French Fry (The French Twist Series Book 3) Page 2

  He shook his head. “You will be beautiful.” He kissed me quickly on the tip of my nose and headed to the bathroom for his long-awaited shower. I could only imagine what would go through his head while he was in there. I knew he was putting on a brave face for me, since I have definitely cornered the market on insanity. His job is to be the sane one of our relationship.

  I resumed my fetal position on the bed and tried to rest. I was going to have to make some serious changes to my life. I wasn’t entirely kidding about the need for a personality transplant. I desperately wanted to rid myself of my neurotic (bordering on psychotic, if I’m being truthful) tendencies, but this was much easier said than done.

  But as hard as the task may be, it wasn’t fair for this poor baby not only to have to live inside the body of a crazy person, but also to have to endure being raised by said crazy person. I couldn’t do that to an innocent creature. I had to pull myself together and be the grown-ass woman I knew I could be.

  There you have it. I would have to put my own needs aside and think about the needs of someone else. A VERY important someone else. Someone who will look to me every day of his/her life for love, guidance and, above all, sanity. It was high time I grew a pair and dealt with my life in a mature and organized fashion. And if that failed, I could always see someone about an exorcism…

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, things looked a little better, but not much. Louis and I had done our best to enjoy our last night in Hawaii, spending a lazy afternoon at the beach followed by room service on the balcony. Now I was facing the rather unpleasant task of packing my suitcase. I have a tendency to bring far too much clothing (a girl needs options) and always buy too much at local souvenir shops, which meant it was physically impossible to close my suitcase. What made this even worse was my husband’s need to lecture me about it.

  After ten minutes of trying to cram my things into my suitcase, I flopped down on the bed in frustration. I couldn’t get the fucking suitcase to close. I had tried sitting on it, lying on it, shoving it against the wall and finally, yelling profanity at it (a new personal low for me). Nothing worked.

  Louis smirked at me. “What did I tell you?”

  Hell no. He was not starting with me. Not after what happened yesterday. Whoa! Rein it in, Sydney. Louis is only teasing you like he always does.

  He sat down on the bed next to me. “There is no way you are getting your suitcase closed.”

  I put my hands over my eyes and sighed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  His smile faded. “Are you OK, Syd?”

  I laughed bitterly. “Sure. Fine. I ended my honeymoon by finding out my husband of eight months has knocked me up. No biggie.”

  Louis stared at me silently.

  I continued my rant. “We barely know each other!” This may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but I was on a roll. “And now I have to call my fucking family and, ONCE AGAIN, endure their incredulity that I have raced ahead to the next stage of my life before anyone is ready!”

  Now Louis was gawking at me with his jaw hanging open. Seriously, it was dangerously close to the floor.

  I felt my eyes bugging out of my head. “And to make matters worse, you’re giving me crap about my damn suitcase!”

  Louis got up, walked over to my suitcase and started taking things out of it.

  Confused, I walked over to him. “What are you doing?”

  He turned to me slowly, as though he were approaching a wild animal. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I am putting some of your clothes in my suitcase so we will be able to make our flight.”

  I slapped my palm against my forehead. “I’m sorry, Bluey.” I hiccupped as the tears spilled down my face. “I’m…really scared.”

  Louis turned to me, gently wiped my tears and held my face in his hands. “I’m scared too, Syd.”

  I held my breath. “You are?”

  He sighed. “Absolutely terrified.”

  I giggled and jumped into his arms. We clung to each other desperately and were only willing to part when we heard a knock at the door.

  Louis put his forehead against mine. “The bellhop is here for our luggage. Will you answer the door while I fix this?” He gestured to the disastrous mess my suitcase had become.

  “Sure thing, Bluey!” I skipped to the door, tripping on an errant pair of my shoes on the way. When would I learn not to tempt my klutzy tendencies?

  Twenty minutes later, we were safely installed in a shuttle on our way to the Honolulu airport. Louis held my hand as I gazed out the window, lost in my scattered thoughts.

  It was no joke when I said that I was freaked out about telling my family about the baby. Let’s have a quick recap, shall we? First, I had to tell them I had gotten engaged to Louis after knowing him for six weeks. For someone with my pathetic romantic history, they were rightfully concerned about my desperation to get married—which could have led to a willingness to provide a green card for a handsome stranger in exchange for a ring.

  Less than five months later, I had to tell them Louis and I were getting married eight months early to avoid his deportation. No doubt they were hoping we would have had every last day before the originally planned wedding to be sure we were meant to be together for the rest of our lives. But nothing in our relationship has ever gone according to plan.

  This fact should give me reassurance of my family’s resilience when it comes to shocking news. But it doesn’t. Especially since Kate, who has been with her husband, Nick, for eleven years, had a baby six months ago. And my older brother, Charlie, and his wife, Zoe, who have also been together for eleven years told us LAST WEEK that they were expecting a baby.

  This can’t be happening. Damn my father! He is going to laugh himself into oblivion about this. He had to make some snide comment to me during our wedding reception about the possibility of my getting pregnant too soon. Not that his comment has anything to do with what happened. Even I am not crazy enough to think my father’s sick sense of humor could somehow cause a baby to magically appear in my uterus. We all know how this happened. It would just be so much easier if there were someone to blame. Someone other than myself.

  Wait a minute. I was already pregnant when he made the comment. Oh my God! I was pregnant at my wedding! And I drank three glasses of champagne. Son of a bitch! Could I have caused irreparable damage to my baby? I already felt like a terrible mother.

  I felt the familiar pit of anxiety forming in my stomach. What was I going to tell Louis? What would the doctor say? How could I be so irresponsible? I can’t breathe! I can’t…

  SYDNEY! Reel yourself back in. Do you think you’re the first woman to imbibe alcohol whilst unknowingly pregnant? The important thing is now that you know you’re pregnant, you will take good care of yourself. First and foremost on this list is combatting your usual out-of-control panic attacks. These monumental worry-fests must become a thing of the past.

  I rested my head on Louis’ chest, focusing only on the sound of his heartbeat. When I felt the familiar calm wash over me, I resolved to make learning how to control my fears my top priority when we arrived back in California. Alas, my biggest fear was currently residing inside my own body.

  Five days and one positive pregnancy blood test later found me lying in bed staring at the ceiling. It was Saturday morning and Louis was out of bed before me. Something was definitely off. Other than extremely busy times at his job, this simply does not happen in our household. What was he up to?

  As the fog in my brain cleared, I could hear the sounds of a very jubilant Louis on the other side of the door. He was speaking a mile a minute at an extremely loud volume, which he is wont to do when he is excited. Of course, I couldn’t understand a word he was saying, since a) he was speaking in hurried French and b) I was barely awake. The most important question was, who was he talking to this early in the morning?

  I gingerly got out of bed and padded into the living room. Louis was pacing the length
of the room, beaming like he had won the lottery. What was going on?

  I approached him slowly, trying to wake up enough to understand the reason for his jubilation. After a few minutes of intense concentration I was able to discern that someone was having a baby. Holy crap! Who could it be? Louis was quite happy, so I doubted either of his unwed cousins, Monique or Sophie, had gotten themselves knocked up. If this had been the case, he would be on the first flight to France to beat the hell out of the responsible party, since he thought of these two women not as his cousins, but as his sisters.

  While wracking my brain trying to determine the identity of the pregnant woman, cold hard reality sent chills down my spine. I was the pregnant woman. With this grand realization, I threw myself down on the couch and buried my head in my hands. This defeated gesture finally alerted Louis to my presence. He quickly said his goodbyes and hung up the phone.

  I peered at him through my fingers. “So you told your mom?”

  “I did.”

  I waited expectantly. “And?”

  He grinned. “She is ecstatic! She is hoping to have a granddaughter. My aunts are hoping for a girl too, but my cousins think it is best to start with a boy…”

  My brain shut down in an attempt to protect itself from implosion. How many people did he tell without me?

  I cleared my throat. “Bluey?”

  “Yes, mon coeur?”

  I held my breath for a moment. How could he be so sensitive in some instances, but so clueless in others? I had to try very hard not to snap at him.

  “Um, what made you think it would be a good idea to tell the majority of your family without waiting for me?”

  He pursed his lips. “It’s not like you speak French, Syd.”

  I knew I was being sensitive, but I was still puzzled. “No one even wanted to congratulate me?”

  He sat down next to me. “Of course they did. I told them you were resting and I would give you their good wishes when you woke up.”

  For some reason this really pissed me off. I was the one carrying the baby. I was the one who was going to get fat, cranky and gassy. I was the one who was going to have to push a tiny human out of a hole which was clearly NOT big enough for its giant head. Therefore, I should be the one to get the damn congratulations!

  I took a deep breath. Try to be rational, Sydney. I realize what a foreign concept this is to you, but give it a whirl. Louis is just as scared as you are. If he has managed to find some excitement to drown out the overwhelming sense of fear, then let him hang on to it. Please. Don’t be selfish now. There will be plenty of time for that later. Like when you’re too fat to move on your own. Perish the thought!

  I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bluey. I’m...”

  He began to stroke my hair. “Nervous? Overwhelmed? Excited?”

  I chuckled. “Take your pick.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “When are you going to tell your family?”

  I thought about it. “In a year or two?”

  He tapped my nose gently. “Something tells me they will notice a baby. Kate is a pretty smart girl, you know.”

  I bit my lip. I had already told Kate about the baby, but had kept this tiny detail from Louis. Of course I had told her! She is my sister! I couldn’t wait for the results of the blood test! Kate is the one who helps me keep my shit together. Telling her was a necessary step to preserving my sanity. But Louis didn’t need to know this…

  In an attempt to assuage my guilt, I kissed him tenderly. “Give me a few minutes to wake up. I’m going to need every last one of my mental faculties to handle my dad.”

  Louis smirked. “Shall I go make you some breakfast?”

  I smiled broadly. “Thank you, Bluey. That would be amazing.”

  The smile stayed on my face as I watched my husband get up and head to the kitchen. Maybe this whole pregnancy thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. A girl could get used to this level of service.

  After an hour of avoidance, I knew it was time to make the fateful call. I nestled myself under a comfy blanket on the couch and dialed my parents’ store, wondering which one of them was going to pick up first. It was usually my dad since my mom was in charge of sales in their pottery painting studio and he spent most of his time in the back, managing the large kiln.

  My heart felt like it was going to burst from my chest. How could I possibly do this? They were going to be grandparents for the third time in a year and a half. Could they handle such a baby windfall? They weren’t exactly spring chickens.

  “Duck! I was wondering when we would hear from you again!”

  I smiled at the familiar nickname – even though he gave it to me because he said I resembled a duck when I pouted. Despite my outrage at the name, I was smart enough to realize (at the grand old age of seven) my good fortune to have him in my life. My biological father had run off with his secretary and never looked back, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. My dad came along a year later and filled the gaping void in all our lives. When he married my mother, we gained not only an amazing father, but three grown stepsisters. I felt like I had hit the jackpot!

  The memory made me chuckle. “Hi, Dad! How are you?”

  He laughed. “Oy vey! Your mother is embroiled in planning for her second grandchild. She has a new idea every two minutes, which is driving your poor father crazy!”

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but there was nothing I could do about it. As Louis had told me a short while ago, it isn’t like I could hide a baby, even if we did live three thousand miles from my parents. Kate would totally rat me out, since she lives only two miles away from us. Stupid perfect older sister.

  I laughed nervously. “Well, I’m sure she’s thrilled to have a grandchild so close by.” Charlie and Zoe lived thirty miles away from my parents. Not too close for comfort, but at a reasonable enough distance for quality childcare and all the love my parents could give.

  “She sure is, Duck. You and Louis will have to move back to New York when you decide to have children. You need to be closer to France anyway, so Simone has a hope of seeing her grandchildren.”

  I decided to cut him off before he launched into his lecture about how California was going to fall into the ocean. He had beaten this particular argument to death.

  I nervously cleared my throat. “Um, Dad?” This request was going to seem all too familiar to him.

  “Yes, Duck?”

  Deep breath, Syd. You can do this. “Would you get Mom on the phone, please? I have something to tell you both.”

  My dad sucked in his breath. “Again?”

  I hung my head. “Again.”

  I pulled my head away from the phone just in time. He yelled for my mother to pick up the phone. If I hadn’t been so terrified, I might have laughed imagining how her customers reacted to his vociferous display.

  I heard my mother’s voice come on the line. “Teddy! Don’t bellow in front of the customers!” Uh oh. She sounded annoyed. Not a good place to start from.

  My father sighed. “Relax, Lyn. Your customers enjoy my colorful personality.” He chuckled boisterously at his perceived witty comment.

  Suddenly another voice came on the line. “Hi, Sydie!”

  Oh no! What was Charlie doing there? I didn’t plan for this. And if Charlie was there…

  “Hi, Syd!”

  Zoe was there too. Yikes! They had me on speakerphone! Wonderful. My humiliation would be broadcast for the entire store to hear.

  OK, Sydney. There is no reason to panic. Tell your family your, um, unexpected news and move on.

  I tried to smile to keep myself from crying. “Hi, guys! How are you?”

  After a few minutes of hearing about Zoe’s cravings and fairly easy pregnancy, my father asked the dreaded question.

  “So, Duck, what do you want to tell us?”

  I paused. I can do this. I HAVE to do this.

  Charlie laughed. “You’r
e not pregnant, are you, Sydie?” Everyone joined in his laugher but me.

  Once their mirth died down, I had my opening. “Yes, Charlie. Yes, I am.”

  Silence.

  I could picture the four of them gathered around the speakerphone in my dad’s office staring at each other and miming disbelief. I found myself resentful of their ability to do this, wishing I could see their faces to gauge their reactions.

  I sighed. “Any comments?”

  My dad was first to speak. “You know, Duck, I was only joking when I mentioned getting pregnant…”

  “Do you think I planned this?” I spluttered. “I’m absolutely terrified!”

  My mom’s instincts finally kicked in. “Calm down, Syd. Everything will be fine.”

  Tears started spilling down my face. “Thanks, Mom.” I sniffled. “I guess I’m a little ahead of schedule. Again.”

  My dad chortled. “You got that right!” I heard the thwack of my mother hitting the back of his head in protest of his thoughtless comment.

  Zoe jumped in. “Don’t worry, Syd! You’re only a little behind me; we can do this together.”

  Her sincerity only made me cry more. “I’m sorry, Zoe! I didn’t mean to steal your thunder. This was a total accident! I’m so sorry.” With the number of times I was apologizing to people lately, I felt like I should carry a recording around and hit play when needed.

  Charlie assumed his big brother voice. “Syd, there’s no need to apologize. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but everything WILL be fine. I promise.”

  Twenty minutes later, my parents, Charlie and Zoe had me somewhat convinced that I wouldn’t be a terrible mother. My mom was already planning a number of gender neutral knitting projects, my dad was going to shop for a crib (according to Kate’s extensive specifications), Zoe was going to send me the links for all the pregnancy websites she had signed up for and Charlie promised to be the best uncle in the world.

  I said a tearful goodbye to Charlie and Zoe, promised my mom I would call again soon and found myself left on the line with my dad.