Page 53 of Consummation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #3)

Thirty-Three

Kat

“Blood pressure looks good,” the nurse says, removing the cuff from my arm. “Sit tight for a bit and Dr. Gupta will be right in.”

“Thank you,” I say. I exhale and squeeze Josh’s hand. “I’m nervous.”

Josh kisses my forehead. “The kumquat’s gonna be fine,” he says softly. “Hey, Sarah Cruz. Hit us with some ‘Would You Rather?’ questions. Kat’s nervous—we gotta distract her.”

“Okay, Josh Faraday,” Sarah says. “But under the circumstances, I’m gonna keep it family-friendly.”

“Boo!” I shout.

“Yes, Kat,” Sarah says sternly. “Playing X-rated ‘Would You Rather?’ in this crowd would hurtle us into TMI territory on a bullet train.”

I laugh. “Probably true.”

“Okay, then,” Sarah says. “Would you rather be hideously ugly but extremely wealthy, or spectacularly good looking but dirt poor?”

We all ponder that for a moment.

“Jonas?” Sarah asks. “What say you, love?’

“In which of these scenarios do I have a better shot at snagging you?” Jonas asks.

“Doesn’t matter. I’d love you rich or poor, gorgeous or hideous.”

Jonas shrugs. “Then I don’t care. You pick. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Josh shoots me an annoyed expression, and, in reply, I pretend to stick my finger down my throat.

“Is it your life’s mission to make me look like a prick?” Josh asks Jonas. “Because I was about to say rich and ugly. ”

“Aw, come on, babe,” I say. “Good looking and poor, all the way.”

“No, babe. If I’m rich and ugly, I can wine and dine you, which means I’d still bag you. Best of both worlds—I’d still be rich and I’d still have you.”

“You’d bag me even more if you were dirt poor but looked the way you do, I assure you.” I wink. “ If you wanna wine me and dine me when you’re dirt poor, just make me one of your orgasm-inducing PB&Js.”

“ Kat ,” Sarah chastises, putting her hands over her ears. “Family friendly, remember?”

“Okay, okay,” I say. “Ask another one, Sarah.”

“But this time don’t lob a softball at your husband that makes me look like a total prick, Sarah Cruz,” Josh adds.

“I don’t think it was Sarah’s question that made you look like a total prick,” Jonas says.

I look at my watch and shift on the examination table, making the wax paper crinkle underneath me. “Where’s the doctor?”

“Okay, Kat. Listen up,” Sarah says. “Would you rather have balls hanging from your chin or a two foot tail that wags every time you feel excited?”

We all laugh at the ridiculousness of the question.

“Hey, I thought these were supposed to be hypothetical ,” Josh says, and we all laugh again.

“Okay, okay,” Sarah says. “That was a dumb one. Here’s a good one: would you rather be a wildly successful artist who makes totally uninspired crap you abhor creating, or a starving but brilliant artist who makes art that feeds your soul?”

“Wildly successful artist who makes total crap,” Josh says without hesitation.

“Yeah, baby!” I shout, high-fiving Josh. “Me, too. Totally.”

Sarah and Jonas look at each other, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Are you joking?” Jonas asks. “You’ve only got one soul , for fuck’s sake.”

Sarah high-fives Jonas. “You tell ’em, baby.”

“There you go again, making me look like a prick,” Josh says.

“Aw, screw them,” I say. “Let Jonas and Sarah be soulful arteests while you and I make oodles of cash off our bottle-cap-pipe- cleaner sculptures. And while they’re eating Kraft Macaroni & Cheese in their rat-infested hovel in SoHo, surrounded by their frickin’ art , we’ll head to Cabo on our private jet and ‘feed our souls’ while making love on a white-sand beach. ”

“You’re a fucking genius, babe,” Josh says.

“You truly can’t keep it family-friendly if your life depended on it, can you, Kat?” Sarah says.

“Oh, come on, Cruz. That was PG-rated at worst,” I say. I look toward the door. “Where the heck is Dr. Gupta? She doesn’t normally take this long.”

“Okay, listen up, Party Girl,” Josh says. “Would you rather be the star player on a football team that loses every game of the season or warm the bench on a team that wins the Super Bowl?”

“Hmm,” Sarah says. “Play on the losing team, I think. What do you think, my love?”

“I think I’d rather sit the bench on the winning team,” Jonas says. “Because, ultimately, I’d aspire to become the head coach—so this way, I’d have the opportunity to watch and learn from the best.”

We all burst out laughing.

“What?” Jonas asks. “That’s my honest answer.”

“Oh, Jonas,” Sarah says. She touches his cheek tenderly and her diamond rings sparkle under the lights of the examination room. “I love you.”

“Okay, I’ve got one,” I say. “Would you rather be stuck on a desert island for the rest of your life all alone or with someone who talks incessantly?”

“I’d rather be stuck on a desert island with you , babe,” Josh says sweetly.

“Aw, that’s lovely, honey—but you gotta pick one of the choices.”

Josh raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I did pick one of the choices.”

Everyone bursts out laughing, even me, just as the door to the examination room opens.

“Oh, wow,” Dr. Gupta says. “There’s a party going on in here.”

“Hi, Doctor,” I say. “You remember Josh—my baby-daddy?”

Josh blanches. He hates it when I call him that, which is why I keep doing it.

“And this is my best friend, Auntie Sarah, whom you’ve met before,” I continue. “And Sarah’s husband, Uncle Jonas, who also happens to be Josh’s brother.”

Dr. Gupta shakes everyone’s hand and introduces us to the technician who’ll be conducting the sonogram. “So are you ready to see your baby?” Dr. Gupta asks.

We all respond enthusiastically.

I lie back on the examination table and the technician spreads some gel on my baby bump. “My heart is racing,” I say, putting my hand on my heart. “I’m really nervous.”

Josh leans down and kisses my forehead. “The kumquat’s gonna be fine.”

The tech puts the wand on my belly and moves it around and, suddenly, we’re met with the unmistakable image of an actual baby .

“Holy crap,” I say. “That’s a baybay !”

“Oh my God,” Josh says. “Definitely not a kumquat.”

“Quite different than the first sonogram, isn’t it?” the doctor says. She begins pointing out various body parts, all of which, she says, look perfectly formed and right on track.

“Oh, thank God,” I say, sighing with relief. “I was really worried I’d hurt the poor thing with too much partying before I knew.”

“Well, this should put you at ease, then,” the doctor says, patting my hand. “So, do you want to know the baby’s gender?”

“Heck yeah,” Josh says. “That’s the dangling carrot we used to lure Uncle Jo Jo and Auntie Sarah to this shindig.”

“Do you already know?” I ask.

“I sure do. The baby’s legs are spread wide and I’ve got an unimpeded view.” The doctor pauses for effect. “Any guesses?”

“Girl,” Sarah says calmly.

The doctor nods. “Yep. Congratulations. You’re having a baby girl.”

Tears spring into my eyes.

“Oh my God,” Josh breathes. He leans down and kisses me. “I love you, Kat.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper into his lips.

“I was hoping for a girl so much,” Josh says.

I’m shocked to hear Josh say that—don’t all big, athletic men secretly hope for a boy who’ll grow up to play on the Seahawks one day?

But when I look at Josh and see the moment he’s sharing with Jonas, I suddenly understand completely—this baby’s a tribute to their late mother in heaven, a baby girl to keep their mother’s memory alive.

Josh and I haven’t discussed baby names yet—in fact, several times I’ve told Josh I was too freaked out about the booze and pot thing to think about baby names until I was sure everything was okay—but now that I’ve seen our baby girl growing inside me—and especially now that I’m witnessing the expressions of emotion on both Josh and Jonas’ faces, there’s only one name I’d even consider.

“Grace,” I blurt.

Josh’s face lights up. “Grace,” Josh repeats reverently, nodding. He bends down to kiss me. “Thank you.”

I mumble “of course” into Josh’s lips, but my words are incomprehensible.

“Grace Louise?” Josh asks, pulling away suddenly from my mouth.

“Perfect,” I say, smiling.

“Aw,” Sarah says. “That’s so sweet. Gracie Louise Faraday.”

“Hey, Doctor,” Jonas says, putting his arm around Sarah. “Are you sure? I’ve heard stories of people painting a room pink based on the sonogram and then giving birth to a boy.”

“Oh, I’m positive,” Dr. Gupta says. She points to the sonogram screen. “See between her legs there? Definitely no penis. The baby’s made it really easy for us by spreading her legs wide.”

Josh snickers.

“ Don’t say it ,” I warn sharply, slapping his arm.

“Don’t say what?” Josh says, grinning.

“You know what.”

Josh chuckles and kisses me tenderly. “Babe,” he says.

“I would never make a crass joke about my baby girl making it easy just like her hot momma does for me every night—because that would be rude and inappropriate. But, just so you know, if I ever do compare our beautiful daughter to her gorgeous mommy in any way, shape or form, I’ll always mean it as the highest compliment, no matter what. ”