cracking up. "That is the exact opposite of the weather here," I say with a smile on my face. "I bet Jessica is pissed."There is no love lost between Nate's wife, Jessica Funderling, and me. She attacked me in the family box during a game last year when she was drunk. It bruised my ego more than anything, but it got her banned from attending events on the team's dime again. Knowing she's leaving doesn't make me upset at all."Poor Jessica," Geni spouts with a sarcastic pout. "No more too-short mini-skirts, halter tops, and strappy sandals for her. Just snow suits and giant hoods over her head.""Don't forget the ski masks and scarves," I chime in."I bet she is shitting her pants right now," Geni continues."Guys,"
Rubbing my face, I look around the room trying to get my bearings straight. Something woke me up and, judging by the sound of Tiffany coming around the corner, I assume it was her closing the front door."Hey, babe," I say, as I sit up, leaning against the arm of the couch. "How was work?"She drops her bag next to the couch, shoes already gone. She's so tiny compared to me that she's able to squeeze herself between my legs and the back of the couch, and I'm still not close to falling off the edge. Somehow, her feet end up on my lap, so I begin digging my thumb into her arches.She groans in pleasure. "How did you know I was going to need my feet rubbed tonight?""Lucky guess," I shrug. "Your hair looks nice.""Thanks. Quincy added highlights.""They look good. How was work?""Same as always. I take it you didn't watch the show?"I flinch. When she's at work, I try to watch the sports segment. She watches all my games, why wouldn't I support her the same way? "I'm sorry, babe. I fell a
She quirks an eyebrow at me. "Is it something kinky?"I smack her ass playfully and pick her up to drop her back on the couch. "Dirty girl. No. I wanna call my parents.""What? You realize it's after midnight in Detroit, right?""You realize my mam would kill me if I didn't tell her right away, don't you?""Touché. But why call them when you can just FaceTime?" "Good idea." I grab for my laptop on the end table and switch it on."I was being sarcastic.""I know. But it was still a good idea." The computer whirs to life, and I begin pulling up the contact information. "Man, I wish I knew how to record FaceTime calls. I bet this is one I'm gonna want to watch again tomorrow."I settle in next to Tiffany and she rests her head on my shoulder, as the call goes through. Within seconds, my mother's face pops up on the screen, concern etched all over her face. She's obviously in bed, reading glasses on, the glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the screen."Rowen? Is everything okay?""Yeah,
The gynecologist office is not my idea of a good time. But I'm pretty sure that's a given for anybody. The room is always too cold. The flimsy gowns are always too small. And there's no way to hide your butt crack from anyone who opens the door.Plus, I hate the crinkly paper on the exam table. For whatever reason, the sound is like nails on a chalkboard to me. Thankfully, I'm sitting on one of those puppy pad things, so I don't feel the paper on my naked ass too.Rowen, of course, is sitting in the one chair that fits in the room, the lucky bastard, while I sit as still as I can trying not to move the crinkly paper. It's making my back hurt, but I'll take the lesser of two evils."What's wrong?" he asks, long legs stretched out across the floor."Nothing. Why?""You look really nervous." I shoot him a puzzled look. "You're completely stiff.""Oh. That. I'm trying not to make the paper move.""Why?""I hate the way it sounds. It grates on my nerves and makes me want to stab my ear drum
"Yes," he says in a rush. "We don't have to go. It's not a big deal.""Yes, it is. I know how team politics go. You need to show up, play nice, and pretend to give a shit so on Monday, you're not the guy who didn't show.""Yeah," he exhales, relieved that I understand why he's conflicted.I stretch my back and think for a minute before saying, "I think we should both go.""You do?" The amount of surprise on his face is almost comical."Look, I hate the idea of pretending to give a shit that they're moving to Canada or wherever, but it won't kill us to play nice for the sake of the team.""I hate taking you back into that environment. After everything…""Rowen, stop," I interrupt. "Yes, it will be a little uncomfortable. But I'm assuming Daniel and Quincy will be there, right?"One of his shoulder raises like he assumes so but doesn't know for sure."I'll hang out with her. We'll stay for an hour and then ditch them for some takeout on our way home. But be forewarned, if that bitch Jess
"I can't believe we're doing this," I grumble, the sounds of what is obviously an over-the-top party already making me itchy, and we're not even to the front door yet. Makes me wonder what all the neighbors are thinking and when they'll be calling the cops.Nate Funderling and his giant ego bought an overpriced condo a couple of years ago, right near Memorial Drive. Knowing what professional soccer players make, I know it was way over his budget, and I've always wondered how he was able to buy it in the first place. Now that he's moving to Timbuktu, instead of selling it, he's renting it out. My guess is he'll be upside down on the mortgage if he doesn't hold on to it for a while longer. Because he's a dumb ass. So instead of being able to unload it, he's renting it to… hell I don't know who he's renting it to, nor do I care. I stopped interacting with most of my teammates beyond necessary team conversation after several of them participated in publicly humiliating Tiffany.Posting a
The snick of the lock unlatching when I wave my key fob in front of the door is the first real sign that life is going back to normal. Well, as normal as life can be after a new little human has come into the world. But as I step through the door and into the newsroom, I realize nothing has changed. The scanners are still squawking. Reporters are still making calls and typing. Televisions still glow with every local station and CNN ready to be monitored. The only difference is the person at the assignment desk."Hi Tom," I greet as I grab a huge stack of mail I'll need to sort through upstairs. There's too much to go through down here."Tiffany." He tips his head at me and goes back to his business. Tom took over for Caleb when he moved upstairs. He's a little older than everyone else in the newsroom. His hair and neatly trimmed beard are almost gray. He's pleasant enough, just sticks to himself. We definitely don't have the same kind of rapport Caleb and I use to have.That also mean
Rowen makes sure we're all settled before kissing me on the top of the head and throwing on his sweats. "What do you want to eat? My mam brought bangers and mash.""I'll leave that for you," I joke, knowing it's his favorite. "But do we still have any of that grilled chicken salad? I don't know why but it sounds really good.""Yep. I'll go grab it for you."The last three months have been an adjustment, but overall, it's gone really well. Cace is a great baby, but I didn't expect anything less with him being Rowen's child. Well, that's not exactly true. A part of me always remembered Ryan is his grandfather, so I know there's some ornery in there waiting to come out. But for the most part, he's very docile. Cries when he's hungry, fusses when he's wet, but otherwise even-tempered. And my in-laws have been wonderful. Sure, the men argue all the time about the safest way to hold the baby or the best cleaning products. Denise and I just laugh at the ridiculousness and let them hash it ou
"Keep doing that," I moan, grabbing Rowen's hair and pulling him closer to my core. His tongue still does magical things to my lady parts and today, he's going to town. Licking, nipping, and sucking as he inserts two fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot. "Oh, that's it. Right there… ohgod…"My orgasm hits me fast and hard, just the way I like it these days. He continues to suck on my clit as the waves overtake me, riding me to that sated feeling I love. But he's not done yet.As soon as I've come back down to earth, he kisses up my body, paying special attention to the scar that now mars my abdomen. When I look at my stomach, I see flabby skin that hasn't tightened up yet and a knife wound. But Rowen tells me it's beautiful. That it's a reminder of the sacrifice I made to give him the best gift he's ever received - our son. Coming from anyone else, I'd say they were full of shit. But coming from Rowen, I know he means every word. Because of it, I still feel beautiful. It al
"I know you'll be here when you can, Mom," I say through FaceTime on my phone. "Really, all we're going to do for the next few weeks is sleep and eat anyway. Maybe bathe."Stroking the top of my son's head, I watch as he suckles on my breast. Yes, the dull pain of breastfeeding is there, but that doesn't take away the surreal feeling of being a new mom. It's amazing."I know." My mom sighs. "I'm just mad at myself. Of all the times to fall down some steps and break an ankle, this is the worst."I giggle lightly. "I still can't believe you did it at the gym.""And right after my kickboxing class too! I had just shown everyone what a badass I am, and three steps took me out.""Any muggers with ill intentions better beware of running into you in a back alley. Unless there are stairs involved." "Well, hopefully in the next few weeks, the doctor will clear me for travel. Then I'll be on the first plane there.""Sounds good to me." Baby Cace squeaks and pulls away from my breast, nuzzling h
The thoughts are overwhelming. I've never been this happy in my life, and I've only seen him for a split second. Lifting my head, I look around trying to catch another glimpse. Apparently, I'm not as subtle as I think I am."Would you like to see your son? You can go over there."Nodding, I stand up and follow the person over to a small table where my son is lying down, clearly unhappy by being poked and prodded. I don't blame him. I wouldn't like if all my glory was on display in front of these strangers either."Can I… can I touch him?" I ask tentatively, not sure what I'm allowed to do right now."Absolutely," the person says. "And talk to him. Babies like familiar voices."Slowly, I get closer, still in awe that I'm looking at my son. My son. It feels like I'm walking through a dream. Reaching down, I touch his tiny hand which immediately stretches and grabs my finger. The contact makes me suck in a breath. He's real. This is real. It's not a dream at all."Hello there, mo mhac. I'
I have dreamed about this day for months. Thought about every scenario on how it could happen. Planned for any situation. Prepared myself in every possible way.Except this one.Not one part of me anticipated I'd be standing in the hallway of the hospital wearing drab green scrubs with a matching surgical cap, waiting to join my wife in an operating room. And yet here I am, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more nervous than I've ever been in my life.It's not just the operation. Yes, that is my immediate concern. As much as I like Dr. Hermann, he's getting ready to cut Tiffany open and pull our son out through a gaping wound. I'm sure there's more to it than that, but it basically boils down to that, and it's scary. What if he cuts the wrong part and he can't stop the bleeding? What if he accidentally cuts my child? What if she gets a major infection? The horrific possibilities are terrifying.Taking a breath to refocus my thoughts, I try to remember all the positives. Tiffany won't
I can practically feel his surprise when he shifts, situating us face-to-face. Thankfully, my doctor and my father-in-law have started chatting again, so Rowen and I can have some privacy. "Tiffany, this is just a change in the play. You of all people know how easily it can happen. I know this isn't soccer, but it's not that different. We go into every match with a plan, but sometimes it doesn't go like we expected. There's an injury or a new goalie." I smirk at his reference to the issues the team had early in the season. "The objective is always the same, but how we get there doesn't matter as long as we do. It's the same thing here. It doesn't matter how he gets here as much as it matters that it happens safely for both of you."I sniff again, but my tears have all but dried up. "We've been deflected."He nods and smiles at me. "Exactly. It's a change of play. But in the end, when we're holding him and taking care of him, we'll forget about everything except that we won."I chuckle
A low murmuring pulls me from sleep. I know it's only been a couple hours, but I feel so much better than I did. Damn that epidural for being as amazing as everyone said it would be.Peeling my eyes open, I roll slightly onto my back to see Dr. Hermann and Ryan chatting like old friends. A few seconds of eavesdropping and I finally catch the source of their newfound connection - Ireland. Apparently, Dr. Hermann spent a summer backpacking through Europe and caught a couple games when Ryan was in his prime and playing in front of his hometown fans. I'm sure the tales are tall right now, but at least their relaxed chatter means nothing wrong is happening on my side of the room.Glancing around, I finally catch sight of my husband who is sleeping soundly. I'm glad to see him getting some rest. He's been trying so hard to be strong for me. It's not gone unnoticed. But at last count he'd been awake for thirty hours. It was wearing on him."Ah, iníon sa dlí, yer awake."Ryan steps toward me a
Another eight hours. Another one centimeter dilated. Almost. I may be rounding up out of my own feeling of desperation. This entire experience is not at all like I expected. Not that I knew what was supposed to happen. Sure, we'd taken a birthing class one Saturday, but that was months ago when our schedules allowed us both to be there. And it never told us what would happen if Tiffany's body refused to do what it should. At least Tiffany's sleeping now. About four hours after the Pitocin began, she started crying, saying she couldn't do it anymore. She'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours and had been in some form of labor for over half of it. Plus, once the drugs kicked in, her contractions went from being painful to downright excruciating. It didn't take much convincing for her to finally decide to have the epidural. But it did take my Mam physically moving me out of the way to help her through all her fears - fear of a needle in her spine, fear of the drugs hurting the baby,