i’m pregnant.

On Monday, I was actually busy at work. Dave and Diana are going on a business trip next Monday through Wednesday and someone is going to have to run the office. So Diana forwarded me the how-to manual on the office operations and I took some time to read through it. After a few hours I started feeling like my eyes were crossing from reading so much. I pulled out my phone to check Pinterest, SnapChat, Facebook, Twitter, etc.

Mark had texted me a listing for a condo he thought I would love and asked if I wanted to see it soon. It was a gorgeous updated high rise, but it was a studio and I have way too much shit for a studio. I told him to keep looking.

I logged onto Facebook and the first thing that came up on my newsfeed was a location check-in from Jessica.

“Lunch with my favorite people,” she said and tagged three people including Brady. I almost dropped my phone.

It was from five minutes prior so I knew they were probably still eating. I couldn’t believe it. Brady assured me that he was no longer speaking to her. Why were they going on lunch dates together? Clearly, he lied and they probably never stopped talking or hanging out. Before I could stop myself, I dialed Brady’s number on my office phone. I had to get to the bottom of this ASAP. 

He didn’t answer and I assumed it was because he didn’t recognize the number. I called him again from my cell phone and it went to voicemail after only two rings. RUDE. He obviously ignored my phone call on purpose. What if it was an emergency? I could be dying! I felt my body shaking with anger. 

I texted him, “I’m pregnant.” and sat my phone down to continue working. I giggled when he called back three minutes later (which is actually a long time to wait to check in on your unborn child’s mother). 

I obviously didn’t answer and instead texted, “Can’t talk, I’m super busy right now.”

“You’re pregnant?” Brady asked immediately.

“Yes,” was all I said back. I felt kind of evil for lying to him, but I would tell him the truth after I got some answers about Jessica. He needed to be punished. 

“Can you please step out or something so we can talk?” Brady asked.

Before I could tell him no, my office phone rang and Diana asked me to meet her in Dave’s office so we could go over some things. They spent an hour going over the troubleshooting guide just in case anything crazy happens while they are gone. I mean I get it, they want to be prepared, but I’ve run the office plenty of times while they both were out. Things will be fine.

After that, Dave wanted to take us out for drinks and obviously we didn’t object. I was so thirsty for free drinks that I completely forgot about my phone and telling Brady I was pregnant. By the time we got back to the office it was 4:30. I had two missed calls and several text messages.

“Answer the phone please.”

“Reese.”

“Seriously. I’m freaking out here.”

I felt terrible and decided I would come clean and give him an amazing blow job later.

“Let’s talk later,” I texted back and wrapped up for the day.

Brady called at around six when he got off and asked to come over. I said sure. When he got there, I buzzed him in and opened the door when he knocked.

“You’re off early today,” I said, hugging him.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

We pulled away and I gave Brady my most innocent smile. I hoped he wouldn’t be pissed.

“Are you really pregnant?” he asked me.

I waited a few seconds before saying, “No.”

Brady let out a deep breath. “Then why did you say you were?” He sounded frustrated – almost whiney – but not particularly mad. 

“So you went to lunch with Jessica? You said you haven’t talked to her. Sounds like you guys are great friends to me,” I said in an accusatory voice. 

“A lot of people went, not just the two of us. I didn’t talk to her.”

“Okay.” I wanted to press the issue, but I didn’t want to come off as an insecure brat like Saturday night.

“Why did you lie, Reese? I told my brother and I’m sure he’s already told my mom.”

Oops.

“Sorry,” I said meekly. I actually really did feel bad. His mother would probably disown him.

“It’s okay,” Brady sighed, but I knew it wasn’t.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Jessica tagged you on Facebook and you guys haven’t talked in three weeks?” I asked.

“Kind of, yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her in three weeks, right?”

“Reese, it’s hard. We work primarily on the same floors and she’s very persistent. I do my best to avoid her.”

What?

“So you guys never stopped talking?” I clarified.

“I told her that you would prefer if she and I didn’t talk anymore and at first, she respected that. The only time she would talk to me was about work related matters. Then she started back asking how my weekend was and stuff like that. I can’t be rude.”

I nodded. So is that why Jessica added me on Facebook – so she could tag Brady in statuses and brag that they are still friends? Cool. 

“Do you want to get dinner?” Brady asked and I nodded. I slipped on my Prada flats, grabbed a jacket and followed Brady out the door.

We went to a bar and grill near my apartment and got beer and appetizers to share. By the time I finished my first beer, Brady was on his third. I hope I’m not driving him into a drinking problem. I know I’m a handful.

When we got back to my apartment I put a movie in and we snuggled.

“Reese, I don’t want Jessica to continue to cause conflict between us,” Brady said out of nowhere. “I’m not interested in her romantically or sexually at all.”

“…Okay,” I started.

“I love everything about you. I only want you right now,” he continued.

Right now? What did that mean?

“I wish you would trust my word on that. I think you’re still punishing me for not being upfront about her. Everyday you have a new issue with me and it seems like there’s nothing I can about it.”

When he said that I really felt bad. Brady completely trusts me and doesn’t seem to be guarding his emotions. At any moment I could rip his heart right out of his chest and stomp it to pieces. Isn’t he afraid of that? I am. That’s why I’m so guarded. But if he’s making himself vulnerable and I’m not, that isn’t fair.

So I’ve decided that I’m going to stop being a psychopath and let myself love him. I mean, I’m going to try. I think he deserves that much.

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bad news and good news.

On Wednesday morning I had an appointment with my gynecologist for my yearly checkup. I was actually anxious to know if 1. I was pregnant and 2. If I had contracted any stids. I wasn’t worried about any of that until I talked to Kendra. She has a way of making you think the worst about your situation.

“Have you gotten your period?” she asked me on Tuesday night.

“Kendra, I haven’t gotten my period in a year,” I rolled my eyes. She knows that.

“First of all, I don’t think that’s normal. Ask your doctor about that tomorrow,” she said. 

I rolled my eyes again.

“Second of all, if you don’t get a period, how do you know if you’re pregnant or not? Isn’t that scary?”

I actually haven’t had a pregnancy scare since going on birth control so I didn’t really have an answer to that. I guess I rely on the 99.9% effectiveness.

My gyno, Dr. Stringer, is a lanky flamboyant man who I would think is gay if he didn’t have photos of his wife and all his kids all over his office. After the nurse drew blood, I got naked and put on a hospital gown and waited for him in the examining room.

“Reese, darling,” he said, knocking on the door. He walked in with the nurse following him. “I was wondering when I would see you again. How have you been?”

See? What straight man says “darling?”

“I’ve been great. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” I said. Usually Dr. Stringer books appointments weeks and weeks out. Luckily since I’m a VIP patient (lol), I was able to get an appointment within a week. 

“Anything for you! Are we just doing your routine yearly checkup today?” he asked.

“Yes. And a pregnancy test,” I replied.

“Of course. Do you have concerns that you may be pregnant?” Dr. Stringer looked at me over the top of his glasses.

“No, I just figure we may as well make sure while I’m here.”

“Very well then.” He put his clipboard down then popped on a pair of latex gloves. “Lay back and spread them!”

The actual examine didn’t take long, but Dr. Stringer talked to me the whole time and made candid comments about my vagina which was really odd. He finally said he was all done and that he and the nurse would be back with some results in a few minutes.

While I was getting dressed, I started to seriously think about what I would do if I was pregnant. I feel like I know Brady pretty well, but not enough to have a baby with him. We would probably have to get married or at least engaged. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment. But on the bright side, at least he already owns an amazing condo and clearly has money to support his family. We would just have to evict Chris and turn his bedroom into a chic Pinterest-worthy nursery and hire a full time nanny/servant. 

By the time Dr. Stringer returned I was convinced that I was pregnant and trying to figure out how I was going to break the news to my parents. They only just found out about Brady.

“All right, Miss Reese,” Dr. Stringer said sitting on the stool in front of me. “I have bad news and I have good news.”

My heart began racing. Bad news and good news? Bad: I was pregnant, good: I didn’t have the clap? Or the other way around?

“The bad news is… You’re not pregnant. The good news is… You’re not pregnant!” Dr. Stringer exclaimed. It took me a moment to process what he said.

“Dr. Stringer!” I groaned. “Don’t freak me out like that!”

He chuckled. “All of your tests came back negative with the exception of a couple that will take a few days to process. If you don’t hear from us within a week then everything is good.”

So there went my dreams of a fabulous nursery with a chandelier imported from Spain. Oh well. I’ve been drinking and smoking so it’s probably for the best. 

After I left the doctor, I celebrated by getting froyo (with gummy bears and sprinkles #yolo) then going to the office. To be honest, I haven’t done much work at all the past week or so, so I figured I should probably get at least something done.

Except I spent the day avoiding Whitney’s emails and pinning pumpkin recipes. After work, I stopped by the boutique Preston works in to pick up a few items. Preston basically had me try on everything in the store until we decided on a dress, a sheer top, and a pair of leather leggings. 

After that I met Kendra for sushi. I was so excited to tell her that I’m not pregnant AND I don’t have STDs.

“So hopefully this is a lesson learned,” she said smugly after I shared the news.

“Well now that we are both STD free, I think we can continue what we were doing,” I said.

“Why would you do that? He could be doing the same thing with ten other women,” Kendra said, looking appalled.

“No he couldn’t. He’s not some player, Kendra. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Okay well do what you want. I’ve given up trying to give you advice. You always do whatever the fuck you want anyway.”

So that was the end of that. I love Kendra to death, but she’s just so judgmental. She always has to object to every single thing I do. She doesn’t understand that everyone’s life isn’t exactly like hers. It’s her way or you’re wrong/stupid. It’s draining. Additionally, how can she lecture me on something she and John do and have done for years? And by the way, I can’t believe we’re arguing about condoms. Ugh.

I went to Brady’s after sushi and immediately ran into Chris. I haven’t seen him since he walked in on me and Brady having sex and I was actually really not embarrassed. Oh well if he might’ve gotten a peek at my goodies. At least he got a nice show. 

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three generations of me.

My flight left Chicago at 3:30 on Friday afternoon so I just took the entire day off. Since Carly was off too she agreed to take me to the airport and we stopped to get lunch beforehand. I asked her about the wedding and she said that Chris invited her so she planned on going. Cool. Glad I was left out of those plans. We ended up getting margaritas and getting a little tipsy because why not? 

Except while I was using the bathroom at the airport I dropped my Eddie Borgo bracelet in the toilet after I peed and had to stick my hand in and fish it out. #notsorry and #dontjudge. 

Luckily I slept it off and felt great by the time we landed a little after 6:00. My parents were supposed to pick me up and I couldn’t wait to see them. I called my dad when I got there and he informed me that he was waiting outside my terminal, but my mom was shopping in the gift shop. Of course. I claimed my bag then went and met my dad. After we hugged, we spent twenty minutes looking for my mother. 

We finally found her coming out of duty free with two shopping bags in her hand.

“Oh my God! Look at my baby!” she cried and dropped her bags to hug me.

If there is anyone in the world who is more over the top than me, it’s my mother.

“Hi Mom,” I said.

She pulled away and gave me a once over. “You look too thin. Have you been eating?”

“Of course!” I beamed. Even if it was just my mom, I loved that someone was accusing me of not eating.

“And your hair is getting so long. You look so beautiful!” She hugged me again.

We headed outside and my mom said she had a surprise. I was so excited thinking it might be a Chanel bag or something that benefitted me. Instead, we got out to the parking lot and she led us to a brand new BMW X6.

“I got a new car!” my mom exclaimed.

“Why?” I asked. Her previous BMW was still fairly new and in great condition.

“Well, it was time and I’ve been eyeing this one. Isn’t it great?” 

I turned to my dad. “Daddy, you let her get this?”

My dad shrugged. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“When you got a new car, I got inspired. Isn’t it perfect? Get in!”

On the way home, she rambled on about all the features and how much she loved her new car. Super obnoxious. Didn’t she want to know about me?! I had so much to tell her.

Our house is in a planned community just north of downtown Houston and I was so nostalgic when I saw my childhood home – a modern but charming, 4/3.5 on a cul-de-sac. So many good ass memories there. I dropped my stuff off in my old bedroom which my mom has turned into her spare closet and makeup room. My dad told us he had an important call to make so he hid out in his little office while my mom and I sat around the kitchen island with wine.

“So I have a bomb to drop on you,” I said.

My mom gasped. “You’re pregnant.”

“No, Mom! God!” I scoffed giving her a dirty look. Of course that was the first thing she assumed. She is so dramatic.

“You’re moving back home?” she guessed again.

“No.”

“You wrecked your car?”

“No, Mom. Why don’t you just let me tell you?” 

“Okay, fine.”

I took a sip of wine to keep the suspense going a little longer. Then I said, “I have a boyfriend.”

My mom gasped louder than when she thought I was pregnant. “You have a what?”

“A boyfriend,” I repeated.

My mom looked at me and smiled, almost like she was proud. “Well, who is he? What’s his name?” 

“His name is Brady. He’s a pharmacist from Massachusetts,” I said. I felt so dorky trying to describe him. “Carly is dating his roommate which is how we met.”

My mom’s hand flew to her heart, like she was falling in love with him. “Do you have a picture?”

My favorite picture of Brady and me is one Carly took on the night we all got high. I wondered if my mom would be able to tell that I was blazed. Whatever. Even if she could tell, she couldn’t judge – she told me that she occasionally smokes weed when she goes out with her college friends.

I pulled up the picture on Facebook and showed her.

“Oh, he’s very cute,” she said. “Or should I say ‘hot?’ You look so happy!”

Oh, I was real happy that night. 

“How long has this been going on?” my mom wanted to know.

“Not long. But I’ve already met his parents.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? What are they like?”

“They’re okay. His mom is the CEO of a hospital and his dad is like a state rep or something. They didn’t like me after I told them I voted for Obama.”

“You voted for Obama?” my mom asked, giving me a disapproving look.

“No! I just told them that because I thought that’s who I thought they voted for. I didn’t vote at all,” I explained.

“Okay good.” She looked relieved. “I’m so excited, darling. Are you guys going to get engaged? Married?”

“I don’t know, Mom!” I shouted. “Why are you jumping to conclusions? We just started dating.”

“It’s becoming time for you to settle down, babe. That’s all I’m saying. Does your dad know?”

I shook my head. “No. And don’t tell him! I want to tell him myself.”

“Okay.” My mom pulled me into a hug. “I can tell you are so happy!”

We talked some more and caught up on life. I told her what’s been going on at work with Whitney and she told me to show that bitch who’s boss. Lol thanks Mom. Noted. She said she was going to have drinks with her friends and invited me, but I politely declined. I would rather stay home and watch Teen Mom 2 than get drunk with my mother. 

When my dad got off the phone we hung out in the den and talked for a bit. While we were talking I pulled up Facebook because I needed to make a status letting everyone know that I was in town for the weekend. I had a friend request from some person named Jessica and with all the makeup and filters going on in her profile picture, I didn’t recognize her at first. When I saw that Brady was our only mutual friend, I realized who it was.

BITCH. 

What made her even think she had the right to add me? It’s not like Brady and I are Facebook official, meaning she had to go dig to find me. Creep. I quickly accepted, but only so I could look at her profile.

I was mostly just looking for signs that she and Brady have hung out outside of work, but all I saw were pictures of her in her bikini. Ugh, she’s so thirsty for attention. Like we get it, you have a nice body. I thought about screenshoting her profile and showing Brady that she added me, but decided to wait and see if he brings it up. 

On Saturday morning, we planned on going to brunch with my mom’s parents. My dad and I got in the car and waited for my mom (who was going to sit in the backseat since she decided to take so long). He said that my mom told him that I have a boyfriend so naturally I threw a tantrum since my mom can’t keep her big mouth shut. He said that she told him not to tell me that he knew, but clearly my dad can’t keep anything to himself either. I refused to tell him anything about Brady since I was so annoyed with the two of them. 

By the time we got to brunch, I was no longer mad and I was so excited to see my cute little grandparents. My grandma is exactly like me and my mom – sassy and over the top. Just imagine there being three generations of me. My grandpa is more reserved and quiet and definitely enjoys being at home (unlike my grandma who is always out). When I was growing up, I was a tomboy (if you can believe it) and I would spend a lot of time doing outdoorsy stuff with my grandpa. I can’t believe I used to like, fish and hike and shit. Gross.

The first thing my grandma said when she saw me was, “Who is he?” 

So my mom told them about Brady as well. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m surprised. She also told my whole family that I got my period the day it happened.

My mom wanted to apologize for her big ass mouth so after brunch we went to the Galleria and spent a really unnecessary amount of money. I forgive her, but I definitely won’t forget.

While we were out at the mall Carly sent me a selfie of her, Brady and Chris that they’d taken at the wedding. Carly and Chris looked okay, but Brady looked so fucking hot and I realized how #blessed he is. And I am too (can’t wait to ride his gorgeous face again). 

On Saturday night, I made plans to go out with one of my friends from high school, Brittany. Brittany is that girl who you can party with every night, but not ever have an actual conversation with. Our friendship is so superficial. I don’t know anything about her except that her go-to drink is a Redbull vodka and we both wear a size 6.5/7 in heels.

Brittany and I went to a nightclub in downtown Houston where she had a table in VIP. Since she’s apparently some sort of Houston socialite (I don’t know of any full time job she has), we were surrounded by a ton of people and kept getting free bottles and drinks.

You guys know what happened next. The highlights I can remember: 

1. I saw a guy I messed around with in high school, caught up with him and let him know that he’s still hot, and we exchanged numbers. Apparently he has some sort of girlfriend though and she was not happy about our reunion. She called me a skinny tramp, but my drunk ass didn’t care. My girl Brittany however, knocked homegirl’s drink onto her lap and had her kicked out of VIP. Thanks Britt.

2. Someone threw a $100 bill in the bartender tip bowl. I took it.

3. I used the $100 to buy everyone Whataburger. Not proud.

4. I drunk dialed Brady and told him how much I missed him, sent him a picture of my tits from Brittany’s bathroom, tried to have phone sex.

On Sunday morning, Brittany woke me up at some ungodly hour. The thing about Brittany is she is so used to partying every single night that she is immune to hangovers. She insisted we go lay out by her pool with our friend Natalie before I had to catch my flight back to Chicago later. I ended up falling asleep by the pool and woke up because my mom called to tell me we were going to lunch.

So naturally I had to order a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Diet Coke to cure my hangover. I told my parents about Mark and the beautiful apartment I saw and my dad said that if I was seriously considering buying that he would help me. 

“It’s wonderful that you’re thinking like a grown up and putting your money toward your future,” he said and let me know that he could help with a down payment. Score! 

Then I finally told him all about Brady while my mom sat by smiling and nodding like a stage mom.

“Let me guess, he spoils you and gives you whatever you want?” my dad said in a mocking kind of voice.

Since we were just discussing how mature and independent I was becoming, I denied the accusation. “Of course not.”

“Then why are you dating him?”

Which was cute.

Anyways, until next time, H-Town. ✌️

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what an impression.

I spent the night with Brady on Sunday night and brought over my things I needed to get ready to meet his parents. I decided to go for a Blair Waldorf inspired look so I wore a structured black baby doll dress, Michael Kors Mary Jane pumps and a delicate gold watch.

We were supposed to meet his parents at 2:30 north of the city and I started getting really nervous while I waited for Brady to get ready. I went to the kitchen and broke into the wine cellar to help ease my nerves. I really hoped they didn’t want to talk too much.

I was three glasses in when Brady was finally ready to go. I grabbed a bottle of water and we were off.

“So what are your parents like?” I finally asked on the car ride there.

“Well, they are both very much invested in what they do. They are really into politics and current global events. It’s funny, they make time to watch the news together everyday, usually as soon as it comes on at 5:00 AM.”

Okay, I obviously know nothing about any global events so I hoped that wouldn’t come up.

We pulled up to a small restaurant right off the lake and I hoped that the bottle of water and almost hour drive had made most of the wine wear off. I wanted to take the edge off, but not be a hot mess. I felt fine when we got out of the car and gave myself a pep talk as we crossed the parking lot. This wasn’t a job interview. This was Brady’s parents who were probably just as cool and chill as he is.

We were almost to the door when a couple walked out of the restaurant. I recognized them from Google as Brady’s lovely parents.

His dad looked like he was straight out of a St. John’s Bay ad with an olive green polo, plaid shorts and boat shoes. He had a head full of salt and pepper hair, the same baby blue eyes as Brady and a pair of sunglasses hanging from a string around his neck. Brady’s mom was significantly shorter and had a powerful looking strawberry blonde bob. She wore a pair of knee length khaki shorts, a wrappy blouse and leather flip flops. Overall they looked pretty modest, but I know they have to have money. 

“Hi son!” his mom exclaimed and I watched their affectionate reunion awkwardly.

When they were finished they all turned to me.

“This is Reese,” Brady said.

His mom smiled and stuck her hand out for me to shake. Suddenly I got really intimidated and I rarely get intimidated. Could she tell that I was sitting on her son’s face just hours before? “Nice to meet you, Reese!”

“Nice to meet you as well,” I said, shaking her hand back. 

“How are ya?” his father asked shaking my hand. We made eye contact and he winked at me and suddenly I really liked him. He wasn’t intimidating at all.

“Our table should be ready now. Shall we go sit?” Brady’s mom asked.

We got inside and sat down and Brady’s dad ordered a bottle of expensive white wine. His parents ordered lobster tail (clearly not modest) and Brady and I got grilled tiger prawns and vegetables.

“So Reese, where are you from?” Brady’s dad asked while we waited for our food to arrive.

I had already taken a big gulp of my wine so I hurried to swallow. “I’m originally from suburban Texas.”

“Where did you go to college?” his mom asked.

“I graduated from ASU.”

“Is that…Arizona State?” she clarified, looking confused.

I nodded. So what if it isn’t Yale or Harvard? She didn’t have to judge.

“Brady tells us you work in marketing,” dad said.

“Yes. I’m the director of branding for a home decor company here in the city. I oversee all of the advertising efforts and any brand collaborations,” I explained.

“Is it a company we would know?” mom asked.

“We are found in a lot of retailers around the nation, but we only have our one showroom. We’re in select Nordstrom stores, if you shop there.”

“So are you a startup?” she asked, looking confused.

I shook my head. “No. We’ve been around for several years.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured as if she still wasn’t quite sure what I meant.

“So, being from Texas and living in Arizona for a number of years, how do you feel about what’s going on at the border?” dad asked me.

So it was starting. What border? The US/Mexico border? I took a drink of wine so I could stall and come up with a politically correct answer.

“I just really hope the conflict at the border ends soon and everyone is happy,” I said.

“Well, who did you vote for in the last presidential election?” he asked.

Maybe we weren’t friends after all. I didn’t even fucking vote because I thought both candidates sucked. I wished I would’ve paid attention when Googling his parents to whether his dad was a Democrat or Republican. I thought because they’re obviously rich and seemed conservative that they might be Republicans, but I remembered learning in my political science class in college that most or all of New England are Democratic states. But I failed that class and had to retake it so I don’t know. I looked at Brady for a clue, but he was looking back at me expectantly like he was wondering too.

“I voted for Obama,” I said finally.

Brady’s mom scrunched her face up, bewildered. “Why?”

Wrong answer.

“I really appreciated the passion he had for this country and wanted to give him the opportunity to tie up any loose ends during his second term,” I said, impressing even myself with the bullshit.

“Do you think he did a good job his first term?” Brady’s dad asked.

“I don’t think he did any worse than either of the Bushes,” I said and downed the rest of my wine.

Brady’s parents looked at each other.

“What do your parents do?” Brady’s mom asked.

“My father works in finance for an energy company and my mother owns a business,” I answered proudly.

“Your mother owns a business and you voted for Obama?” the mom gasped. The look on her face was almost comical.

I looked at Brady and gave him an SOS signal with my eyes. It took him a moment to figure out what it meant, but when he did figure it out, he acted quickly.

“Mom, would you like another glass of wine?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, sounding relieved. 

Our food came so luckily that conversation ended. They asked how we met and Brady and told them the story. Brady spent the rest of the meal talking about his job and the hospital and I was glad the attention was off me.

After Brady’s dad paid for everything, we walked outside to go to the party. His parents were walking a few feet ahead of us and Brady and I fell into step together.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Besides being grilled by your parents, I’m fine,” I said.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big Republicans. I probably should’ve metioned that.”

“That would have helped.”

“It’s okay though. Even if you don’t share the same view as them, they like that you have your own opinion and that you actually voted.”

I laughed and realized I was tipsy. “I actually didn’t really vote.”

Brady laughed too. “Dammit Reese.”

We boarded the yacht and immediately got complementary glasses of champagne. Since I was already feeling tipsy, I decided that I would have one glass and no more. I don’t know who was hosting the party, but there were a lot of older people on the yacht, dancing and talking and mingling. We grabbed a spot to sit on a striped couch.

“So, I hear you just had a birthday. What did you guys end up doing to celebrate?” Brady’s mom asked.

I suddenly remembered all the nasty hickeys I left on Brady’s neck and body and noticed that he’d worn a shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar to hide it. I smirked. 

“We had dinner with Reese’s friends,” he answered.

They continued asking random questions as the yacht took off into the lake. I was enjoying being on the water and even took a few pictures for Instagram (no drunk selfies though). About thirty minutes into the ride I started to feel weird. I figured it was from all the wine and champagne so I pushed my glass away and took a few deep breaths.

That didn’t help. I could feel every move the boat made and it was making me nauseas and dizzy. I tugged at Brady’s sleeve.

“I don’t feel well,” I whispered.

He was busy talking to his dad and ignored me. My entire body felt hot and my mouth was salivating like I was going to vomit. I swallowed a few times but the feeling didn’t go away.

“Brady,” I said, whacking his arm. He quickly spun around toward me. “I need to go to the bathroom, I’m sick.”

I stood up as Brady asked if I was okay. I held my hand up to signal that I was fine then scurried down to the cabin of the boat. Luckily, I found a bathroom just in time and slammed the door just before puking in the toilet. I started sweating as I kneeled in front of the porcelain throne. I started dry heaving and I heard a knock on the door.

“Reese?” Brady’s mom called. “Are you okay?”

Jeez, couldn’t I barf my brains out in private? I began throwing up again so I couldn’t answer.

“Reese?” she called again.

“I’m fine!” I gasped finally, hoping she would go away.

I vomited twice more and hugged the toilet for a few more minutes. I started to feel better so I heaved myself up and checked the mirror. I still felt a little bit icky, but it seemed like I was done throwing up. I quickly fixed my hair and dabbed my makeup in the mirror. Even though Brady’s mom had intruded on my barf sesh, I didn’t need everyone to know that I was seasick.

I opened the door to the bathroom and Brady’s mom was standing there waiting with a concerned look on her face. I was caught off guard that she was still waiting.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said quickly.

“Reese, you aren’t…pregnant, are you?” she asked, sounding disgusted at the word.

I smiled. Pregnant? Yeah right. Brady and I have only been having sex for two weeks. “Of course not. I think I just have motion sickness.”

She looked at me skeptically. “Are you positive?”

“Yes. I probably had too much wine. There is no way I could be pregnant.”

“Okay.”

Suddenly, I was really irritated with her. Like it was my fault that the yacht was doing whatever the fuck it wanted to and made me sick.

“How long until this thing turns around and goes back to dry land?” I asked, walking past her.

“Probably another hour or so. I’m sure we can find someone with Dramamine, although if you’re hungover then that won’t help matters.”

Shade. 

“I’m not hungover.”

I walked back up the stairs in front of her and found Brady and his dad on the couch where we left them. Brady stood up.

“Reese, are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, waving him away. I sat back down and started digging through my bag to find gum.

“Brady, go find her something to calm her stomach,” mom said.

“I don’t need anything,” I insisted but Brady was already on his way. So I was alone with the crazy Republicans.

“No one else has motion sickness,” Brady’s mom said, looking around the boat. “And the lake is fairly calm. So I think it is odd that you got sick.”

“You’re feeling better now, Reese?” Brady’s dad asked and he actually sounded genuinely concerned.

Brady appeared just as I said yes.

“Hey. I found a generic dimenhydrinate. Low dosage since you seem to be feeling better,” he explained and handed me a pill. 

“What did you say this was? I don’t want to be taking random drugs.”

Brady and I made eye contact and he smirked at me, like we were sharing an inside joke. I took the pill dry and we all sat back down and everything settled down.

“Why did you move to Illinois, Reese?” Brady’s dad asked.

“I love Chicago,” I said as if that was explanation enough.

“Texas is such a great place to live. The government is great, the taxes and cost of living are well below average… Illinois is just so corrupt,” dad said.

Brady’s mom nodded in agreement. “And it isn’t getting any better. That’s why we want Brady to come on home. Massachusetts is a wonderful state.”

I looked at Brady for a reaction. I remember he mentioned that he was considering moving home, but only once and he never spoke about it again. He kind of shrugged and took a drink from his bottle of water.

By the time the yacht finally got back to the dock, I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. I hadn’t said anything for the last forty five minutes which has to be some sort of record.

“Well, it was very nice meeting you,” Brady’s mom said as we were preparing to say our goodbyes in the parking lot. And then to my surprise, she actually hugged me. It felt very strained and cold, but I at least appreciated her attempt to be more welcoming to me. I mean, since I’m going to be the mother of her grandchild apparently.

On the ride back, Brady apologized about his parents interrogating me but despite how they may have came off, he believes they like me.

I already know, I should have never mentioned Obama.

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