Well, now I have and the level of awkwardness has skyrocketed. We’re both fixated on our food, dressing it just so and paying a ridiculous amount of attention to proper condiment placement.
Certain that my chipotle mayo is spread evenly and the pickles are far, far away from everything else on my plate, I proceed to eat my lunch. Awkward I can handle. A cold cheeseburger? Hell no.
We eat in relative silence, with the occasional perfunctory lunch conversation sprinkled in. He asks for my pickle, I steal his ranch dressing.
I’m just about to tell him that we are adults, and we can handle this situation. That there’s no need for stilted small talk and covert sauce maneuvers. My wanting to see him naked again does not need to remotely figure into this little mission we completed for Elaine and Simon.
Yea, I’m just about to say all that when our phones simultaneously buzz. I check mine, just as he palms his. And I have no doubt we’re looking at the same message.
Simon: Good news—the baby is fine! We even heard the heartbeat. The Force is strong with this one, no doubt. But… Lainie’s in rough shape. Can you guys swing by for a few minutes? I’ve got a favor to ask.
Molly: Of course—anything you guys need. Such good news about the little one!
Ev: We’re on our way. And I’m glad to hear my little niece or nephew is doing great.
“You good, or do you want a few minutes to finish up?” Ev asks.
“No, I’m fine. And I want to head over there and see what’s up with Elaine. Sounds like she might be dealing with this for a while.”
“That’s the feeling I get, too,” he says, as he lays some bills on the table.
“Here, let me—” I reach for my purse.
He smiles, as if he knows something I don’t. “No time, gorgeous. Let’s hit the road. You still driving?”
“Always.”
“Fine by me. You’re in charge of the wheels. I’m in charge of the bedroom.” He smiles
“Bold of you to assume you and I will ever be in a bedroom together again.”
“Bold of you to assume we can only have sex in a bedroom.”
We get to Simon and Elaine’s to find E camped out in the living room. She’s nestled on the couch amid blankets and pillows, and she’s got a side table filled with books. If it weren’t for the ghostly, hollow look on her face, I’d envy the girl.
“Sweetie!” I take a seat beside her and wrap her in a gentle hug. “So, good news about the babe?” I prompt.
The guys join us, and Simon shows us one of those grainy ultrasound pics. He’s beaming just like a proud dad-to-be should. As is expected, we ooh and ah over the blurry lima bean shape, as though we can even make sense of the image.
“Baby Walker is in perfect health. All is good where that’s concerned. The heartbeat was strong, and Dr. Sutherland was really pleased.”
“That’s the good news,” Elaine chimes in and squeezes Simon’s hand. “The other side of it is that I have a condition called Hyperemesis Gravidarum.”
“Which,” Simon interjects,” is morning sickness on crack.It’s unrelenting. It poses no immediate threat to the baby, but it’s wreaking havoc on Lainie. The doctor wasn’t happy with her fluid levels or weight loss, so we’re going in twice a week for fluids. And she’s on bed rest for the foreseeable future.”
“I’m allowed to walk around, though. Bedrest sounds a little Victorian. Let’s call it homebound.” E smiles.
“Yeah, that sounds like you’re on house arrest,” I tell her.
“Pretty much. Just the thought of going into the office drains me. And I can’t keep most food or drink down, so it’s best for everyone if I stay here for a while.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll miss Tall Steve, Wayne, and Harold, but, somehow, you’ll pull through.”
“Ha! Speaking of Tall Steve, do you have a ream of paper for me?”
“You know I do.” The bag is by the door.
“Ok, so catch me up here. Is Tall Steve the guy I saw leaving your office today?” Ev asks.
