Baby on Board

Lowest of the Low

"I'm not a woman, obviously, but if you had done that to me," Mick begins, sighing dramatically and shaking his head at me. "I'd rip your balls off, shove them down your throat and watch you choke on them. You are the lowest of the low, Fletch."

It had been a while since I'd heard Mick say my nickname in that tone of voice; before Lottie, it was the tone he'd take whenever he found out that I'd rooted and booted another woman. Very much like how my mother would scold me when I was a kid, Mick even had that disappointed 'tut' down to a tee. As long as he doesn't deploy that, I think I'll be alright. 

"Why would you take her on such an amazing date, build up her hopes and then just take her home after?" He asks, his lips pursing as he gets ready to tut at me. Then that dreaded noise comes. Tut, tut, tut. "Shame on you. Shame."

I frown. "She doesn't even want to marry me. We've had this conversation. Den thélei na me pantrefteí." 

"That's all Greek to me," my best friend grumbles, stating the obvious. Moving my infant daughter from one of his hips to another, he raises his La Petite take-out cup and sips on his Americano. "But really, what the fudge was your thought process on that again? I'm amazed that Lottie only relegated you to the spare bedroom. I'd have kicked you out and slapped a restraining order on you."

For the second time, I explain to Mick how my date night with Lottie played out. 

So, I met her at the house, dressed in my best suit and was gobsmacked, as always, to see how stunning she looked. When I instructed her to put on her best dress, I should have made sure that she didn't try to stop my heartbeat in the process of looking that breathtaking. After I got over the shock of seeing Lottie, we rode in the car to the London Eye. I had booked the entire thing for a private dining experience, announcing the plan only as we pulled up and made our way to the capsule. 

Lottie was speechless when she saw what I had planned and started to cry immediately. I think they were happy tears, although they were kind of ugly, happy tears. It got even worse when we stepped inside the capsule and Lottie saw the dining table. I almost panicked that we had to abandon our evening. And after I'd gone to so much effort to make one of Lottie's dream dates come true. Honestly, that woman could be ungrateful at times. 

When the ride finally started, Lottie composed herself enough that she could carry on a basic conversation, even if it meant that sometimes she'd giggle like a schoolgirl and bat her lashes at me. I couldn't complain, though, because I can't get enough of her when she's flirtatious like that. 

As part of the package of hiring the London Eye capsule, we stalled at the top for ten minutes. Lottie shifted uncomfortably in her chair and started to hyperventilate as I began to ask her a few questions. Like, what did she envision for our future together? Were we to have more children? If so, how many did she want? Would we always live in the house we have now or would we need a bigger place? If one of us ended up in hospital, who would our next of kin be? What if one of us died, who would inherit everything? I needed more assurances, I said. 

Lottie was nodding along emphatically. There's only one solution, really, I said. I agree, Lottie replied. We need some legal reassurances, I continued, before adding, I think we need to speak to a lawyer and have some paperwork drawn up so if something happened, like death or a break-up, we and the kids are protected.

"You're a muppet, pal," Mick scoffed, interrupting my story yet again. The first time I replayed all this, he would stop me after every single word I said, asking me if I was of sane mind. The more he asked, the more I was beginning to think that maybe I was insane. "I cannot believe that you said that you needed reassurances just in case you broke up."