Page 95 of Ruin The Friendship
41
YOURS FOR THE TAKING
LYDIA
Icuddle up next to Fletcher on the couch, resting my head on his chest. This all feels too good, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“What are you thinking about?” Fletcher asks, always knowing me so well.
“It feels too perfect. I mean, this shouldn’t be so easy.”
He shrugs. “Why not? We’ve known each other for a long time. It makes sense that this is coming to us naturally.”
I nuzzle deeper into his chest. “I guess that’s true.” I can’t help but still feel a bit off. “When do you leave for your next road trip?”
“Monday.” His fingers twist a curl of my hair. He's always playing with my hair.
“How long are you gone for this time?”
“A week.”
“I hate away games.” Even more so since I’ve been pregnant and we’ve been exploring this. I hate having him away from me.
Fletcher kisses the top of my head, squeezing me. “I know. I do, too. I wish I could be here all the time. I hateleaving you. I imagine it’s going to be even harder once she’s here.”
The thought is painful. My daughter will be going through what I did as a kid. Except Fletcher is going to be a better dad than mine ever was. Even when he’s not physically here, he will be attentive and care about us. And there’s always FaceTime.
Fletcher adjusts so he can rest a hand over my stomach. “I can’t wait to feel her kick.”
“Same.” I rest my hand over his.
“You haven’t felt it yet? I was looking it up, and it looks like it could be anytime now.”
“A little, but nothing more than fluttering inside. I’m excited for when I can feel it on the outside.”
“Do you have any name ideas?”
“Nope. Nothing feels right on any of the names I’ve looked at.”
“What about Freida?” he teases, rubbing his hand soothingly over my stomach.
I laugh. “She’s not an eighty-year-old meddling grandma, Fletch.”
“Eh, we’ve got time. We’ll think of something. Did you guys set a date for a baby shower?”
I swallow harshly. After a lot of back-and-forth between my mom, Grace, Dottie, and Zoey, we have finally picked a date. Of course, the real holdup was my mom choosing when she had to forfeit her weekend dinner plans with her friends. It was rough, but Grace—with my approval—put her foot down, picked a date, and told Mom that if she wanted to be present for the shower, that was the weekend it was happening. I haven’t been involved with any other planning besides approving the invitation designs and a few random things from Grace.
I, of course, got a mouthful from my mom.
“Why couldn’t we do it on a Friday evening so she could fly back Saturday morning in time for her plans?”
No matter what we do, it’s always going to be a fight.
“Yeah,” I say. “March fourteenth. Your mom will be here that weekend, and then we will go to your game on Sunday.”
At least that part was easy. Knowing I get to spend the weekend with Dottie afterward and go to a game with her makes things easier.
“Sounds perfect.”
