“It’s the pimple, right?”
“What?”
Carrie looked in the rearview mirror and pointed to her forehead. “This! This pimple! It’s gross and you are grossed out tonight by it! Admit it.”
“It’s the pimple,” I said and drove her home.
*********************
Dad surprised us again. Two times in two days. I had been ready to steal that lab coat, put on dark rimmed glasses to look older, find an empty container and save the day by jerking off into it just in time for the doctor to take my still-hot cum and deliver it to my mom’s waiting egg.
That is to say, I was about to drive Mom to the clinic and see if an opportunity presented itself.
That’s when Dad walked in again. “Talking about me?”
I said “DAD!” and Mom said “Mark!” at the same time. Then in unison, “What are YOU doing home?”
“I live here. When I’m not working, that is. But, seriously, I thought I should be taking you to the clinic and then we’ll go out to celebrate!” Dad looked at me and added, “Just the lovebirds, Skipper!”
I wondered for the thousandth time if he thought I liked being called “Skipper.”
“Really, Mark, Scott can bring me. You don’t have to bother.”
“Wouldn’t hear of it. This is the big day. I’ve got a very good feeling!”
That was one out of three who had a good feeling.
I’ll never forget Mom’s face as she left with Dad. It had that same look as when she found out she had lost the baby.
“Good luck, Mom,” I said before she closed the door. But, I felt that all the luck was going to be of the other kind.
***************************************
Their appointment had been at 4:30. They got home about eight o’clock.
As soon as I heard the door, I left my room. Mom had said she knew it if had worked in the past. I looked for that knowledge in her face. All I saw was sorrow. I didn’t even ask the question, or any question.
“Your Dad drank a whole carafe of wine at Bertello’s Restaurant. He ordered it before remembering a pregnant woman can’t drink. I drove us home.”
“Well—it’s a celebration!” Dad’s face, on the other hand was smiling, and red from the alcohol. “This is a special night we’ll remember. The night a new life was conceived!”
Dad looked so happy. Mom stared at me and must have seen her own disappointment reflected. “I’m going to put your father to bed before he falls down or goes to sleep out here and I have to lug him in there.”
“No lugging,” Dad sang. “Not until nine months from now!”
Mom took him by the arm and guided him toward their bedroom. When she passed me, she said in a low voice: “New plan.”
I was playing a video game on the living room TV when Mom came in and sat next to me.
“Put on a news channel or something with people talking. And put it up loud so we can talk without Dad hearing us. You know, even drunk, he has rabbit ears.”
There was a special panel of experts talking about some bill that shouldn’t be passed by congress. I thought that would be all right.
“Scott, you know how I said I could tell?” When I nodded, Mom continued. “It didn’t work. I can feel it.”
“Let’s wait and see before—”
“I know, Scott. I know. This was my last chance. Our last chance. If not today, then never. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”