I have this important meeting today at the office so I'm hoping my pregnancy won't be the spotlight. My work should be, as always. I sometimes hate how I get special treatment just because I'm pregnant, or the fact this is my first baby after ten years. I'm not fragile, I'm just pregnant.
I mean, yeah, thank you for being sensitive. But I can work just fine. Stop asking me to go home when it's only 4. I'm capable to stay until late evening, just as I've been doing every Monday and Tuesday for the past seven months.
"You want me to be honest or to tell you pretty?"
I can't believe he had the audacity to joke like that when I'm all serious this morning.
He grins perhaps finally catching the invisible daggers I'm throwing through my eyes, "Of course you look pretty, Miss Evans."
Despite his cruel joke, I smile hearing his answer, "So I don't have to change anything?"
"Uhm yeah," he stops fiddling with the blender and looks at me again, "Your attitude."
I laugh at his snarky comeback, why do I feel like I just gained back my bitchy gay bestfriend whom I used to have when he was still married to Hugo Ortega?
"Here's your favorite smoothie," he puts a glass in front of me when I decided to play him back.
He frowns, because I know he spends at least fifteen minutes every day peeling those fruits to make a healthy smoothie that's indeed my favorite, "What do you mean? I made this for you."
"Well, I didn't ask you to."
"But you always drink this in the morning."
"Just a sip? At least a tiny sip? Like one drop sip? I made this for you," his eyes go to my tummy next, "for her."
"I don't feel like having it today."
He sighs, "Fine. I guess I can spit in this then?"
I try not to laugh, he's really taking this to his level, knowing me too well that this is just a prank, at the end of this I actually want to drink that smoothie.
"Hmmm maybe I should pee in it? I've always wondered what color will it turn into if I mix it with pee." That motherfucker shamelessly lowers down his sweatpants, knowing Nancy and Pao just went to the room to get dressed for school so they won't be coming out to see his soft penis.
I laugh seeing that thing, "For fuck's sake Owen!" And take the glass to secure it before he actually does it since the penis is already out.
He laughs like a maniac for calling my bluff, and both of us keep on laughing like two teenagers for the fact he's in his forties and I'm ten weeks away from giving birth to our third daughter.
Immature is what we are since we started being nice to each other again.
“Wait.” I sit up from my comfortable position and put my legs down to the floor instead of being stretched to the end of this couch stopping right on his lap.
“Hm?” His eyes are still on the tv, totally unbothered with the change of my body posture.
“I said pause goddamnit!” I’m already halfway to the bathroom, trying my best to contain my bladder before peeing myself in the hallway.
“Pause, Owen!” I shout before shutting the door since I still hear sounds from the movie. I promise I’m gonna make him watch that part again if he didn’t pause!
“I’m gonna buy you a pee bag tomorrow,” he says when I return to the couch. Thank goodness he did pause for me.
“Shut up and work your hands,” I order him as soon as I put my feet on his lap again, adjusting the throw blanket to cover my body while he sneaks his hands under it, getting to the task.
“Even the commercials stop every 15 minutes. You stop every 5 minutes to pee.”
“Hit play,” I order again, totally ignoring his comment, “And work the hands, I said.”
“I hope the other DNA has patience built-in in it,” He mutters before putting the movie back again, “Can’t handle three impatient girls at the same time. Fuck my life for this.”
I giggle seeing how annoyed he looked when he said it, but his hands are massaging my leg diligently. Last week he complained too, about his missing shirts since I’d rather wear his than buy a new one when I only have seven weeks left.
Despite all the complaints, he’s still here, staying with me full time, even on the days when it’s his turn or Hugo’s, because he doesn’t want me off his sight until I give birth. What happened five years ago traumatised us, and the last thing we want is for me to grasp for help during emergency. I said yes instantly when he offered, because I’m not willing to risk it too.
So right now I have a personal driver, chef, massager, stylist (the clothes), nanny, paramedic, bed warmer, everything just jumbled up into one Owen.
"I've been thinking..."
"We share this place among us three right."
"But I have this baby coming soon so I think, hm. When she's still a baby, sure, she can just sleep with me. But when she's older, like Pao, she needs to have her own room."
That gets his attention off the movie as he turns to me, "You're saying?"
"Maybe Pao can come to my place when it's my turn? Like sure, she can be here when she's with you or Hugo, but when-"
"I buy this place for her. Because we decided to co-parent, so she won't need to move around."
"But it isn't far. It takes like ten steps then she's home."
He's absolutely serious when he says it, "This is home."
"But this baby needs a place where she doesn't need to move around too."
"So you choose her over Pao?"
"What?" I can't believe we're arguing like two idiots now. And how dare he. To question my love for my daughters.
"I hate you sometimes." I'm too tired to argue so let's end it this way.
He sighs, trying to rectify the situation he suggests, "There's an extra room here, I don't see why is that a problem. You can just turn the guest room to be her room."
"But I'm here four days a week. That means I have to move her the remaining three days."
"So? Move here permanently."
"Oh yeah? How easy for you to say that. Pretty sure Hugo won't appreciate a crying newborn two nights a week, and so do you."
"I'll buy him ten earplugs, hell he can buy a million earplugs for all I care but this is not even a problem. Just move in. Permanently. The baby won't be crying forever. Hugo will be fine. He had six newborns."
Honestly, I don't wanna feel like I'm taking advantage of him. I'm already living in a place he bought, and have him pay for those overqualified nannies for Pao. There are a lot more but I don't wanna repeat it with this baby.
She's mine, and I'm not gonna let Owen pays for everything too.
“Honey,” he grabs the leg he’s massaging, “Follow what I say.”
“Just follow what I say. Com-”
I resign understanding what he’s trying to do and just follow his direction, “Com.”
“This is getting ridiculous. I’m not five!”
“Shh! Just follow me. Cay-”
“We agreed to work on our communication. So I’m reminding you right now. Com-mu-ni-ca-tion. And now I’m trying to communicate to you, that we are going to convert the guest room into the nursery. Okay?”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“I don’t mind you living here full-time. I’m sure Hugo don’t mind too. I’ll talk to him if you want me to?”
On Sunday afternoon, Hugo invited us to have lunch with him and Pao. It's lovely to spend the day with the four of us talking freely like it used to be when they were still married.
"I'll be moving back to Barcelona next year," Hugo begins when we're having our meal, "In June to be exact."
The two of us remain quiet though I'm surprised with this news. What about Pao?
"My sister's coming back that's why I'm going there. My kids are all there too so I thought it's time. It's time to go back to them."
He must have seen our faces when he says, "I'm sure Pao would be okay with just the two of you. I'm gonna miss my only daughter so much but I have to go back. But I do plan to have her with me during summer, if it's okay? Like not the whole summer but a bit longer, maybe a month in Barcelona with me?"
I'm fully aware about his five children coming here every summer to spend time with him, or for him to bring them anywhere for a vacation, so this request is actually something that I can see happening. Pao is afterall his daughter too.
But wait. What about the two days a week he has with Pao?