Holiday Heat Wave Page 9

  She ran to the master bathroom, leaving Tate and I behind on the bed.

  “Is Mommy gonna be okay?” Tate asked.

  “She’ll be fine,” I said, sweeping my legs out onto the ground. “I’m going to check on her though.”

  I knocked on the bathroom door. When Andrea didn’t respond, I pushed through.

  “Hey baby, just wanted to make sure you were…”

  She knelt on the ground, paying homage to the porcelain god. “Damn honey. You’re still sick.”

  “No, it’s not that,” she responded. “You were right.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her as I squatted down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “What do you mean, I was right? About what?”

  “My boobs are getting bigger.”

  I stared at Andrea with my jaw wide open. “Baby, I don’t understand. Why are you admitting that now?”

  A slow, sly grin spread across her entire face. She put her hand on her stomach, then glanced back up at me. “I’m pregnant.”

  “You are?!”

  “I have morning sickness. It’s not the flu.”

  “Oh my God!”

  She stood up and we hugged deeply and tightly. I pulled her body into mine, wanting her to be closer to me somehow, even though there wasn’t a sliver of space between us. I pulled her hard but at the same time felt gentle, conscious of what she was carrying in her womb.

  I heard Tate’s footsteps creeping toward the bathroom. He creaked the door open, and my heart lurched when I saw what Tate had in his hand.

  “Hey Mommy,” Tate said, holding up the black lace that’d I’d bought for Andrea. “You forgot to put away the bathing suit Daddy got you.”

  I looked up at the little guy holding the black two piece in his hand. Andrea and I locked eyes. Once the laughter started, there was no stopping it.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  Andrea and eye made eye contact, and that was all I needed. We were starting to get really good at the non verbal communication. She needed to be alone right now.

  “Tate, let me take that,” I said, rubbing the little squirt’s mop of hair. “Let’s you and me head into the dining room and have some breakfast, shall we?”

  He was eight. That was old enough for the birds and the bees talk, right?

  “Hey Jacob!” Andrea yelled before I was fully out of the room. I noticed she had just gurgled some mouthwash and spit it out.

  Jacob. Why did she keep calling me that. “What?”

  “I just wanted to say…thanks, King.”

  I scrunched my brow. “King?” She walked up to me. Tate looked up at the action happening between us.

  She kissed my cheek, and whispered in my ear. “I found the answer. It’s Yes, we are together in alternate realities.”

  I grabbed her waist and looked into her eyes. “Queen Andrea, sometimes I don’t even totally effing comprehend you, and I’m okay with that.”

  I planted a solid kiss on her, fully aware that Tate was standing right next to us.

  “Ewww!” Tate recoiled. “Why did you do that, Daddy?”

  We hadn’t kissed a ton in front of the boy, so I wasn’t shocked at his reaction. “Tate, it’s time you learned, sometimes, when you love a girl, you have to kiss her good.”

  Tate’s jaw dropped. “Really? Like every girl?”

  Andrea jabbed me in the abs. Why was this kid the one who kept me on my toes more than anyone? “Uh, well, no. Only if she’s your queen.” I smiled, satisfied with my explanation.

  Tate looked at me, then looked at Andrea.

  “I gotta start looking for my queen then.”

  “How about we open some presents first?” I arched an eyebrow. Maybe I would wait one more year or so until having this talk with him.

  “Yeah! Presents.”

  Tate ran into the living room and Andrea and I followed.

  I brushed her hair behind her ear, leaned in, and whispered. “By the way, this queen is getting some very queenly treatment as soon as the prince passes out for his nap this afternoon.”

  She looked back at me with her blue eyes sparkling like diamonds. “So is the King.”

  THE END

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  Mickey Miller