Fortuity

Chapter 7

We had a doctor appointment that proved that I am in fact, pregnant, with a very healthy baby. I'm exactly sixteen weeks. I woke up way earlier that Tyler, and I've been craving brownies, so I went to the store and bought ten boxes and tons and tons of eggs and oil.

I need brownies so badly.

It's five in the morning and I just got back from Walmart.

I'm ripping open boxes and boxes of brownies, and I bought ten mixing bowls and ten spoons.

My long hair is tied in a bun.

I've been taking such quick showers and wearing such loose clothes. I had changed pant sizes weeks ago because I gained weight.

I'm showing and I didn't even realize it.

My boobs are bigger, and now that I've thought about it, I've gained weight, I've been craving, I've been tired, moody, crampy, irritable, and not in the mood for sex.

I thought it was because I was depressed.

I'm not tired, so I dump each pack of brownies in the bowls and I start mixing in everything, and I pour them into pans, and then I fit them in the oven and turn on the timer.

I start cleaning up, washing the bowls and putting them away.

I clean the spoons and toss the rest in the trash.

I clean the entire kitchen, scrubbing everything clean, and then I feel nauseous, so I go into the bathroom and puke, and then I have to pee, so I pee too, and then I flush and brush my teeth and wander back into the kitchen.

The dishwasher is on and I've turned on every light in the house, even though the sun is up and the light is seeping into the window.

I want some pickles and barbeque sauce.

I hope we have some.

I dig through the fridge, and find a huge jar of pickles. I fish it out, along with the Sweet Baby Rays barbeque sauce, and then my eyes land on the orange juice.

Oh shit.

I need me some of that.

I get the carton out of the fridge, and I get a bowl and I pour the barbeque sauce in it. I put the bottle back in the fridge and put all the full sized pickles on the plate. I don't bother with a glass for the orange juice. I put the empty jar if pickle juice back in the fridge and then I climb up on the counter. My hair is up and sticking up in every direction. I'm sitting in a 32C cup bra that my boobs are spilling out of, and a pair of black spandex.

I grab a pickle and dip it in the barbeque sauce. I take a bite of it.

Shit, that's so fucking good. I drink some of the orange juice, excited, and continue eating my pickles.

I'm so hungry.

It's around seven now, and the brownies start beeping.

I fish them out of the oven, setting them on the counters, savoring the scent of brownies and my pickles and my barbeque and orange juice.

Tyler comes walking into the kitchen, eying me.

My belly is showing freely, and if I wore a tight shirt, you'd be able to tell I'm pregnant. A pickle is sticking out of my mouth, and barbeque sauce is on my mouth, probably touching my nose. I swallow the bit of pickle left, and then I sip the orange juice, straight out of the carton.

Tyler looks around at the multiple pans of brownies.

"I made brownies." I smile.

"That's great, sweetheart." He says carefully. "What're you eating?"