Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 80391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
We all starred in horror, as the patrons around us ate their dinners, completely oblivious.
“What do we do?” Baylee gasped in dread.
“Take her outside to the truck. I have a couple liters of Coke in the back.” Kettle offered, surprising everyone.
It wasn’t that he suggested pouring gallons of coke to wash the shit off a toddler. It was that he even had a suggestion in the first place. Kettle was the epitome of non-helpfulness when it came to child rearing. He was the ‘cool’ guy when it came to all the kids he was around. Didn’t want to do something? Go find Kettle. He won’t make you.
“I can’t say that Coke would be the first thing I’d like to use, but it’ll work for now. I have some baby wipes to wipe off the stickiness once we get her hosed down.” Baylee nodded as she stood.
When she reached down to grab Blaise, she stopped, looking around the area for the best place to put her hands without actually touching any shit.
She finally settled on the straps to her overalls and lifted her.
Baylee was the first to leave, followed shortly by Sebastian, and then it was my turn to try to un-beach myself from the booth. Luckily, I got it on the first try, all the while Kettle laughed behind me.
“You’re such a shit head.” I said to Kettle.
Kettle ignored my comment and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Grabbing the nearest waiter’s attention, he told her to bag our food and keep the change as he handed over a hundred dollar bill.
“We’ll be in the parking lot, just send it on out when it’s ready, please.” He instructed as he walked up to my back and then grabbed my hand.
“Mrs. Spada!” A screechy teenage voice yelled from my side, startling the ever-loving shit out of me.
Sighing, I turned and found Amanda, one of my students, facing me. She was wearing her Benton Bulldogs cheerleading uniform, and she had her hair so tight on her head that it looked painful.
“Amanda,” I said smiling at the girl. “How was the game?”
“Oh, it was great! You should’ve seen it! Jimmy Lee scored in the last fifteen seconds of the game, tying his all-time record. Then Boomer...” Amanda droned on.
I didn’t listen though, because a contraction hit me out of nowhere, nearly stealing my knees out from under me.
Kettle’s eyes narrowed on me as he took in my sweating brow, the hand clutching my stomach, and the claws I currently had sunk into Kettle’s left forearm.
“Contraction?” Kettle asked in concern.
“Yes,” I panted as the pain ebbed, allowing me to breathe once again. “Jesus, these Braxton Hicks ain’t no joke!”
I had already been to the hospital twice in the last two days, and both times, they’d sent me home because I wasn’t experiencing real contractions, but Braxton Hicks.
If these were the fake contractions, they’d have to be administering that epidural at the check-in desk. I’d already threatened Kettle with a gelding if he got me knocked up again. There was no way in hell I could go through this twice. The last nine months had been pure hell.
Morning sickness. Motion sickness. Light sickness. Husband moaning sickness. Anything I could have, I did. Gall bladder attacks. Kidney stones. Allergic reactions to something I’d never been allergic to before. You name it I had it.
And don’t even get me started on the fucking stretch marks and how my body no longer responded to my will. I’d peed on myself more times from sneezing in the past nine months than I had my entire thirty years of life.
Pregnancy really had a way of making you humble.
“Alright, well if they get worse or closer together, let me know. It was nice seeing you Heather.” Kettle said absently.
“Amanda,” she corrected, not caring in the least that Kettle had called her by the wrong name.
“Sorry, Angela. Have a good rest of your day.” He said before pulling me by my hand out the door.
I got a wave in just before the doors closed. “Tiago, you butt head. You damn well knew her name!” I absently slapped him on the ass.
He grinned at me. “Yeah, so?”
I rolled my eyes, and then laughed as I came up on the scene going on in the back of Kettle’s truck.
“Hey! You guys better be taking my truck to the car wash tomorrow!” He yelled as we came to a stop beside Baylee who had a hold of Blaise’s hands.
“Is it working?” I asked.
Baylee snorted. “Yeah, it surprisingly works better than a shower. Why do you have so many cokes in your truck, Kettle?"
Sebastian moved into the bed of the truck as he poured yet another bottle of Coke onto Blaise’s back and answered the question. “Kettle has a craving for Coke. He doesn’t like to run out.”
I would’ve replied, but the wind picked up, blowing sand through the air, which I inevitably inhaled.
Then sneezed.
Then promptly peed all over myself.
“Mother fucker!” I yelled as my hand went down to my crotch.
I held on for dear life as I crossed my legs. “It won’t stop!” I yelled as it continued to pour down my legs. “Oh, my God! It’s like a waterfall. What do I do? What do I do?”
At the time, I didn’t find it the least bit funny.
There I was, standing in the middle of a packed Chili’s parking lot, while I watched two of my best friends in the world pour Coke over their child, all the while I leaked all over my clothes, Kettle’s boots, pants, and the side walk.
It wasn’t until Kettle grabbed my face and made me look into his big blue eyes that I finally calmed down enough to realize that no woman in the world could hold that much pee, let alone a pregnant woman who had a bladder the size of a shot glass.
“I think my water broke,” I whimpered fervently.
Kettle nodded, eyes serious, as he put his hand to my tummy. “Any contractions?” He asked as he looked down at my belly, and then further to my legs.