P is for Pregnant
"Honey, I'm home!" Travis shouted as he stepped through the front door, slamming it behind him with his foot.
"We're home," Mary corrected, glaring up at her father in accusation.
"I'm sorry. We're home." She nodded her head, smiled, and ran off into her room, dragging her backpack along behind her.
"Hey," Katie said, coming around the corner to greet Travis with a small peck on the lips. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Am I in trouble?" he asked, his eyes wide.
She smiled. "No."
"Oh, good." He followed her into the kitchen. She sat down at the table and motioned for him to do the same. "So?"
"So?"
"So what is it we need to talk about?"
Taking a deep breath, Katie said, "I'm pregnant."
As she stared at him, she was expecting some big celebration or a giant grin or maybe even a 'Yippee!' or another type of exclamation of excitement. Instead, all she got was a small, sad smile. "Katie, we can't get too excited about this. Not after the last two times."
"I know. That's why I didn't tell you . . ."
"Tell me what?"
"I didn't tell you until I was sure."
"How are you sure?"
"It's been seven weeks."
"You . . . You waited seven weeks to tell me?" he stuttered disbelievingly.
"I couldn't tell you any earlier," she said defensively. "It's just . . . I didn't want to get your hopes up."
"I know, Katie, but this is important. You're possibly pregnant-" He stopped suddenly and thought over what he just said. "You're possibly pregnant," he whispered, almost to himself.
Katie smiled. "I don't really think we need the possibly part anymore."
"Oh my gods." He grinned widely. "You're pregnant!"
"I'm pregnant!" They laughed and hugged each other. "Don't get too excited, though," she said, pulling back from him slightly.
"Why not?" He looked worried, almost.
"I read on the internet that you have to wait like 20 weeks until you're absolutely sure that you're pregnant and just-"
"Just shut up," Travis muttered before kissing her sweetly on the lips.
Travis really couldn't help the smile that came to his face as he watched his wife puke into the toilet bowl. She was puking! She was having morning sickness! "This is the happiest moment of my life," he whispered quietly to himself as she emptied her stomach of cereal from that morning.
"This is the worst moment of my life," Katie mumbled, leaning up against the wall parallel to the toilet. Travis slid down next to her and rubbed her back comfortingly. She glared at him and snarled, "Get that fucking smile off of your face."
The corners of his mouth went down almost immediately. "I wasn't smiling."
"Yes you were."
"No I wasn't," he said quickly.
"Yeah huh."
"Nuh uh." They had been spending far too much time with Mary lately.
Katie glared at him and he stared back innocently. That glare was just so cute. Her nose got all scrunched up and her eyes all narrowed. Travis hardly even noticed when he smiled slightly.
Pointing a finger in his face, she exclaimed, "Aha! You're smiling!"
"I am not!"
"Yes you-" Katie didn't get to finish her sentence as she rushed over to the toilet and threw up yet again. Travis stood behind her, holding her hair and stroking her back comfortingly.
All with a smirk on his face.
Katie leaned up against the toilet in exhaustion, her head resting on the edge of the seat. "I hate this. I hate my life."
"I actually believe this is a good, bonding experience."
She glowered up at him through her eyelashes. "That's because you aren't the one puking your guts out!"
"You know there actually is some man in, like, Tanzania or something, that literally puked his guts out? No lie. Like he was just suddenly feeling sick so he went in to the bathroom, puked up his liver and stomach and died about two minutes later." She stared up at him with emotionless eyes. "Never mind."
After a minute of silence, Travis sat down on the ground next to her. "You know what this is?" he asked.
"What?"
"I believe that this is indeed a Kodak moment." He stood up and smiled evilly down at her.
"You wouldn't," she mumbled, shaking her head hesitantly.
"Trust me, I would," he said, leaving the room to go get the camera. Within thirty seconds, he was back, digital camera in hand. He raised it up to his eye. "Say cheese!"
"No! Travis! No-huuuhl!"
"Oh my gods! I got an action shot! Amazing," he whispered in amazement as he stared at the picture.
"You get that freaking camera out of here," Katie started, flushing the toilet, wiping her mouth, and staring up at him, "unless you want it shoved so far up your-"
"It's going," Travis interrupted, backing out of the doorway.
"Good," she muttered, staring down at the swirling water.
Click! Flash!
"Travis!"
----------
"Good afternoon. Pleasant Times. This is Travis."
"I'm hungry."
Sigh "Then go eat something."
"But we don't have anything to eat."
"We just went shopping, like, last week, Katie. There has to be something for you to eat."
"But there isn't."
"There's absolutely no food in the house?"
"Well, yeah. There's food but none of it is any good."
"What about those yogurt things that we bought you? You said that they looked good. That you'd eat them."
"Well yeah. I tried those. They're really gross."
"We bought those especially for you, Katie. You're supposed to eat them."
"I know. I know! I'm sorry. They looked really good at the time."
"And now?"
"They still look good. But they taste like crap."
"Of course they do."
"But you know what sounds really good right now?"
"What?"
"Chocolate covered lobster."
". . . Ew."
"Don't ' . . . Ew' it! It sounds really, really good."
"No it doesn't. And you hate all seafood!"
"Not right now! It sounds really, really good."
"I'm not getting you lobster. You won't eat it and it's far too expensive."
"Please, please, please, please, please,-"
"I'm not giving in."
"-please, please, please, please, please,-"
"Nope. I'm not getting you lobster."
"-please, please, please, please, pleeeaaase."
". . . sigh. Fine."
"Yay! I love you, you know?"
"I know."
10 minutes later . . .
"Good afternoon. Pleasant Times. This is Travis."
"Can you get Cheez-itz too?"
"No."
"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
". . . Fine."
"But not the white cheddar kind. I don't like the white cheddar kind."
"I know you don't like the white cheddar kind."
"Don't get the spicy kind either. Those are gross, and Mary says they're too hot."
"I know."
"Just get normal, plain Cheez-itz. I know the reduced fat kind is better for you but they just don't taste the same. It's like they don't have enough salt or something, you know?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
"And don't you dare get the store brand either. Those taste nothing like Cheez-itz. They actually taste like Cheese Nips and oh my gods, if you even think about buying Cheese Nips I will punch you in the throat repeatedly."
"Got it. No Cheese Nips."
"Good. Love you."
"Love you, too. Bye."
5minutes later . . .
"Good afternoon. Pleas-"
"Scratch my last order! The white cheddar Cheez-itz are sounding really, really good."
"But you hate the white cheddar kind."
"I know I do but I was thinking about it and they suddenly sounded amazing and delicious and I want those."
"Fine."
"But the spicy ones are sounding good too."
"So how about I just get you every kind of Cheez-it there is."
"No, you don't have to do that. Just get the normal, the spicy, and the white cheddar."
Sigh. "Fine. So I'm getting the normal, spicy, and white cheddar Cheez-itz, chocolate, and lobster?"
"Eww! No, don't get lobster. That's sounds disgusting. What was I thinking?"
"Who knows?"
"But everything else, go ahead and get."
"Whatever."
15 minutes later . . .
"Good afternoon. Pleasant Times. This is Travis."
"You know what sounds really good right now?"
----------
"Oooooh!" Mary cooed from her car seat. "You said a bad word!"
Rolling his eyes, Travis glanced quickly behind him at his daughter. "I know I did, sweetie," he said looking back at the road, pulling the car over to the side like the voice coming out of the police vehicle behind him instructed. "I'm sorry and don't you ever say that word. Especially not in front of Mommy, kay?" She nodded her head and went back to her toy bunny.
Travis waited for the officer impatiently. He didn't really have time for this. Katie's water had broken just a few minutes prior and he had to get to the hospital now. Melani and her had been at their house, watching a movie. Conner was there too, taking a nap probably. That meant that Conner would be driving Katie to the hospital seeing as she obviously couldn't and Melani never got her driver's license. She said it "makes you so totally fat. You just sit there forever, moving your foot up and down. Walking, on the other hand, is much better, much healthier. Fat people drive." Great. So now their kids would be born in a McDonald's parking lot. Just great.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the police officer stepped out of their car and walked towards Travis's rolled down window. She was big, buff and tall. Probably taller than Travis. Her blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, and the sun glinted off of her sunglasses. The name on her tag said, 'Bobbie.' Who the hell named a girl Bobbie?
"How's it going, Bobbie?" Travis greeted with a bright smile. She didn't smile back.
"Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?" she asked. Her voice was cold and harsh. She obviously was not loved as a child.
"I don't know. Maybe you were getting complaints from the other drivers because they were oh so distracted by my non-threatening good looks." He shrugged and winked slyly at her.
"You were going 45 miles per hour, sir, on a street where you're only supposed to go 25," Bobbie stated, ignoring his last comment. "And," she said, glancing into the back seat at Mary, "with a child in the car." Looking back into Travis's eyes, she shook her head. "You're a bigger idiot than I thought."
"I'm not an idiot," he corrected. "I'm smarter than you think."
"So you're smart but you just choose to act dumb?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
"I'm so smart, I'm practically retarded." Bobbie stared at him as if she were disgusted. He smirked. "And Mary's perfectly fine," he said, referring to her earlier worry. "Aren't you Mary?" They both looked over at her confused face.
"Huh?"
"See?" Travis turned back to the officer, smirk still on his lips. "Perfectly fine. Now, this really has been lovely, but I have things to do, people to meet. So how about you let me off with a warning, I flash you my nipple, and we drive off in our separate ways, hopefully never to meet again. Deal?"
"No deal."
"Look, officer," Travis said. His voice had gone from happy-and-in-a-completely-awesome-mood-cuz-my-wife's-about-to-gvie-birth to holt-shit-my-friend!-My-wife's-about-to-give-birth-and-I'm-still-not-at-the-hospital-and-it's-all-your-fault!-I-really-want-to-punch-you-in-the-throat-right-about-now. "My idiotic brother who's probably hammered drunk is in charge of getting my pregnant wife to the doctor's so she can give birth to our triplets and I need to get to the hospital right about now!" he shouted as he seethed angrily.
Bobbie didn't show any emotion (Did she ever?). She brought her hand up to her face and pulled her sunglasses to her nose, showing him her dark, intimidating eyes. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"
Travis rushed into the hospital, Bobbie on his heel and Mary holding his hand. He wished he had a police escort all the time. You could get pretty much anywhere in 5 minutes going 85 miles per hour and having every other car on the road move out of your way, while also being able to run all red lights and stop signs. He didn't even know a minivan could go 85 miles per hour.
After looking around frantically, he finally spotted Conner, Melani, and . . . shit!
"What the hell is he doing here?" Travis asked, running up to them and pointing at Timmy angrily.
"Ooooh! Daddy said another bad word!" Mary yelled.
"Finally you're here! What took you so long?" Melani whined. Even though she was talking to Travis, her eyes stalked Conner as he stood up and approached the lady in the police uniform. He flipped his hair and smiled just like he always did. When she slapped him across the face, Melani couldn't help but smile.
"Sup, Travis," Timmy said, smiling up at the older man.
"I still hate you," whispered Travis, glaring down at him angrily.
"Where's Mommy?" Mary yelled, finally making her father stop glaring at Timmy.
"This isn't over," he whispered before turning back to Mary. "I don't know where Mommy is, sweetie." He thought over her words. "Wait!" he shouted to the rest of the group. "Where is Katie?"
"Oh! She's in that room over there," Melani said, pointing to a door a few yards away. When Travis started walking in that direction, Melani stopped him. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
"Why not?"
"She's giving birth," Conner stated, while rubbing the red mark on his cheek warily.
"What?" he exclaimed, turning in circles and debating in his head whether he should rush over to her room or yell at them some more. He chose the latter. "Why aren't any of you in there with her?"
"They said only family and her 'significant other' could go in there with her. Her doctor is hot. Hell no am I pretending to be a lesbo just so I could go in there," Melani said, flipping through the pages of an Us magazine. "Oh, Angelina," she whispered under her breath. "Not another."
"Did you ever think that maybe, I don't know, you could act like her sister?" he shouted angrily.
"Oh," she sighed, glancing up from the magazine to stare at Travis. She shrugged. "Whoops."
"And you," he yelled turning to Conner and pointing an accusing finger in his face. "You have the same last name as her!"
"Yeah, I realized that," Conner said nonchalantly. "But that's just nasty. It's your wife, your kids, and her . . . you know. I really didn't want to see that."
Before Travis could yell at this brother some more, Timmy cut in. "If it helps any, I volunteered to go in there." He smiled as Travis seethed angrily at him. "They thought I was the kids' father."
"Sticks and stones may break my bones but I'm gonna kick you repeatedly in the balls," Travis said angrily before releasing Mary's hand and stomping away to the door Melani had said Katie was behind. He hesitated before knocking lightly.
An irritated looking nurse opened the door, probably expecting some scary doctor with news of a dead patient. When he saw Travis, he looked even more pissed off. Travis could hear yells and groans of pain behind him. "You have the wrong room," he said angrily before slamming the door in Travis's face.
He knocked once more and waited for him to open the door once again. He looked even more pissed this time. "What?" he shouted angrily.
"Hi," Travis said, a small smile on his face. "How's it going?"
"What do you want?" His hand rested on the door knob as if threatening that he would close the door again if he had to. Ooh! Chills.
"Is-Is that Katie in there? Katie Stoll?"
"I don't know," he sneered, going to close the door once more. Travis stopped it just in time.
"Look, I think that's my wife in there, and - holy shit!" he yelled, looking over the nurse's shoulder. "That-That-That's the head of one of my kids. And . . . oh my gods. We're never having sex again."
The nurse rolled his eyes before opening the door a bit wider, allowing Travis to step in. The moment he saw Katie on the bed, a smile lit his face. Her hair was wet with perspiration and her faced was flushed. Her knuckles were turning white as she clung on to the bed rails for dear life. The nurse put out a hand, stopping Travis as he tried to rush to her side.
"Ma'am," he interrupted.
"WHAT?" Travis's smile only grew.
The nurse rolled his eyes before saying, "This man claims to be your husband."
After pushing once more as the doctor instructed, she opened her eyes. Travis was expecting her to smile and be ecstatic that he was finally there. But no. Her eyes were full of anger and loathing. "I hate you," she said, shaking her head. "I hate you so much."
Travis was full on beaming at that point. He rushed over to her side and grabbed her hand. Pushing her hair behind her ear, he kissed her forehead. "I love you, too, sweetie," he mumbled as she gripped his hand tighter and gritted her teeth.
Meanwhile . . .
"And he's just always such an ass," Melani whined to the police lady whose name she still didn't know. "I mean, sometimes he's like really sweet. Like this one time, oh my gods, I thought I was in love with him. I really did. Guess what he did. Just guess."
"I don't know," she drawled, looking through an old magazine.
"He stalked me for a whole month. It was so romantic." Melani sighed dreamily.
The police lady glanced up. "Stalking is against the law and in no way romantic."
Rolling her eyes, Melani told her, "We were just kids, really. We went to the same camp. It was just a harmless act of puppy dog love. Conner's not a freak," she added. "Not really anyways."
"We're talking about this guy right here, right?" she asked, pointing to Conner sitting a few seats away from them.
Melani nodded her head and stared at him. "He's gorgeous, isn't he?"
"Uh . . . sure." She rolled her eyes and glanced back down at her magazine.
"We had a one night stand once. It was amazing."
"Is that so?"
"Mmhm. I thought I was in love after that. But then he made me leave. He said that if Katie or Travis ever found out about us, we'd both be dead but I think they would've been ecstatic." Melani continued staring and twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
"Did you ever think that maybe he said that because he didn't want to be in a relationship with you? Maybe he was just using you?"
Melani's face visibly deflated as she turned to look back at the police lady. "Conner wouldn't do that. I-I don't think so." The police lady continued reading her magazine, unfazed, while Melani sat and contemplated the situation in her head. "Enough about me," she suddenly said. "What about you? What's your name?"
She stared up at her through her eyelashes before saying, "Bobbie."
Melani crinkled her nose. "Is that your birth name?"
"Barbara," she said as if she were disgusted before looking back down at the magazine in her lap.
"Now that's much prettier! I think I'll call you that." She stuck out her hand for Bobbie to shake. "Melani. Melani Amora."
A few seats away . . .
Mary sat in the uncomfy chair between Timmy and Uncle Conner awkwardly. They were shouting out random numbers as ladies walked by and the numbers weren't even in order. It was very strange.
"8," Timmy whispered excitedly as another girl walked by. Her skirt was far too short. Mommy would not have like it.
Uncle Conner shook his head. "7."
"What?" he exclaimed. "Did you see that rack?"
"Yeah," Uncle Conner answered. "But did you see her teeth? Check again, young grasshopper." As the lady walked by again, Mary looked at her teeth too. She must've gotten lots of money from the Tooth Fairy. "That'd just be weird during a make out session. And what about a blow job? In my opinion, the teeth is the best part."
"True," Timmy agreed. "6."
"I agree."
"But you had 7 before," he pointed out.
"Yeah. So?"
"So you can't just go change your mind-"
"Well I did change my mind. I'm your elder. I can do things like this. Now shut up."
They continued counting out of order and eventually, Mary had enough. "I don't get it," she shouted.
"What don't you get?" Uncle Conner asked, glancing down at her with a smile.
"You're not counting right. It goes 1,2,3,4-"
"We're not counting," Timmy interrupted. "We're rating."
"Rating?"
"Yes, rating," Uncle Conner continued. "We look at a girl, and then we say how pretty we think she is with a number. 1 being the least pretty and 10 being the prettiest you could be."
"Oh," Mary said.
"And you, my dear, would be a 200 billion trillion," he stated, tapping her nose and making her giggle. "Now, Mary, do you see any pretty boys out there you want to rate?"
"Eww!" she whined. "Boys have coodies."
Uncle Conner faked hurt. "I don't have coodies, do I?"
She laughed once more and rolled her eyes, just like her mother. "No, silly! You're Uncle Conner!"
"Do I have coodies?" Timmy asked. Mary turned to him and crinkled her nose.
"My daddy says I'm not supposed to talk to you."
After a few more girls passed by, the doors finally burst open and there stood Travis, a big and goofy grin on his face. "It's a boy. And a boy. And a boy."
Travis and Katie lay in the hospital bed together, both fast asleep. After all three babies were born and cleaned up, the doctor finally allowed visitors. After an hour or so, Bobbie had to go back to work ("Who the hell is she?" Katie asked. Travis shrugged innocently. He would wait for some other time to tell her that he got a speeding ticket with their daughter in the car.) and Timmy had some 'hot date' he had to get ready for. After numerous other guests and visitors - siblings and friends from camp, Katie's dad, some guy neither of them had ever met before - Melani finally took Mary back to her apartment and Conner left with some nurse that got a 500,096 from Timmy earlier in the day.
Finally, Travis and Katie were alone. What did they do? Sleep, of course.
That is until Dario started crying.
"Uggghhh," they groaned in unison.
"You get it," Katie moaned.
"You get it," Travis argued.
"I just gave birth to him. You get it."
"But . . . I'm just so tired."
"Again, I just gave birth to him."
"Well I went to work today."
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's perfectly fine now cuz having three children in a row come sliding on out of a whole the size of a grape-"
"Oh it was bigger than a grape. I saw it."
"Just shut up so I can finish my rant. Giving birth is not the same as sitting in a chair for 9 hours and answering phones."
"Hey," he said loudly compared to their quiet whispers from before. He opened his eyes for the first time and glared at her. "I also take notes in meetings, thank you very much."
She smiled and stared at him with big, puppy dog eyes. "Pretty please with a cherry on top. And sprinkles. And chocolate sauce. And-"
"I want you on that pretty please."
She sighed. "Fine."
"Hot damn, that's a good deal," he said, standing up from the bed and picking up the crying baby. Right when he handed Dario to Katie so she could feed him, Chevy started crying as well. Travis groaned.
"Just get him, too," she mumbled, busy with Dario.
"Are you going to start crying too, now?" he asked Brennon as he picked up his brother. As if he heard him, Brennon started to cry too. "I was kidding, my friend. Just kidding." He didn't stop. "Gods, couldn't we have stopped after Mary?" he asked Katie as he turned around, both babies in his arms.
"Shut up and get over here."
Travis followed the instructions and handed one baby over and grabbing the other she handed over. They did this for all three boys until none of them were crying anymore.
"Finally," Katie sighed, closing up her shirt. She watched her husband as he put the triplets into their small cribs. She also watched him as he hesitated. "Why'd you just hesitate?"
"I-I-I didn't hesitate."
"Yes you did, and now you're stuttering which means you're lying to me."
"I'm not . . . I don't know which is which," he whispered.
"You mixed them up?"
"No! . . . Well, yeah. Yeah I did."
"Oh my gods! They're your kids! How the hell do you mix them up?"
"They're triplets! How the hell don't you mix them up?"
"They aren't even identical!"
"So?"
Katie sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just come here. I know my own kids." He walked back over to the bed and showed her the baby in his hands.
"Who's this?"
"That, my dear friend, is Brennon because Brennon has a birth mark on the side of his neck."
"You sure?" Travis asked, walking over to Brennon's crib and putting him in there.
"Positive." He walked back over with another child in his arms.
"That is . . . Crap."
"Not as easy as it looks, huh?"
"Shut up! Brennon has the birth mark on his neck and I could've sworn he had hair, too."
"I thought Dario had hair."
"Are two of them really bald?"
Travis paused. "I don't know." She looked at him desperately, searching for an answer of what to do next. "You know what we're gonna do?"
"What?"
"I say we just put each of their names in a hat and we draw them out at random. Whoever gets what name is that person for the rest of their lives. They'll never know!" Travis smiled as if he had just saved the world.
Katie stared at him incredulously. "Really?" she asked.
"Do you have a better idea?"
Nodding her head, she said, "Yes, actually I do. I say we just ask a nurse. They can just do a blood test or something." She went to go reach for the buzzer to call a nurse, but Travis snatched it out of her hand just in time. "Hey!"
"We can't call a nurse! They'd think we're crazy and call Child Protective Services on us."
"No they wouldn't." But she didn't seem that confident.
"Are you willing to risk it?"
She sighed. "Fine. We won't call the nurse. But we have to figure out who's who."
"We will. Probably." He took the baby out of her arms and stared at him. "Does Dario have blue eyes?"
"I thought all babies were born with blue eyes?"
"I don't know! I'm just trying to find a difference."
Katie sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling the baby back into her arms. "Do normal babies have eyelashes?"
"I don't know. Did Mary have eyelashes?"
"I don't know."
They sighed in unison.
"I'll go get the hat."
"We're home," Mary corrected, glaring up at her father in accusation.
"I'm sorry. We're home." She nodded her head, smiled, and ran off into her room, dragging her backpack along behind her.
"Hey," Katie said, coming around the corner to greet Travis with a small peck on the lips. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Am I in trouble?" he asked, his eyes wide.
She smiled. "No."
"Oh, good." He followed her into the kitchen. She sat down at the table and motioned for him to do the same. "So?"
"So?"
"So what is it we need to talk about?"
Taking a deep breath, Katie said, "I'm pregnant."
As she stared at him, she was expecting some big celebration or a giant grin or maybe even a 'Yippee!' or another type of exclamation of excitement. Instead, all she got was a small, sad smile. "Katie, we can't get too excited about this. Not after the last two times."
"I know. That's why I didn't tell you . . ."
"Tell me what?"
"I didn't tell you until I was sure."
"How are you sure?"
"It's been seven weeks."
"You . . . You waited seven weeks to tell me?" he stuttered disbelievingly.
"I couldn't tell you any earlier," she said defensively. "It's just . . . I didn't want to get your hopes up."
"I know, Katie, but this is important. You're possibly pregnant-" He stopped suddenly and thought over what he just said. "You're possibly pregnant," he whispered, almost to himself.
Katie smiled. "I don't really think we need the possibly part anymore."
"Oh my gods." He grinned widely. "You're pregnant!"
"I'm pregnant!" They laughed and hugged each other. "Don't get too excited, though," she said, pulling back from him slightly.
"Why not?" He looked worried, almost.
"I read on the internet that you have to wait like 20 weeks until you're absolutely sure that you're pregnant and just-"
"Just shut up," Travis muttered before kissing her sweetly on the lips.
Travis really couldn't help the smile that came to his face as he watched his wife puke into the toilet bowl. She was puking! She was having morning sickness! "This is the happiest moment of my life," he whispered quietly to himself as she emptied her stomach of cereal from that morning.
"This is the worst moment of my life," Katie mumbled, leaning up against the wall parallel to the toilet. Travis slid down next to her and rubbed her back comfortingly. She glared at him and snarled, "Get that fucking smile off of your face."
The corners of his mouth went down almost immediately. "I wasn't smiling."
"Yes you were."
"No I wasn't," he said quickly.
"Yeah huh."
"Nuh uh." They had been spending far too much time with Mary lately.
Katie glared at him and he stared back innocently. That glare was just so cute. Her nose got all scrunched up and her eyes all narrowed. Travis hardly even noticed when he smiled slightly.
Pointing a finger in his face, she exclaimed, "Aha! You're smiling!"
"I am not!"
"Yes you-" Katie didn't get to finish her sentence as she rushed over to the toilet and threw up yet again. Travis stood behind her, holding her hair and stroking her back comfortingly.
All with a smirk on his face.
Katie leaned up against the toilet in exhaustion, her head resting on the edge of the seat. "I hate this. I hate my life."
"I actually believe this is a good, bonding experience."
She glowered up at him through her eyelashes. "That's because you aren't the one puking your guts out!"
"You know there actually is some man in, like, Tanzania or something, that literally puked his guts out? No lie. Like he was just suddenly feeling sick so he went in to the bathroom, puked up his liver and stomach and died about two minutes later." She stared up at him with emotionless eyes. "Never mind."
After a minute of silence, Travis sat down on the ground next to her. "You know what this is?" he asked.
"What?"
"I believe that this is indeed a Kodak moment." He stood up and smiled evilly down at her.
"You wouldn't," she mumbled, shaking her head hesitantly.
"Trust me, I would," he said, leaving the room to go get the camera. Within thirty seconds, he was back, digital camera in hand. He raised it up to his eye. "Say cheese!"
"No! Travis! No-huuuhl!"
"Oh my gods! I got an action shot! Amazing," he whispered in amazement as he stared at the picture.
"You get that freaking camera out of here," Katie started, flushing the toilet, wiping her mouth, and staring up at him, "unless you want it shoved so far up your-"
"It's going," Travis interrupted, backing out of the doorway.
"Good," she muttered, staring down at the swirling water.
Click! Flash!
"Travis!"
----------
"Good afternoon. Pleasant Times. This is Travis."
"I'm hungry."
Sigh "Then go eat something."
"But we don't have anything to eat."
"We just went shopping, like, last week, Katie. There has to be something for you to eat."
"But there isn't."
"There's absolutely no food in the house?"
"Well, yeah. There's food but none of it is any good."
"What about those yogurt things that we bought you? You said that they looked good. That you'd eat them."
"Well yeah. I tried those. They're really gross."
"We bought those especially for you, Katie. You're supposed to eat them."
"I know. I know! I'm sorry. They looked really good at the time."
"And now?"
"They still look good. But they taste like crap."
"Of course they do."
"But you know what sounds really good right now?"
"What?"
"Chocolate covered lobster."
". . . Ew."
"Don't ' . . . Ew' it! It sounds really, really good."
"No it doesn't. And you hate all seafood!"
"Not right now! It sounds really, really good."
"I'm not getting you lobster. You won't eat it and it's far too expensive."
"Please, please, please, please, please,-"
"I'm not giving in."
"-please, please, please, please, please,-"
"Nope. I'm not getting you lobster."
"-please, please, please, please, pleeeaaase."
". . . sigh. Fine."
"Yay! I love you, you know?"
"I know."
10 minutes later . . .
"Good afternoon. Pleasant Times. This is Travis."
"Can you get Cheez-itz too?"
"No."
"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
". . . Fine."
"But not the white cheddar kind. I don't like the white cheddar kind."
"I know you don't like the white cheddar kind."
"Don't get the spicy kind either. Those are gross, and Mary says they're too hot."
"I know."
"Just get normal, plain Cheez-itz. I know the reduced fat kind is better for you but they just don't taste the same. It's like they don't have enough salt or something, you know?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
"And don't you dare get the store brand either. Those taste nothing like Cheez-itz. They actually taste like Cheese Nips and oh my gods, if you even think about buying Cheese Nips I will punch you in the throat repeatedly."
"Got it. No Cheese Nips."
"Good. Love you."
"Love you, too. Bye."
5minutes later . . .
"Good afternoon. Pleas-"
"Scratch my last order! The white cheddar Cheez-itz are sounding really, really good."
"But you hate the white cheddar kind."
"I know I do but I was thinking about it and they suddenly sounded amazing and delicious and I want those."
"Fine."
"But the spicy ones are sounding good too."
"So how about I just get you every kind of Cheez-it there is."
"No, you don't have to do that. Just get the normal, the spicy, and the white cheddar."
Sigh. "Fine. So I'm getting the normal, spicy, and white cheddar Cheez-itz, chocolate, and lobster?"
"Eww! No, don't get lobster. That's sounds disgusting. What was I thinking?"
"Who knows?"
"But everything else, go ahead and get."
"Whatever."
15 minutes later . . .
"Good afternoon. Pleasant Times. This is Travis."
"You know what sounds really good right now?"
----------
"Oooooh!" Mary cooed from her car seat. "You said a bad word!"
Rolling his eyes, Travis glanced quickly behind him at his daughter. "I know I did, sweetie," he said looking back at the road, pulling the car over to the side like the voice coming out of the police vehicle behind him instructed. "I'm sorry and don't you ever say that word. Especially not in front of Mommy, kay?" She nodded her head and went back to her toy bunny.
Travis waited for the officer impatiently. He didn't really have time for this. Katie's water had broken just a few minutes prior and he had to get to the hospital now. Melani and her had been at their house, watching a movie. Conner was there too, taking a nap probably. That meant that Conner would be driving Katie to the hospital seeing as she obviously couldn't and Melani never got her driver's license. She said it "makes you so totally fat. You just sit there forever, moving your foot up and down. Walking, on the other hand, is much better, much healthier. Fat people drive." Great. So now their kids would be born in a McDonald's parking lot. Just great.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the police officer stepped out of their car and walked towards Travis's rolled down window. She was big, buff and tall. Probably taller than Travis. Her blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, and the sun glinted off of her sunglasses. The name on her tag said, 'Bobbie.' Who the hell named a girl Bobbie?
"How's it going, Bobbie?" Travis greeted with a bright smile. She didn't smile back.
"Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?" she asked. Her voice was cold and harsh. She obviously was not loved as a child.
"I don't know. Maybe you were getting complaints from the other drivers because they were oh so distracted by my non-threatening good looks." He shrugged and winked slyly at her.
"You were going 45 miles per hour, sir, on a street where you're only supposed to go 25," Bobbie stated, ignoring his last comment. "And," she said, glancing into the back seat at Mary, "with a child in the car." Looking back into Travis's eyes, she shook her head. "You're a bigger idiot than I thought."
"I'm not an idiot," he corrected. "I'm smarter than you think."
"So you're smart but you just choose to act dumb?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
"I'm so smart, I'm practically retarded." Bobbie stared at him as if she were disgusted. He smirked. "And Mary's perfectly fine," he said, referring to her earlier worry. "Aren't you Mary?" They both looked over at her confused face.
"Huh?"
"See?" Travis turned back to the officer, smirk still on his lips. "Perfectly fine. Now, this really has been lovely, but I have things to do, people to meet. So how about you let me off with a warning, I flash you my nipple, and we drive off in our separate ways, hopefully never to meet again. Deal?"
"No deal."
"Look, officer," Travis said. His voice had gone from happy-and-in-a-completely-awesome-mood-cuz-my-wife's-about-to-gvie-birth to holt-shit-my-friend!-My-wife's-about-to-give-birth-and-I'm-still-not-at-the-hospital-and-it's-all-your-fault!-I-really-want-to-punch-you-in-the-throat-right-about-now. "My idiotic brother who's probably hammered drunk is in charge of getting my pregnant wife to the doctor's so she can give birth to our triplets and I need to get to the hospital right about now!" he shouted as he seethed angrily.
Bobbie didn't show any emotion (Did she ever?). She brought her hand up to her face and pulled her sunglasses to her nose, showing him her dark, intimidating eyes. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"
Travis rushed into the hospital, Bobbie on his heel and Mary holding his hand. He wished he had a police escort all the time. You could get pretty much anywhere in 5 minutes going 85 miles per hour and having every other car on the road move out of your way, while also being able to run all red lights and stop signs. He didn't even know a minivan could go 85 miles per hour.
After looking around frantically, he finally spotted Conner, Melani, and . . . shit!
"What the hell is he doing here?" Travis asked, running up to them and pointing at Timmy angrily.
"Ooooh! Daddy said another bad word!" Mary yelled.
"Finally you're here! What took you so long?" Melani whined. Even though she was talking to Travis, her eyes stalked Conner as he stood up and approached the lady in the police uniform. He flipped his hair and smiled just like he always did. When she slapped him across the face, Melani couldn't help but smile.
"Sup, Travis," Timmy said, smiling up at the older man.
"I still hate you," whispered Travis, glaring down at him angrily.
"Where's Mommy?" Mary yelled, finally making her father stop glaring at Timmy.
"This isn't over," he whispered before turning back to Mary. "I don't know where Mommy is, sweetie." He thought over her words. "Wait!" he shouted to the rest of the group. "Where is Katie?"
"Oh! She's in that room over there," Melani said, pointing to a door a few yards away. When Travis started walking in that direction, Melani stopped him. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
"Why not?"
"She's giving birth," Conner stated, while rubbing the red mark on his cheek warily.
"What?" he exclaimed, turning in circles and debating in his head whether he should rush over to her room or yell at them some more. He chose the latter. "Why aren't any of you in there with her?"
"They said only family and her 'significant other' could go in there with her. Her doctor is hot. Hell no am I pretending to be a lesbo just so I could go in there," Melani said, flipping through the pages of an Us magazine. "Oh, Angelina," she whispered under her breath. "Not another."
"Did you ever think that maybe, I don't know, you could act like her sister?" he shouted angrily.
"Oh," she sighed, glancing up from the magazine to stare at Travis. She shrugged. "Whoops."
"And you," he yelled turning to Conner and pointing an accusing finger in his face. "You have the same last name as her!"
"Yeah, I realized that," Conner said nonchalantly. "But that's just nasty. It's your wife, your kids, and her . . . you know. I really didn't want to see that."
Before Travis could yell at this brother some more, Timmy cut in. "If it helps any, I volunteered to go in there." He smiled as Travis seethed angrily at him. "They thought I was the kids' father."
"Sticks and stones may break my bones but I'm gonna kick you repeatedly in the balls," Travis said angrily before releasing Mary's hand and stomping away to the door Melani had said Katie was behind. He hesitated before knocking lightly.
An irritated looking nurse opened the door, probably expecting some scary doctor with news of a dead patient. When he saw Travis, he looked even more pissed off. Travis could hear yells and groans of pain behind him. "You have the wrong room," he said angrily before slamming the door in Travis's face.
He knocked once more and waited for him to open the door once again. He looked even more pissed this time. "What?" he shouted angrily.
"Hi," Travis said, a small smile on his face. "How's it going?"
"What do you want?" His hand rested on the door knob as if threatening that he would close the door again if he had to. Ooh! Chills.
"Is-Is that Katie in there? Katie Stoll?"
"I don't know," he sneered, going to close the door once more. Travis stopped it just in time.
"Look, I think that's my wife in there, and - holy shit!" he yelled, looking over the nurse's shoulder. "That-That-That's the head of one of my kids. And . . . oh my gods. We're never having sex again."
The nurse rolled his eyes before opening the door a bit wider, allowing Travis to step in. The moment he saw Katie on the bed, a smile lit his face. Her hair was wet with perspiration and her faced was flushed. Her knuckles were turning white as she clung on to the bed rails for dear life. The nurse put out a hand, stopping Travis as he tried to rush to her side.
"Ma'am," he interrupted.
"WHAT?" Travis's smile only grew.
The nurse rolled his eyes before saying, "This man claims to be your husband."
After pushing once more as the doctor instructed, she opened her eyes. Travis was expecting her to smile and be ecstatic that he was finally there. But no. Her eyes were full of anger and loathing. "I hate you," she said, shaking her head. "I hate you so much."
Travis was full on beaming at that point. He rushed over to her side and grabbed her hand. Pushing her hair behind her ear, he kissed her forehead. "I love you, too, sweetie," he mumbled as she gripped his hand tighter and gritted her teeth.
Meanwhile . . .
"And he's just always such an ass," Melani whined to the police lady whose name she still didn't know. "I mean, sometimes he's like really sweet. Like this one time, oh my gods, I thought I was in love with him. I really did. Guess what he did. Just guess."
"I don't know," she drawled, looking through an old magazine.
"He stalked me for a whole month. It was so romantic." Melani sighed dreamily.
The police lady glanced up. "Stalking is against the law and in no way romantic."
Rolling her eyes, Melani told her, "We were just kids, really. We went to the same camp. It was just a harmless act of puppy dog love. Conner's not a freak," she added. "Not really anyways."
"We're talking about this guy right here, right?" she asked, pointing to Conner sitting a few seats away from them.
Melani nodded her head and stared at him. "He's gorgeous, isn't he?"
"Uh . . . sure." She rolled her eyes and glanced back down at her magazine.
"We had a one night stand once. It was amazing."
"Is that so?"
"Mmhm. I thought I was in love after that. But then he made me leave. He said that if Katie or Travis ever found out about us, we'd both be dead but I think they would've been ecstatic." Melani continued staring and twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
"Did you ever think that maybe he said that because he didn't want to be in a relationship with you? Maybe he was just using you?"
Melani's face visibly deflated as she turned to look back at the police lady. "Conner wouldn't do that. I-I don't think so." The police lady continued reading her magazine, unfazed, while Melani sat and contemplated the situation in her head. "Enough about me," she suddenly said. "What about you? What's your name?"
She stared up at her through her eyelashes before saying, "Bobbie."
Melani crinkled her nose. "Is that your birth name?"
"Barbara," she said as if she were disgusted before looking back down at the magazine in her lap.
"Now that's much prettier! I think I'll call you that." She stuck out her hand for Bobbie to shake. "Melani. Melani Amora."
A few seats away . . .
Mary sat in the uncomfy chair between Timmy and Uncle Conner awkwardly. They were shouting out random numbers as ladies walked by and the numbers weren't even in order. It was very strange.
"8," Timmy whispered excitedly as another girl walked by. Her skirt was far too short. Mommy would not have like it.
Uncle Conner shook his head. "7."
"What?" he exclaimed. "Did you see that rack?"
"Yeah," Uncle Conner answered. "But did you see her teeth? Check again, young grasshopper." As the lady walked by again, Mary looked at her teeth too. She must've gotten lots of money from the Tooth Fairy. "That'd just be weird during a make out session. And what about a blow job? In my opinion, the teeth is the best part."
"True," Timmy agreed. "6."
"I agree."
"But you had 7 before," he pointed out.
"Yeah. So?"
"So you can't just go change your mind-"
"Well I did change my mind. I'm your elder. I can do things like this. Now shut up."
They continued counting out of order and eventually, Mary had enough. "I don't get it," she shouted.
"What don't you get?" Uncle Conner asked, glancing down at her with a smile.
"You're not counting right. It goes 1,2,3,4-"
"We're not counting," Timmy interrupted. "We're rating."
"Rating?"
"Yes, rating," Uncle Conner continued. "We look at a girl, and then we say how pretty we think she is with a number. 1 being the least pretty and 10 being the prettiest you could be."
"Oh," Mary said.
"And you, my dear, would be a 200 billion trillion," he stated, tapping her nose and making her giggle. "Now, Mary, do you see any pretty boys out there you want to rate?"
"Eww!" she whined. "Boys have coodies."
Uncle Conner faked hurt. "I don't have coodies, do I?"
She laughed once more and rolled her eyes, just like her mother. "No, silly! You're Uncle Conner!"
"Do I have coodies?" Timmy asked. Mary turned to him and crinkled her nose.
"My daddy says I'm not supposed to talk to you."
After a few more girls passed by, the doors finally burst open and there stood Travis, a big and goofy grin on his face. "It's a boy. And a boy. And a boy."
Travis and Katie lay in the hospital bed together, both fast asleep. After all three babies were born and cleaned up, the doctor finally allowed visitors. After an hour or so, Bobbie had to go back to work ("Who the hell is she?" Katie asked. Travis shrugged innocently. He would wait for some other time to tell her that he got a speeding ticket with their daughter in the car.) and Timmy had some 'hot date' he had to get ready for. After numerous other guests and visitors - siblings and friends from camp, Katie's dad, some guy neither of them had ever met before - Melani finally took Mary back to her apartment and Conner left with some nurse that got a 500,096 from Timmy earlier in the day.
Finally, Travis and Katie were alone. What did they do? Sleep, of course.
That is until Dario started crying.
"Uggghhh," they groaned in unison.
"You get it," Katie moaned.
"You get it," Travis argued.
"I just gave birth to him. You get it."
"But . . . I'm just so tired."
"Again, I just gave birth to him."
"Well I went to work today."
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's perfectly fine now cuz having three children in a row come sliding on out of a whole the size of a grape-"
"Oh it was bigger than a grape. I saw it."
"Just shut up so I can finish my rant. Giving birth is not the same as sitting in a chair for 9 hours and answering phones."
"Hey," he said loudly compared to their quiet whispers from before. He opened his eyes for the first time and glared at her. "I also take notes in meetings, thank you very much."
She smiled and stared at him with big, puppy dog eyes. "Pretty please with a cherry on top. And sprinkles. And chocolate sauce. And-"
"I want you on that pretty please."
She sighed. "Fine."
"Hot damn, that's a good deal," he said, standing up from the bed and picking up the crying baby. Right when he handed Dario to Katie so she could feed him, Chevy started crying as well. Travis groaned.
"Just get him, too," she mumbled, busy with Dario.
"Are you going to start crying too, now?" he asked Brennon as he picked up his brother. As if he heard him, Brennon started to cry too. "I was kidding, my friend. Just kidding." He didn't stop. "Gods, couldn't we have stopped after Mary?" he asked Katie as he turned around, both babies in his arms.
"Shut up and get over here."
Travis followed the instructions and handed one baby over and grabbing the other she handed over. They did this for all three boys until none of them were crying anymore.
"Finally," Katie sighed, closing up her shirt. She watched her husband as he put the triplets into their small cribs. She also watched him as he hesitated. "Why'd you just hesitate?"
"I-I-I didn't hesitate."
"Yes you did, and now you're stuttering which means you're lying to me."
"I'm not . . . I don't know which is which," he whispered.
"You mixed them up?"
"No! . . . Well, yeah. Yeah I did."
"Oh my gods! They're your kids! How the hell do you mix them up?"
"They're triplets! How the hell don't you mix them up?"
"They aren't even identical!"
"So?"
Katie sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just come here. I know my own kids." He walked back over to the bed and showed her the baby in his hands.
"Who's this?"
"That, my dear friend, is Brennon because Brennon has a birth mark on the side of his neck."
"You sure?" Travis asked, walking over to Brennon's crib and putting him in there.
"Positive." He walked back over with another child in his arms.
"That is . . . Crap."
"Not as easy as it looks, huh?"
"Shut up! Brennon has the birth mark on his neck and I could've sworn he had hair, too."
"I thought Dario had hair."
"Are two of them really bald?"
Travis paused. "I don't know." She looked at him desperately, searching for an answer of what to do next. "You know what we're gonna do?"
"What?"
"I say we just put each of their names in a hat and we draw them out at random. Whoever gets what name is that person for the rest of their lives. They'll never know!" Travis smiled as if he had just saved the world.
Katie stared at him incredulously. "Really?" she asked.
"Do you have a better idea?"
Nodding her head, she said, "Yes, actually I do. I say we just ask a nurse. They can just do a blood test or something." She went to go reach for the buzzer to call a nurse, but Travis snatched it out of her hand just in time. "Hey!"
"We can't call a nurse! They'd think we're crazy and call Child Protective Services on us."
"No they wouldn't." But she didn't seem that confident.
"Are you willing to risk it?"
She sighed. "Fine. We won't call the nurse. But we have to figure out who's who."
"We will. Probably." He took the baby out of her arms and stared at him. "Does Dario have blue eyes?"
"I thought all babies were born with blue eyes?"
"I don't know! I'm just trying to find a difference."
Katie sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling the baby back into her arms. "Do normal babies have eyelashes?"
"I don't know. Did Mary have eyelashes?"
"I don't know."
They sighed in unison.
"I'll go get the hat."