Baby on Board

Ann Summers

"Fuck me, I am so horny right now."

Dropping my pen against the table, I look up and lock eyes with Martha. I can feel my cheeks burning as embarrassment from hearing that confession sinks in but Martha's face was horrified, her mouth hanging open and her eyes bulging out. 

'What the Hell?' Martha mouthed at me before turning to face Charlotte. "Um, Charlotte, I hate to say this, you know, because I myself am an oversharer of personal information," my daughter hesitantly speaks. "But not even I would go so far as to say that."

When my embarrassment subsided, I finally braved a look in Charlotte's direction. She was lying on the couch in a summery dress that fanned around her, her legs propped up on the armrest and one arm dangling over the edge. Her other arm was draped around her stomach, where her hand gently grazed at her bump. Her face, however, was twisted in thoughtfulness as her lips twitched into a deep frown. 

"But seriously," Charlotte continued, ignoring Martha's words of advice. She moved slightly in her position so that she was now gazing at us from the other side of the living area. "I think I've hit that stage of my pregnancy. I swear down, I haven't been this fucking horny since... Sophie and Daniel's wedding."

Martha sniggered. "You mean, not since you pounced on my dad and got impregnated?"

Groaning, I close my laptop and drop my head against the cold aluminium finish, wondering what the probability of the earth opening up beneath my feet and swallowing me whole is. Unlikely, is what I determined but I still held out a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe... 

I remember the night of Sophie and Dan's wedding quite clearly, even if I'd been on the wrong side of tipsy. One minute we'd been waving the newlyweds off, the next thing you know, Charlotte's pushing me into some guest bedroom, throwing me on the bed and tearing my clothes off me. Now, I like to be in charge when I'm getting that down and dirty between the sheets but I'll tell you something, Charlotte Delaney certainly knows how to dominate. 

Still, even with that memory of her taking the lead in my mind, I can't help but want to die right now. 

"Martha, will you please go to your room?" I plead with her. 

"No, I think I'm ok here, thanks," she replies. Getting up from her seat, she walks the three steps it takes to get to the freezer, takes out a tub of raspberry sorbet, finds a spoon and then retakes her place opposite me. "You're seriously batshit crazy if you think I'm walking away from this show. Don't let me interrupt. Wait, unless you two are about to reenact your night of passion, in which case, cut off ears, take my eyes and throw me into the Themes because I do not need to see or hear that shit."  

Narrowing my eyes on my daughter, I try my best to be intimidating. "Martha, we are not going to be doing any such thing-"

"That's disappointing," Charlotte sighs from the couch. 

"-But I think Charlotte and I need to have a chat," I finish, pointedly looking over to the woman in question. She smiles at me and then raises her hand into one of those coquettish waves that make her look demented. Ignoring her come on, I roll my eyes and then place my attention back on Martha. "Please, go to your room."

Martha, being the stubborn little madam that she is- and I hate to say that she's a lot like me in that sense- she shakes her head, pops the lid of her sorbet and digs her spoon into the dessert. Taking her first mouthful, she grins at me and then looks over at Charlotte. Deciding that she was being serious about sticking around, I rise up from my seat and bridge the gap between Charlotte and me, until I'm standing in front of her.