Between The Sheets Part 10

Mel drags through the entry way and flops herself on the sofa next to me. Instantly, I cue in to her sadness. She looks worse than I thought. Her eyes are swollen and she looks deathly tired. "What's wrong?" I sit up to ask her.

"Who's that?" she whispers, pointing to the phone.

"My brother."

"What do you mean, what's wrong?" Ty shouts in my ear. "Is everything okay? What's wrong with Melissa?" His use of her full name is not lost on me. And if he could see her, he'd know he was right on the money in using it.

"Shh." Mel puts her index finger up to her lips. "Don't say anything."

Oh, f.u.c.k. Between these two and their secrets, I might just combust. Since when am I a vault?

"Hey, Ty. Mel just got here. And since you hogged her for two weeks, it's my turn. I'll talk to you later."

Before I can hang up, he says, "Tell her I miss her." Oh, gag me.

I tell her anyway.

"Tell him I miss him too and I'm gonna pack my puppies and be on my way back tomorrow."

Ty chuckles. "I heard her. Tell her I'll be waiting."

"Alright, alright. You can talk about the details on your own time. Bye, big brother."

And before he can say another thing, I tap the "end" b.u.t.ton on my cordless phone and turn to my friend. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says, her voice rising to a squeal. "Why? How are you? I feel like it's been years."

"Don't you nothing me, Melissa. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy. Looks like you've been crying your eyes out or you had an allergic reaction to something like the Fresh Prince in Hitch." I stare her down, raising my right brow to show her this is serious business.

She actually clicks her tongue at me with a b.i.t.c.h snap of her neck. "And you you don't give me that look." don't give me that look."

I give a click and a snap right back. "Then spill."

"Fine. I just left my mom's house." I practice my silent routine again. Twice in one day is killing me. When has anyone known me me to keep my mouth shut? Yeah, that's right. Never. "Okay, so right now, I'm talking to my best friend, right?" I nod. "We had a little heart to heart about this guy I'm seeing. And how it's a little complicated being that it's a long distance thing. I got a little emotional as you can see." She gestures to her face with her two index fingers. to keep my mouth shut? Yeah, that's right. Never. "Okay, so right now, I'm talking to my best friend, right?" I nod. "We had a little heart to heart about this guy I'm seeing. And how it's a little complicated being that it's a long distance thing. I got a little emotional as you can see." She gestures to her face with her two index fingers.

"Melly, it hasn't even been a week since you left him." I know my brother is a good looking guy but really? Is it all that serious? Who am I to talk? I'd be looking just as pathetic as her if I was in the same situation.

"I know. It's crazy huh. I just miss him. You were right when you said we should be careful. I thought I could handle the casual thing but I guess I can't." With her dainty elbow perched on the back of a sofa cushion, she rests her head in her hand with a loud breathy sigh. "There are just so many 'what ifs' happening and it's kind of killing me. I'm not one to be patient. After Nick left, I never thought I'd be so needy. We were married for years and I never felt the kind of desperation to see him that I feel right now for Ty. He was never home and I never missed him. But with Tyler, it sucks a.s.s waking up every morning without him."

Oh goodness. She's in this one deep. So is he. And it sounds like neither one of them is talking. Dumb. How the h.e.l.l do you have a relationship-long distance or otherwise-without communicating. "Have you told him how you feel?"

She shakes her head. Her eyes turn gla.s.sy again and a tear threatens to spill over her eyelids smeared with black eyeliner. "What am I supposed to say? Hey, Ty. The s.e.x is great and all, but now I'm thinking I'd like a little more of a commitment. The guy's a free spirit. He's been on his own his whole life. And now, me, Miss Divorcee is going to try and tie him down."

"I doubt he'd think of it like that," is all I say. I'm really itching to scream, he's moving home so don't worry or shed one more tear. But, I can't. s.h.i.t. What have I gotten myself into?

"I'm pathetic, huh." Her bottom lip plumps out and she bats her long lashes at me, looking like a sad little Betty Boop with her big brown eyes all misty.

"Nah." I reach out and pat her hand. "You're just a woman in love." I wince as the words come out but it's too late to take them back. Ty would beat me with a stick if he thought I coaxed her into saying it, or feeling it. Not that she needs any coaxing.

A smile stretches across Mel's face, and I'm happy to finally see it. "I am," she says with a content sigh. Her eyes have gone from weepy to plain dreamy. If it wasn't my big brother that put that look in her eye, I might get all googlie-eyed with her.

"Hey, how about you go visit him again? He can't come home for a while. You may as well go up there. I'll even take care of the little fur b.a.l.l.s for you."

She holds up a finger to scold me, "Hey, don't you call my babies fur b.a.l.l.s." She's always defending those tiny rat-looking dogs. If I was looking to get a dog, a Chihuahua would not be at the top of my list. A lab or even a c.o.c.ker spaniel would be much better.

"Fine," I hold up my hands in surrender, "they're not fur b.a.l.l.s. But I'll watch them anyway."

"Actually, my mom is going on a camping trip and she invited them to come along." She says this with a completely straight face even though it sounds ridiculous.

"Oh, really. She invited them. And what did the Mer Der pair say? Do they want to go?" I can't help but mock her. This is why a throw pillow comes flying at my face. "Sorry, you make it sound like she's taking the grandkids on vacation."

This makes my friend laugh. And laugh. A little too much laughing. I'm funny but it wasn't that good of a joke. So I toss a pillow at her.

"Woo," she lets out a whoosh of air. "That was funny." She slaps her knee. "So where's Matt?"

Her face is red but she's finally stopped with her goofy chuckle. "He went to play basketball with some of his friends. The thought of listening to girl talk sent him running for some testosterone backup."

"It's not like he's never listened before and kept our gla.s.ses refilled." She smiles. "Wow, can you believe it? I've been here for quite a while and we haven't had a drink yet. We're losing our touch."

"About that," here it goes, "I'm gonna be on the wagon for another eight or so months."

A giant O forms on her mouth, and her eyes shoot wide open in surprise. "Sh.e.l.ly Fuller, my best friend since I was just a little girl. My only sister from another mister. Are you trying to tell me something?"

Now, it's my turn to turn on the waterworks. All I can do is nod.

In seconds, she has flung herself across the sofa and is squeezing me to death. I can hear her sobs and the shaking of her body in my arms.

"Oh, Shel," she blubbers. "I'm so, so happy for you." She backs away and gazes down at my belly, before looking up at me. "Congratulations, mama." And then she hugs me again. "Details," she says, as she scoots herself toward her original seat. "I want all the details."

Matty is already in bed with an ereader in his hand when I saunter in with a late night snack. A small bowl of Captain Crunch should hit the spot. If not, there's always seconds. Or ice cream.

"Got a little hungry, huh?" A little smirk plays on his face.

My knee goes down on the mattress first. He reaches out and takes the cereal from my hands so I can't get comfortable without making a mess of our bed. When I'm all settled, he gives it back after shoveling a bite into his own mouth. "I don't know if I'm really hungry, or if I'm just being mental. I feel like I'm craving food all the time now that I know we have a little guy growing in here."

With his free hand, he reaches over and places a palm to my belly. "Honey, you were always hungry before. I hate to break it to you but this is nothing new."

"Whatever," I say through a mouthful of Crunch Berries.

"I take it everything went well today. Mel sent me about five different texts telling me congrats and to make sure I take care of you while she's gone."

I shake my head just thinking of my best friend's concern. "She sent me quite a few too. She told me not to let you blow in my hooha. Who does that? I don't think you've blown in my cooch, have you?"

Matty fumbles his electronic book and it falls to the floor with a thud on the frieze carpeting. "No, I've never blown inside it." He chuckles. "Now, I can't stop thinking about a puffer fish." He scratches his head with a smile as I struggle to keep my food in my mouth.

"A puffer fish?" I say, when I finally swallow. "I'm going to have nightmares about my v.a.g.i.n.a inflating like a balloon."

He laughs again. "Not that I want to, but why can't I blow down there."

I go on to tell him that Mel read somewhere that it could cause an air embolism. I bet it's one of her grandma's old wives' tales. Matty just raises a brow at me, shuddering while I give him the details. Great, I'll be lucky if I ever get him to go down there again. Like I really want my husband to think about a bloating fish and the possibility of killing me when he's staring down my whispering eye. Thanks a lot, Mel.

"What about your brother? Did you tell him?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"He's a guy. He's happy. You don't have to worry about texts from him."

I set my empty bowl on my nightstand and flip the light switch to dim my side of the room. My husband reaches over and flips his off as well. Like clockwork, we're snuggled together like two spoons in a silverware drawer. A light sheet covers us as I settle my booty into his lap, and his arms wrap around mine. His soft kisses on my bare shoulder ignite fireworks up and down my body.

"By the new year, we're going to be parents," Matty murmurs against my neck. "I can't wait to see my baby in your arms. You're going to be the most beautiful mother I've ever seen."

My nose tingles and tears sting my eyes with emotion. "And you're going to be the best daddy ever." I tilt my head back and kiss the tip of his nose. "And the hottest."

"I love you, Sh.e.l.ly."

"And I love you."

Chapter 12

The constant ringing of the phone in my ear isn't promising. He hasn't answered yet so maybe he doesn't miss me as much as I miss him.

"Melly!" he calls out, breathless. "You there?"

"Yeah." He's still breathing hard, and boy does that do wonders for my lady love.

"Sorry, babe. I was just getting out of the shower and I heard your ring coming from my room. And then I had to dig around in my bed to find it." The sound of his voice is slowly getting back to normal.

"Ring?" Curiosity killed the cat but I can't help asking. "What ring?"

He chuckles. "Well, I kinda set a new ring tone to your contact info. That way I know when you're calling and I don't let it go to voicemail."

Or so he knows when he doesn't need to take the call. d.a.m.n it. I'm giving myself some bad mojo. Tyler isn't like that. "I'll bite. You already know the FNL theme song comes on for you, so what do you have for me?"

There's that laugh again. I wish I could see his face. I bet he's smiling like crazy, proud of himself with whatever gag song he has picked out for me. "Heard of Ludacris?"

"Duh. I'm a teacher. I'm not dead. I know who he is. Lil Wayne too. And Drake. And all the rest of them. I guess you'd be surprised to know they're all on my iPod."

"Wow, look at you. My very own hoodrat."

I bust up at that one. "Hoodrat, hoodrat, hoochie mama." Oh, if he only knew how true that statement is. My stomach does a flip in response so I try changing the subject. "Shut up. I'm surprised you you know who he is." know who he is."

"What? Just because I'm an artist and hate to wear shoes, you think all I listen to is the Counting Crows?"

"No, Dave Matthews Band too."

"Ha!" he shouts, along with a round of laughter. "You're priceless, Mel."

"Well, c'mon. The song?"

"Oh, I almost forgot. It's My Chick Bad My Chick Bad." A little snicker comes through the phone.

"My chick hood?"

"My chick do stuff that your chick wish she could," he says with such rap star flair.

I crack up at his Luda impression. "Yeah, I bet."

"Honey, you are are one talented woman." one talented woman."

"How would you like to get another taste of my talents?" I saw a window and I took it. My teeth clinch and I hold my breath for a response.

"I'd love one. Tell me you're already in the car and on your way up here." His tone peaks with the excitement of a little boy.

"Not quite. But I don't think I can wait three weeks. I may be on my way up tomorrow." There's a long silence as I wait impatiently for him to reply. It doesn't come. "Hey, it was just an idea. I don't have to. I can wait."

"It's not that, Mel. I want you here. But I feel like I'm being a selfish a.s.s making you do all the commuting. I don't want this to be one-sided and for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"It's just a little driving. No biggie. If you want me there, I'm there. If not, then I'll stay put. It's your call." My fingers instinctively cross as I wait, yet again.

Only this time, it's less than a second before he says, "Do you have to wait until tomorrow? Come now."

My earlier conversation with Tyler makes this very awkward appointment a little easier to handle. Having my mom at my side helps too. The waiting room in this OB office is very modern with neutral colors for the most part with a pop of color here and there. It reminds me of a model home, with all new decor that's so precise you're afraid to touch anything. I glance at the wall paintings and they remind me of Ty. Not that they look anything like his work, but art alone, anywhere and everywhere makes me think of him.

My right leg bounces up and down as I scan each of the women. Some are with their significant others. Some are married based on their ring fingers. Some not. One is probably with her mother like me. I want to stand up and shout, "No, my baby doesn't have a deadbeat dad. He just doesn't know yet or he'd be here," but I don't. It feels weird though, seeing these couples together and I brought my mama. Now, I really do feel like a hoodrat. Like everyone is judging me.

Oh, f.u.c.k that. I'm over thirty years old, if I want to have a baby on my own, I can. And I'd probably do a better job single than some married parents. So, bite me is what I say to any judgmental a.s.ses in this room.

"Melissa," a woman in beige scrubs with a sage-colored patchwork print calls out my name.