Chapter 23: Bad Girls Take Tests

Mac

For the first time ever, I do not give a fuck about this sound check.

Don't get me wrong. I'm so incredibly glad Trace is back. Yay, the gangs all here! Fucking finally!

But Trace is playing perfect, and energetic, and shit-cool today. And with Trace on point, we are all rising to his challenge, and we sound amazing. It's like he's brought the blessing of the Almighty Father del Marco down upon us. Every song we practice thrums with righteousness.

There is no need to run this whole set, like Trace is insisting.

And I got bigger issues.

Maybe-baby issues.

I'm going crazy here.

Last night, after our show in Durham, I was shocked to see the first signs of my period.

I couldn't believe it. I mean, me and the maybe-baby have been having some serious bonding. Good talks and stuff. About how loved he is, and what an amazing daddy he has, and how he's definitely going to learn some piano before I let his daddy put a guitar or a bass in his hands.

I felt like the maybe-baby was listening. That I wasn't talking to myself.

But then last night...there it was—proof that I wasn't pregnant.

I was so shocked to be wrong...I couldn't even feel sad. I was just mad. Mad as hell that my instincts could be so off.

I threw some shit around in the bathroom. Just little stuff—towels and bars of soap.

Adam noticed. Of course he did. He's like a fucking eagle-eye, when it comes to my moods, now. I don't mean it in a bad way. He's so concerned about me. He's trying to be mild and gentle and steady. And he's constantly on his phone. I think he's reading about PTSD, yet he never pushes me to talk much about it.

Mostly every thing has been great, since I threw the Plan B in the ocean.

We haven't even talked about the maybe baby much. We just fell into a wonderful routine of sharing our Soundcrush life. We even stopped booking two hotel suites. That was a big deal. It might sound dumb to someone on the outside, but for us on tour—that's basically moving in together. It was a huge step, and we took it easily.

Like I said, everything was great, until last night, when Adam caught me throwing shit into the shower.

He leaned against the bathroom door and said mildly, "Shorty, you ok?"

I dropped the toilet paper roll.

"No, not really. I...I was wrong."

I walked straight into his arms. I didn't have to tell him. He understood.

" You're sure?"

I nodded wordlessly against his chest.

"You took a test?" he asked, sounding hurt.

"No...I...I wouldn't do that, without you. It's...I...my period," I whispered. "I'm sorry I...made such a big deal, and it came to nothing."

He made a growly, dismissive noise. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Sweetheart. I thought so, too."

We went to bed. We watched tv. We never watch tv. We always have sex or conversation. But last night we watched an early round of The Voice and tried to guess which of the judges would turn around for which of the artists. And then I fell asleep across Adam's chest.

When I woke up, things weren't like they seemed last night. There was no sign of my period anymore.

I Googled it, of course. Apparently it can happen--to be pregnant and bleed a little around the time of your period.

So maybe the maybe-baby was listening after all.

Or maybe the maybe baby hasn't decided on way or another to stick it out with me.

Can't say I blame him, but I did try to talk him into it.

Until Adam caught me pacing in the bathroom talking to myself and asked me if I was okay again. I'm so wound up, I just started crying. He took that for relief/disappointment. I just dried my tears quickly and didn't tell him otherwise. I didn't want to make a big deal with him this morning. I didn't want to be wrong again.

So all day—the bus from Durham to Richmond—was torture. I went to the bathroom as soon as we got here. Nope. Still no signs of my period returning, but the guys were in a rush to get to the stage and greet Trace, so there wasn't any time to pull Adam aside.

And now Trace is torturing us with needless practice and I need to get off this shit stage and drag Adam to the goddamn bathroom and take a fucking pregnancy test.

Trace is now wanting to run through songs that aren't even in the set. For fun, he says. I'm glad he missed us so fucking much, but I've got a maybe baby to sort out.

"Hey, del Marco," I boom into my mic. "Some of us haven't had two weeks off. I need some goddamn dinner before I fucking die, okay?"

Trace grins, "If you came down front and got a mouthful of Adam like I suggested earlier, you'd be full up, Macaroni."

Okay, that's funny. I laugh.

"Yes! Finally! I thought you'd never laugh again!" Trace yells, fist pumping in the air. I have no fucking idea what he's talking about, but then he yells. "We're good, Andy...we can take five now." I haul ass off the stage, giving Adam the stare down, hoping he will follow and not stick around and bullshit Trace.

Adam, wonderful man that he is, interprets my stare perfectly and follows me as I grab my bag from side stage. I drag him down the twists and turns of the back hall until I locate the bathroom again. I smack myself against the cool concrete wall and stare at him.

He looks so incredibly handsome, with his adrenaline pumping from playing. There's a slight sheen of sweat on his neck and his arms, and suddenly...I want him. But more than I want him right now, I want to take this pregnancy test and put an end to my torture.

"You seem a little jumpy," he says mildly.

I pull him toward me by the belt loops of his jeans. He comes to me easily, putting both forearms against the wall on either side of my head, kissing the side of my mouth, my cheek, at my hairline. "Talk to me, girl. Tell me what's going on with you right now."

"It stopped," I whisper in his ear.

"What stopped?" he asks.

"My period."

"What do you mean...it stopped?" he asks. "Just like...in the middle? It can...do that?"

"No Adam, it's not a damn faucet," I hiss in his ear. "I thought I was getting it last night. But this morning...it never really...came on, you know? And now...nothing, all day."

He's been listening against my ear, but now he backs up abruptly and stares at me wide-eyed. "So are you saying, you think you might...be pregnant? Still?"

I bite my lip again and shrug. "I don't know. Maybe." I pull a test out of my bag and hold it up in front of me. "You said you wanted to do it together, right?"

Adam's mouth works, trying not to smile. "Yeah. 'Course." He takes the test from my hands...

Just as Riley rounds the corner and skids to a stop. Adam shoves the test in his back pocket, but Riley pointedly takes his glasses off and cleans them on his t-shirt. Those fucking glasses must be superhero shit. He sees fucking everything.

"Riley. Glad you're back," Adam says a little uncomfortably.

"Madam," he says dryly, nodding at both of us with his usual assessing gaze.  He smirks a little. "Congratulations on your official relationship. Brilliant PR work, by the way." He looks very deliberately at my stomach,  and Adam's back pocket, and the smirk widens into an unguarded smile. "I take it you went with Plan A, then. I'll leave you to contemplate your further  official announcements."

"Riley...listen, man..." Adam says amiably.

"Don't worry, Heartley, not my secret to tell..." he saunters off.

Adam and I stare at each other.

"How does he always do that?" Adam grumbles. "Show up at the right time to see every damn thing that goes on in this band?"

"It's a gift," I laugh.

Adam gets an very unhappy face. "You know he stalks your period, right? How does he do that?"

"Actually, that one is not a stalk. We worked it out a long time ago. I text him the little siren; he forwards it to you guys. It's a win-win. None of us have to talk about it. I faked him out with a false siren two days ago, you know..."

Adam laughs. "But you know what, Shortcake? He didn't forward it this month."

"Damn." I say. "Maybe we don't even need the test. Maybe we should just ask Riley if I'm pregnant."

"You might be right, but let's take the test to be sure," Adam grins.

Five minutes later, I'm sitting on the edge of the sink, Adam is between my thighs with his arms around me. The test is face down on the edge of the counter. It's one of the new kinds...that says "pregnant" or "not pregnant." Adam's phone timer counting down for us.

My hands are around Adam's neck. He's stroking my hair. "We got this, Sweetheart. Either way. We got this."

I nod nervously. Adam's timer goes off. "You look," I tell him. I want to see his face, not the test.

He picks it up, flips it over. He closes his eyes for a brief second and I see his lips move.

It's the sweetest thing, the whisper of thanks on his lips. When he opens his eyes, they are smiling.

"So maybe we need a new name for the maybe-baby," he says, "because you're definitely pregnant."

He shows me the test. I nod. Looking at the word "pregnant" on the stick, I don't feel too much. I return to Adam's smiling eyes. That's where the feels come—from the way he's looking at me.

The feeling I've been having for two weeks spreads like warm honey through my veins. Like slow contentment. I don't even feel like I want to cry. I just feel...right. "I knew it," I whisper.

His lips twitch up in a tender smile as he brushes my cheek. "Because you are a soulful woman, MacKenna Lawson."

I trace his beard around his lips. "Only soulful where my soul meets yours," I put his hand to my belly. I know he's been dying to do that, and holding back.

He pats us so very gently. He hugs me up tight with his other hand, and looks at my face carefully. "You're smiling real pretty. Real sweet. Are you happy?"

I take a moment to consider. "Honestly if this is happy, I've never felt it before. I just know I feel so right, right now."

Adam kisses me, long and slow and tenderly, and then puts his forehead against mine. I sigh.

"We'll be fine," he tells me. "I'll help you...thrive. Whatever it takes to keep you shining. I promise, Mac. You'll never feel...left alone to struggle."

That's when I realize. I know what it is now—the feeling I've been feeling. It's not just the baby. It's Adam. I feel—filled up with his goodness.

"I love you very much, Adam. I just want you to know that," I say.

"That's good," he grins hugely. "I love you too. A fucking lot."

"Huh. Weird how that used to be so scary, and now it's nice."

We stay in each other's arms for a long time, our happy little news safe between us . Eventually, Tamara bangs on the door. "Mac, are you in there?"

"Yeah," I yell. "With Adam...don't come in!" I say, looking nervously at the scattered remains of the pregnancy test kit. "The door is locked," Adam assures me with a mumble.

"Girl! Finish sexing up that adorable man and get the fuck to the bus...Krill's already taking the stage!"

"Okay, be right there!" I call.

"The show has to go on," he says ruefully, "I guess we better get to it." He gets a devilish grin. "What are you wearing on stage tonight?"

"The leather pants and yellow bustier. Why?"

"Will you wear the rhinestone bra and the see through vest thing instead?"

"I guess, why?" I ask with a laugh.

He pulls me down off the counter. "That way, when I look across the stage at you tonight, I get to see more of you and  the babycakes."

"Babycakes?" I ask amused.

"Yep. Maybe-baby just seems like..."

"Bad luck now, right?" I nod.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Let's fade that..." Adam squats down and grabs my hips, speaking into my belly button. "Did you hear that? You got a new name already. Your momma is my Shortcake, so you are babycakes now, ok?"

I laugh and wiggle away. "Stop being so freakin' cute. I thought my baby-daddy was a fucking rock star..."

He smacks my ass. "I'll show you the rock star, Shorty. On the stage...and after, too."

And he does. Day 1 of Operation One Day At A Time finishes pretty fine.

Awwww, Mac was right all along! She had a little hiccup there with her period that wasn't quite, but she didn't even freak out (that much.)  I think right now Mac and Adam are really happy to have babycakes on board! Do you think they will stay on the same page? What about all those troublesome things Trace said in the last chapter about the problems Mac's pregnancy will bring for the tour? What is Adam's family going to say? Or Leed? Or the rest of the band? Will Mac continue to stay positive in the face of all those possible stressors?

Please comment/vote/list/follow if you are enjoying the story! Thanks so much!