Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Monique gave a mini lecture on the importance of connecting breath to the rhythm of pain. Aaron, Lena, and I shared a wide-eyed look as we settled in for our first lesson. The thirty-week mark was a good time to start Lamaze…unless, of course, it was the week before Christmas and my firm’s holiday party was the next day, and my parents were expected to arrive during the weekend. Of course, babies didn’t care about convenience, and if Lena delivered earlier than expected for some reason, we wanted to be prepared.
The doctor had assured us that Lena and the baby were progressing nicely. She’d navigated pregnancy with ease throughout her second trimester, but the baby had gotten a lot bigger over the past week or so. Apparently, sleeping was a challenge and getting kicked in the ribs was a new normal.
Aaron and I loved it. We were suckers for any and all feedback regarding our unborn child.
“He was awake all night. He might be a party animal.”
“She seems to love pasta. You might have a carb queen on your hands, Dads.”
Maybe it was weird, but we’d gotten into the habit of talking to Lena’s stomach. Aaron had read somewhere that there were significant benefits of babies hearing their parents’ voices in the womb, such as early bonding, stress reduction, and language development.
Aaron was also determined to teach our kid Spanish.
“Hola, bebé. It’s Papi. I love you, mi cariño,” he said to Lena’s stomach in between a breathing break.
Or Spanglish.
I grinned at Lena. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” she admitted. “The holidays are kicking my booty. We’ve been busy at the studio, which is pretty normal. But I swear I’m taking it easy at home. Did I tell you that my mom wants to move in with me next month?”
Aaron glanced up, his hand splayed over Lena’s belly. “That’s not such a bad thing, is it?”
Lena wrinkled her nose. “I suppose not. I think we’ll drive each other nuts within a week, but I might need her as we get closer to the due date. I just don’t know what to expect.”
We nodded. None of us knew what the hell we were doing. We did the research, asked friends and family for advice, but the unknown was daunting. There was a chance we were guilty of overplanning and overthinking things. For instance, the baby shower was scheduled for the week between Christmas and New Year’s in spite of being told that baby meet-and-greet parties were all the rage.
“Everyone wants to see the baby, honey,” my mom had insisted at Thanksgiving. “I really think you should postpone it till March or April.”
“We can do that…eventually. But we don’t want a huge houseful of guests during flu season with a newborn infant at home,” I’d explained.
She’d grudgingly agreed that made sense, and then she’d dropped the Mom-bomb. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for anyone sniffly while I stay with you boys when the baby comes.”
Aaron read my mind.
He pulled a yikes face as he sat up, ghosting his hand over Lena’s belly. “Matt’s mom wants to stay with us after the baby’s born. A lovely offer, but the open-ended terms need to be negotiated. Right, lawyer hubby?”
“Definitely,” I huffed as my cell buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to silence it, and did a double take at the name on the screen. McElvy, Holstead, and Reyes. The firm was familiar, and yet I couldn’t figure out why.
“Everything okay?” Aaron asked.
I smiled. “Yep. What were you saying about my mom staying for two months?”
Aaron faux fainted on the mat much to Lena’s amusement as well as a few parents-to-be in hearing distance.
Monique smirked. “Allez, Daddy needs zee breathing, eh?”
We all laughed, but hey…this new skill set might come in handy.
I waded through the dense verbiage on my screen with a fine-toothed comb. The contract for licensing rights to a blockbuster soundtrack from the eighties was due this afternoon. A remake was in the works, and while everyone agreed it was Hollywood’s worst kept secret, confidentiality and punctuality were crucial on our end.
And…I didn’t want to leave anything important on my desk over the holidays.
Buzz buzz
“Ron McElvy from McElvy, Holstead, and Reyes on line one, Matt. He claims this is his third call this week,” Colleen reported through the intercom. “This is his first call to the office, though.”
“Uh…”
Why did that sound familiar?
“Shall I take a message?”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Yeah. I need to concentrate on what I’m doing. Is Hughes still here?”
“Affirmative, but if you want to catch him, let me know. He’s leaving for the airport in an hour.”
“Yes, please.” I spent another thirty minutes reading the dry-as-dust content and pressed Send just as my partner, Trey Hughes, knocked on my door.
Trey was a handsome Black man in his midfifties—or was he older? I couldn’t remember. Some days it felt as if I’d known the guy forever. I’d worked for Hughes as an intern before he’d taken me on as an associate, and he’d been my biggest advocate when I was a candidate for partner. Now we collaborated closely with our LA office regarding studio projects.