Read Online Pregnant Pause by Han Nolan - Free Book Online

from Jen. He looks across the table at me and sees my eyes are filled with tears—so much for me ignoring the bitch. Lam stands up and climbs over the seat. Then, without saying anything, he grabs his bowl, comes around to stand behind me, kisses me on the head, and sets his bowl down next to mine. "I'm not hungry. You have this. For our baby."
    I look up at Lam, and he leans way over and kisses me again. On the lips. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world," he says, looking right at Jen. "And you're not fit to sit at the same table as my wife." He touches me on the shoulder. I don't want the others to see how grateful I am, so I stare down at my food and jam some cereal into my mouth.
    "I've gotta get ready for the testing. See you at lunch. Love you." He squeezes my shoulder and I whisper back, "Love you," because I can't say it any louder. I'm too choked up. Now I remember why I fell in love with Lam. When it's us against the world, he always makes sure we win.
    ***
    I hate crafts. I
really
hate crafts. I try to learn how to knit, and Leonardo encourages me by saying that I should learn so I can knit a baby blanket or booties for the baby, but I can't do it. I've got ten fingers, and they're all pinkies as far as using them for any kind of craft goes. I'm useless teaching knitting or helping the kids with it, and they know it. Then the sailboats need glue, and the glue stinks so bad it makes my head hurt. I know it can't be good for the baby. Most of the morning I sit on the steps outside the crafts hut rubbing my head. And this is the easy stuff.
    Mid-morning I see Banner walk up from the lake with a group of girls following her and whispering to each other. Banner doesn't see me because she's got her head down and her hair hanging in her face.
    "Hi, there, Banner!" I call out. "That was a blast last night, huh?" I say this partly because I want to make sure she enjoyed herself, and partly to see if she plans to accuse me of molesting her. I don't know how I think I'm going to figure that out, but maybe her expression, if she looks at me, will give me some information.
    Banner does look up. First she glances at the girls behind her, then she smiles at me and waves. "That was really fun," she says. "I'm glad you'll be teaching dance this summer. Maybe it will be fun for a change."
    "Yeah, right," I say, and wave her away. I see the girls snickering behind her and notice that Banner must have sat down on a freshly painted bench somewhere because the back of her beige shorts has a forest green butt-print on it. I think to call her back, rescue her, but I don't, because half my mind is caught up with what she said: "I'm glad you're teaching dance." Maybe it was only some whiny little girl who said it, but I have to admit, it feels nice to kind of be wanted—or at least appreciated.
    After lunch I ditch the crafts hut and just kind of hang out wherever—my cabin, the latrine, the woods—wherever I won't get caught. In the woods I hear kids singing the camp song that begins with the line, "I left my fat on a tired ol' log, a tired ol' log, a tired ol' log," and I laugh and think about the camp T-shirt with the eggplants with tape measures squeezing their waists. I figure this has to be the corniest place I've ever been. It really is the pits. I wonder if I can ditch working in the crafts hut and the dance hut all summer without getting caught, or, if not both, at least ditch the crafts. Dance has got to be better than knitting and gluing blocks of wood together. That is, as long as I don't have to wear a leotard.
    Since I managed to skip out on doing crafts all afternoon, I'm in a decent mood when I get back to the cabin just before dinner. Lam is already there slouched down on the couch, and I go and snuggle up against him and study his face.
    He looks tired. He's got bags under his eyes that look like they could hold a month's worth of laundry. He's pale, too, especially his lips. I remember my mother fainting once