Page 24 of Pregnant By the Playboy

“Do you have a preference? Boy or girl?”

“No, but it’s easier to imagine having a girl. It was just my mom and me growing up, so that’s what pops into my head.”

Me and my little girl against the world.

But with Vince. And an extended family. And no money worries.

“I imagine us having a girl, too,” Vince says. “Because my niece is the only baby I know. But I’m fine either way.”

“The one thing we are not having is a gender reveal party. I know showy stuff is your thing—”

“You seem to have a lot of preconceived notions about me,” he murmurs, “but I agree. No gender reveal party.”

“What about a cake smashing party for our baby’s first birthday?”

“A cake smashing party?”

“You buy a pretty cake and take lots of photos as your child destroys it. Apparently adult cake smashing parties are a thing, too, if you’re interested in doing that yourself and making a mess with buttercream.”

We look at each other and laugh. We’re still laughing when the doctor comes out to get me for the appointment, and for a moment, it feels like we’re a real couple.

* * *

When I walk out of the doctor’s office, Vince next to me, I’m feeling good.

“She did a blood test to confirm the pregnancy,” I say, “and she ordered my twelve-week ultrasound plus other tests and referred me to an ob-gyn. We also talked a bit about pregnancy in my old age. Since, you know, it’s a geriatric pregnancy.”

“Say what?”

“I’m over thirty-five.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

“How old did you think I was?”

He shrugs. “My age. I’m thirty-three.”

“Well, I’m thirty-six. You can add that to the list of things you know about me. I’ll be thirty-seven by the time the baby comes.”

“Hardly geriatric. You want to grab a quick lunch before I drive you back?”

“Yeah, that would be good.”

“There’s a Chinese place nearby. I was looking at the reviews on Yelp.”

I shake my head. “I went there once. The servers are too friendly. Made me suspicious. And sure enough, it wasn’t that great.”

He laughs. “I know what you mean. What do you want?”

“The falafel shop near here is pretty good.” I look at my watch. “I should be getting back to the office.”

“You have to eat first. Or did you bring a lunch?”

“I didn’t.”

“Falafels to go, then.”

I lead him to the falafel and shawarma place. I get a falafel sandwich with everything on it, including lots of pickles—for some reason I’m in a pickle mood today. I really am quite hungry, so I start eating my sandwich right away, but I put it aside once we get into Vince’s car.