One of them was Luca’s to go with them, one of them was Sasha’s, and one of them was our new baby’s, all helpfully labeled by me.
As with the last pregnancy, we’d chosen not to find out the sex of the baby, wanting it to be a surprise when they came kicking and screaming into the world, so we had gender-neutral clothing for them in theirs. We’d also learned after Luca’s birth that both of our families had issues not buying everything they saw, so no doubt this baby would have an entire wardrobe within a week, anyway.
“I’d offer to help,” Ryan snickered, “but I’ve only got one arm.”
“You’re lying,” Sasha hissed, the birthing serpent rearing its head. This was something I’d been introduced to last time, and I’m not gonna lie, I can’t say I’d missed it.
“You’ve got the best prosthesis available that responds to what your muscles are doing. It’s almost like an AI limb.”
“Is it Alexa compatible?” Elijah asked seriously. “Most AI things are.”
“No, but it’s got an app that uploads software updates. Wanna see?” Ryan went to put Luca down so he could pull out his phone, but both son and mother lost it. My son wrapped his arms tightly around his grandad’s neck while Sasha chose to express her issues verbally.
“I’m about to squeeze a human being out of my vagina that’s the size of a pinprick,” she yelled, likely giving our neighbors a good laugh as the others winced.
“I don’t care if I can get Alexa to get your arm to slap you—” she stopped and bit her lip, and I looked at my watch to see how long it’d been since the last contraction.
It hadn’t been a contraction, though.
“Okay, yes, I want to try that when I get home,” Sasha conceded, “but right now, could you please shut the hell up while this baby tears me in half.”
Knowing that this was definitely another contraction, I looked down at my watch and noted the time.
“I make it one hundred and twenty-six seconds since the first one,” Benny muttered, shocking me. When he saw my expression, he shrugged a shoulder. “I read up on it.”
“Wanna go in with her and hold her hand while she squeezes this one out?” I said, only half joking.
I still had four crescent-shaped scars on the top of my hand and a larger one on the palm of it from when she’d had Luca. Ever since the doctor had told us the baby was moving into position perfectly, I’d been cutting and filing her nails every week to avoid needing stitches again if she went into labor.
The look on Benny’s face said he’d rather stick his dick between two bricks on a collision course.
Yeah, you and me both, man.
With his arms laden down with bags and a massive smile on his face, Sam came running back into the yard. “Let’s get going.”
Walking awkwardly past him, Sasha stopped and pointed at her dad’s face. “Stop smiling, or I’ll make you come in and watch every second.”
A pissed off meow came from one of the bags, and I noticed he’d put Milkshake in his carrier while he was inside. “You remember his helmet and glasses?”
Sam and I had bonded big time over our bikes. Mine was an old Honda Virago that I’d brought back from a virtual shell. It was almost criminal what’d been done to it, but now it looked like the beast it should always have been. Sam had fallen in love with it the first time he’d seen it and had bought himself an old British bike, a Norton, that Sadie’s dad had recommended.
Now, on Sundays, we rode them around Kissimmee together. I always took Milkshake, who stayed clipped to my chest and inside my hoodie, and Sam took his and Sam’s Corgi, Papillon, in much the same way.
When we went away and they babysat Milkshake, Sam always felt guilted into taking him out for a ride right after he dropped Papillon off back home. So he needed to make sure he had all the shit required to do that.
Shooting me a look, he mumbled, “Of course.”
“And I checked it online, you can’t put a baby seat in a sidecar,” Sasha snapped as she walked around the side of the house instead of through it. “It’s illegal and dangerous.”
“It was a joke,” Sam whispered as the side gate to the backyard slammed behind her. “I don’t think you guys should have any more babies. She turns into Satan when she has one.”
Luca chose that moment to lean across to Sam, smacking him with his chubby fist and grinning it at him. “Love ya.”
My boy was a love monster, a bit like his mom was when she wasn’t giving birth. Whereas Bronte’s first vocabulary was strong and made her feelings clear, Luca’s was more loving and gentle.