Coffee Stunts Growth: Nica

The blue-light of dawn spilled into the kitchen, marking the start of another school week. Poppy’s glitter-encrusted artwork covered the fridge. Riley sat at his desk in his alcove in the dining room while Cole cooked breakfast.

I nursed a lukewarm mug of coffee, trying to pretend I wasn’t nauseous while Poppy sat on the barstool next to me already talking at full volume.

“Leo said he didn’t get ice cream yesterday, because he bit his big sister at dinner time because she stole his chicken nugget,” Poppy explained.

“Is that so?” I asked, trying hard to sound like I was interested and not feeling a fresh wave of morning sickness.

Poppy nodded. “Yep. He said she didn’t get any either, but he got in more trouble for biting.”

“Well, biting is not a good thing,” Cole said, flipping a pancake in the skillet. “But neither is stealing either.”

“When we have a baby, will it bite me?” Poppy asked, sipping her apple juice.

“If,” I corrected immediately. We hadn’t actually broken the news to Poppy yet, and over breakfast while fighting the urge to throw up wasn’t really how I wanted to do it. “And no.”

“Maybe,” Cole had said at the same time.

I shot a glare at him while Poppy looked deeply concerned.

“Not on purpose. Not to be mean, at least,” Cole amended. “You bit your mom when you were a baby. You had gotten your first tooth, and teething hurts.”

“Is that why you called me ‘Piranha’ for so long?”

“It is,” I nodded.

“Did I hurt you when I bit you?”

“It did hurt,” I confirmed. “But you weren’t trying to hurt me.”

“That’s good… that I wasn’t trying to.”

Cole slid a pancake onto a plate and placed it in front of Poppy. “Eat up, kid. We need to leave in thirty.”

Poppy picked up her fork and cut into the pancake. After the first bite, she asked, “Can we invite my class to my birthday party?”

“The whole class?” Cole asked, looking at her with an expression that was almost pained. I knew he was thinking back to that first birthday party when her whole Growing Grace class was here. Twenty toddlers surrounding a mermaid storyteller wasn’t exactly something any of us wanted to repeat.

“I don’t know if the driveway can fit everyone,” I told her gently.

“Do we have to have the party here?” she asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

I hesitated.

“Where would we have it?” Riley questioned, sounding like he was saying it more to himself than to us as he stepped into the kitchen. “There’s nowhere cool to have parties around here anymore. They closed the skating rink years ago, the bowling alley is ridiculously overpriced, and the arcade is too far away.”

“The park,” Cole said flatly. “Or we could look into renting the community center.”

“Can we have it at a theater?” Poppy asked, a new burst of excitement perking her up as she voiced the idea.

“I don’t know about that, Pops. The only one local that does events is a little too expensive for a birthday party,” Cole said gently.

“I would run an excellent theater,” Riley claimed, straightening slightly.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t fight the way the corners of my mouth twitched upwards.

“You’d bankrupt a theater,” Cole muttered, plating another pancake.

Riley scoffed. “How dare you.” He leaned against the counter like he was already pitching investors. “I’d revive intermissions. People miss intermissions-“

“There was literally an intermission at Wicked,” Cole cut in.

“There would be themed cocktails in the lobby,” Riley continued, ignoring him.

“You’re describing Broadway in 1978,” I said.

“And? They had ambiance,” he defended. “Theaters today are cowards. There’s no sense of occasion.”

Cole snorted. “You’d make people dress formally. With dinner jackets.”

“What’s wrong with dressing up?”

Poppy gasped. “Can I wear a princess dress?”

“It would be mandatory,” Riley nodded. “And you’d get VIP access.”

She beamed like she’d just been given diplomatic immunity.

Cole slid another pancake onto a plate and handed it to me. He knew I’d barely eaten since yesterday and was trying not to gag on the smell of syrup. “You need to eat something,” he said quietly.

“I am.”

Poppy shoveled another bite into her mouth before asking. “Can the baby sleep in my room?”

The kitchen went silent for half a second too long. Cole coughed into his fist. Riley’s eyebrows shout up so fast they nearly disappeared into his hairline. I stared at Poppy. “What baby?”

“The baby you throw up about every morning,” she answered matter-of-factly.

“What?” I nearly choked on the word while Riley and Cole exchanged glances. “How do you know that’s what’s happening?”

“Because Chloe said her mommy did that every morning for a long time when they found out she was having a new baby.”

“You throw up every day?” Riley asked, looking vaguely horrified that I hadn’t filled him in on that detail.

“I didn’t realize I needed to issue community bulletins,” I scowled.

Poppy squinted at us suspiciously. “So there is a baby?”

Cole rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he was already smiling. “Well… surprise?”

Poppy’s mouth dropped open. Then she shrieked so loudly, Riley visibly flinched. “We’re getting a baby?”

“Indoor voice,” I warned automatically.

She stood on the stool, launching herself at me with a force that nearly tipped us backward. Riley reached out, steadying us while Poppy wrapped her little arms around me. I winced slightly from the impact.

Immediately, she pulled back with enormous guilty eyes. “Did I squish it?”

“Him,” Riley corrected absentmindedly.

“Her,” Cole countered.

“We literally do not know that yet,” I said.

“But did I squish the baby?” Poppy repeated.

“No, honey,” I assured her, smoothing a hand through her curls. “It’s okay.”

Her entire face lit up again. “When is the baby coming?”

“In the spring,” I answered.

“When daddy-Cole’s birthday is?”

I nodded. “Somewhere around there.”

“But that’s forever away.”

“It’ll go faster than you think,” Cole told her.

“It better not,” I muttered before I could stop myself. The words slipped out softer than I intended.

Cole looked at me immediately. Not because of what I said exactly, but because he knew what was underneath it. Fear. Not of the baby. Never that. Just… everything else.

Cole reached across the counter, covering my hand with his. Grounding me before I could spiral into my own head. “You okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded once.

“So the baby will be able to have birthday cake with daddy?” Poppy asked after another moment.

“Not quite,” I answered. “The baby will be too little for cake. But when it’s your birthday again, the baby can have some.”

Poppy considered that for a moment before nodding, accepting it. “Can I tell Mrs. Beasley?”

“Not yet,” I said quickly.

“Can I tell Chloe?”

“Also not yet.”

“What about Gigi?”

I sighed heavily. “We will, but not yet. We’re planning a special announcement for her and Papa, okay? You have to make sure you don’t tell them before we’re ready. Not even on accident.”

Poppy nodded, her curls bouncing. “You can count on me.”

“We can never count on you when it comes to secrets,” Cole laughed. “Remember mommy’s birthday secrets just a couple of weeks ago?”

“Those were accidents,” she defended.

“There can’t be any accidents,” I reiterated. “No matter what.”

“Can I help with the baby?” Poppy continued, not reassuring me about her ability to keep a secret at all.

“With some things,” I answered.

“I can read stories to it.”

“That would be very helpful.”

“You can read?” Riley asked.

Poppy scowled, clearly offended. “I’m learning.”

“By the time the baby is born, I’m sure you’ll be a great reader,” I smiled.

Poppy nodded. “I can teach colors and shapes.”