Blackmail

Contractions

I finally find a maternity dress that looks cute on me. Lili has her own dress draped over her arm as we stand in the check-out line at the mall. Another light contraction hits me and I do my best to hide it.

I've been having contractions ever since we left the house three hours ago, but I didn't want to worry Lili.

Plus, I don't need to worry until my water breaks.

"Where are we going next?"

"I wanted to run to the craft store."

Her eyes go wide and scan my body head to toe.

"In your condition? You really want to run in your condition?"

I smack her arm and she starts laughing. Lili's laughter is always contagious. Soon, we're both laughing like the ridiculous teenagers we are.

It's finally our turn to check out. I put my dress up and so does Lili. I take out my wallet and hand her the money for my dress. It takes a few minutes before we are on our way out to the car, bag in hand.

Ten more minutes and we're walking into the craft store. Lili follows me back to the wooden letters, basket on her arm.

"First and middle or just first? Maybe just initials?"

"Where are you putting the letters?"

"Above their respective cribs."

"I'd say first and middle and just move the letters above their real beds when they are older."

"Are we going to paint them too?"

"Paint them how?"

"I was thinking each twin could have a specific color. Like the gender norms have assigned pink to girls and blue to boys. I was thinking purple for the first baby and pink for the second."

"What about pink and green? Like watermelons! Since you keep referring to your stomach as a watermelon."

"I already have the perfect name picked out for green!"

I know that sounds a little odd, but it's true. That 'boy' name with a girl name attached sounds very pretty and would match green perfectly. For what reason, I am unsure. I just know it will.

"Great! What about the name for the pinkish red?"

Is that how we are going to refer to the twins now? By colors?

"Not yet. I think I have to hold her first to get to know her."

"Understandable. I'll grab the paint. You grab the letters."

She ducks into the next aisle and I start grabbing the letters I need.

'U'. 'L'. 'E'. 'R'. 'S'. 'I'. 'J' 'E'. 'O'. 'N'.

"Got the paint! Ready to go?"

"Yep."

"You sound like Nate every time you say that."

"Shut up."

"You like him, don't you?!"

"I wouldn't be dating him if I didn't like him."

"I think you like-like him!"

I approach the cashier, setting all the craft supplies, including a pack of brushes I grabbed off a rack, onto the belt.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The noise is so annoying.

Each and every items makes the same annoying noise.

Beep.

Beep.

Another contraction hits, stronger than the last one. This time, I am unable to hide it.

"What's wrong, Celia?"

"Nothing. Just some contractions that's all."

"What!? We need to get you to the hospital!"

"No. I'm not going until my water breaks."

"Whatever, but I'm calling Kaleb and Nathaniel!"

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Any guesses as to what the baby's name is going to be!?