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Chapter Twenty Three - Mind Over Matter

"I made french toast!"

I was jostled awake by the shifting of the mattress. Sometime during the night I had procured a light sheet; it was twisted like a snake around my body. I opened my eyes and for a moment looked at Rosie in confusion. She was wearing my Acid and Jazz t-shirt and holding a tray with some wicked looking syrupy toast. I was sure I was dreaming: wasn't that every man's fantasy?

And then it came back to me.

"Morning," I said quickly, sitting up. I scratched at the stubble that had erupted on my chin. "H-how are you?"

"Great," she said breathlessly. "Are you hungry?"

My stomach growled as the smell of cinnamon invaded my nostrils. "Yeah, I am."

She crawled onto the bed, bringing the tray with her. She handed me a fork and cut off a huge hunk of toast. I grabbed one of the glasses of orange juice and took a sip.

"About last night..."

Rosie waved her fork in my direction. "I know what you're going to say. And I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? About what?"

Rosie cut another piece of toast and held it out to me. I paused for a second before taking the bite.

Delicious.

"I should have told you I was a virgin when you asked about my boyfriends. I just didn't want to scare you off."

"So you just figured you'd get me so worked up I couldn't possibly resist?" I asked with a smile. She laughed.

"Yes."

"It worked."

She smiled as she worked on another piece of toast. "I know," she said softly.

"Listen, Rosie," I said seropisl;y. "I don't know where this is going to end up, but we can't do what we did last night again. I mean, we were both free-ballin' it and I'm just not ready to handle the possible consequences of that."

"Me either," she admitted. "That's why we need to make another stop today."

"Agreed," I said. We continued to work through the plate in amicable silence.

Just two lovers enjoying the morning after.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Babe, you don't need those."

"What? Of course I do. We're out. Double-X-L," I waved the box suggestively. "For your pleasure," I said in my best, yet still horrible Barry White voice.

Lauren laughed, taking the box from me. "No, I mean, we don't need them."

I looked at her in confusion. "What? But I thought we decided it wasn't the right time to keep trying. With the tour and all..."

I had never seen her smile like she did at that moment. "We don't have to keep trying."

My eyes went from the smile, back to the box in her hand, and then back to the smile. When the realization hit; my eyes zoomed straight to the ceiling. The rest of me fell backward.

When the lovely old lady from the Wal-mart Pharmacy had tossed enough smelling salts under my nose to wake me up, the first thing I did was scramble to my feet, grabbing Lauren's hands.

"Tell it to me straight."

"You knocked me up. I'm pregnant."

"Say it again."

She laughed, but I could tell that she was regretting telling me the news in a giant ass superstore. "I'm pregnant!" she said in a loud whisper. She smiled again.

My God, did she glow.


"Nick, uhm, do you know what to get?"

Rosie nudged my arm and I jumped. I didn't know why I was suddenly being thrust into the middle of memories. The last one especially hurt. That had been such a happy moment. It was the first time I had linked myself with the concept of fatherhood.

It was such short lived joy.

"You were just staring straight ahead. What were you thinking about?" she inquired.

"N-nothing," I said. "It's just they've got some new brands out since the last time..." I trailed off lamely. I grabbed my old Trojan stand-bys. "These are good."

"I'll take your word for it," Rosie teased. I spotted the pharmacy bag in her hand.

"And you--"

"Plan B," she admitted. "No need to worry about last night for the next two weeks."

"Right," I said. I fiddled with the box.

"Nick, something's wrong," Rosie said quietly. "What gives?"

"If it's a girl I'm thinking Bridgette."

"Neither of us are French," I argued.

Lauren smiled. "I've just always liked the name!"

"What kind of nickname can you give a girl named Bridgette? Bridge? That's a card game. Or a structure that connects two pieces of land."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "We can call her Gigi."

"That sounds like something you'd call a poodle."

I knew it was the wrong thing to say before I said it. Lauren's forehead creased. "Well then, what do YOU suggest?"

"I like Kassidy," I said. "You could call her Kassie. Or if it's a boy, Konner."

"So you could call him Kon?" Lauren asked. "As in ex-con?"

"Is this the hormones talking?" I asked hopefully.

I got an extremely heavy edition of 1,000 Baby Names and Their Meanings tossed at my head. Lauren burst into tears.

"YES!"


"Nick, sit down."

My tailbone suddenly connected with the uncomfortable wrought iron pharmacy bench and my eyes refocused underneath the horrible florescent lighting. I hunched forward, feeling nauseous. Rosie leaned in towards me, her hand pressing into my thigh.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Don't tell me nothing."

"Flashbacks. They're just coming up when I least expect them," I mumbled.

"About your wife?"

I nodded. I expected to hear a sigh of some sort. That's what happened after you slept with someone. Their patience disappeared.

But Rosie didn't sigh. She turned my face towards hers; she just looked concerned.

"Maybe you need to talk to someone about what that means," she suggested gently. "Especially if they're happening more...now."

"That would mean going home," I argued.

"It does," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean once we get there that we can't leave again if you need it."

"We?"

Rosie stood up. It was the only time she hovered above me. "You said you weren't ready to get rid of me yet," she said lightly.

I swallowed hard. I had a hard time thinking about her in my house. She seemed like one of those natural things that you just didn't put in an urban setting.

"You're sure?" I asked. She nodded.

"I don't think I can help you work out what's up here," she continued, tapping my forehead. "Maybe just here." she leaned over and tapped my heart. I smiled and grabbed her hand.

"Trust me, you've done more for me than over a year with my old shrink accomplished," I assured her, standing up. "Maybe I've just spent so long in memories that they're having a hard time letting them go."

Rosie let go of my hand; she handed me the box I had dropped. Double X-L.

"Now you just have to find someone that helps you figure out how to stop being sucked back in," she said.

"Babe, you don't need those."

"I'm pregnant..."


I took a step forward, feeling as if I had just been cursed to be The Time Traveler's Wife or something. (Not that I would ever admit to watching that movie. But, damn, it was basically just two hours of a naked guy's ass! No wonder they call that stuff chick flicks. Lauren had practically gobbled up the screen...)

Something told me that it was going to be easier said than done to get me to stay completely in the present.

Lauren was letting me live again...

But she wasn't going to totally let me go.