Another sharp pang to your stomach left ignored. You had been having contractions for the past week now, but nothing seemed to be happening.
You were at the Curtis house; waiting for Soda to get início from work. Ponyboy had been watching you for today, making sure you “didn’t overwork yourself” and “was smart.”
The pain struck you again, and you just groan. “Baby Grace you are early. You aren’t supposed to come out for another two weeks. You’re annoying me.” You talk to the bulge in your belly.
“(Y/N), are you ok?” Ponyboy asks from his bedroom.
“I’m fine.” You answer back, turning your attention back to Mickey rato on TV. All of a sudden you really wanted some chocolate milk.
“Hey Ponyboy, can you get me some chocolate milk… Please?” You ask from the couch.
He walks from his room to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out the gallon of milk. He starts to get a glass, but you stop him.
“Just bring me the whole carton.” You wave him over.
“Just don’t get sick… I won’t be able to hear the end of it from Soda,” he says as he hands you the carton. You unscrew the lid and gulp.
Another pang hits you, this one different from all the others.
You spit out the milk, like a bad spit take.
“Ponyboy we need to go.”
The look of pure panic crept onto his face.
“Go where?” He asked, eyes wide.
“The hospital. Like now.”
“I can’t drive!” Ponyboy says, starting to pace.
“And I can’t walk!” You say.
“Oh my god, what are we gonna do?” He asks.
“I don’t know, you’re the one supposed to be taking care of… Owwww.” You clutch your stomach.
“Ok… Uhh let me call someone to come and get us.” He runs to the phone.
You wince as another contraction hits.
You might just be having a baby on the couch.
You were at the Curtis house; waiting for Soda to get início from work. Ponyboy had been watching you for today, making sure you “didn’t overwork yourself” and “was smart.”
The pain struck you again, and you just groan. “Baby Grace you are early. You aren’t supposed to come out for another two weeks. You’re annoying me.” You talk to the bulge in your belly.
“(Y/N), are you ok?” Ponyboy asks from his bedroom.
“I’m fine.” You answer back, turning your attention back to Mickey rato on TV. All of a sudden you really wanted some chocolate milk.
“Hey Ponyboy, can you get me some chocolate milk… Please?” You ask from the couch.
He walks from his room to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out the gallon of milk. He starts to get a glass, but you stop him.
“Just bring me the whole carton.” You wave him over.
“Just don’t get sick… I won’t be able to hear the end of it from Soda,” he says as he hands you the carton. You unscrew the lid and gulp.
Another pang hits you, this one different from all the others.
You spit out the milk, like a bad spit take.
“Ponyboy we need to go.”
The look of pure panic crept onto his face.
“Go where?” He asked, eyes wide.
“The hospital. Like now.”
“I can’t drive!” Ponyboy says, starting to pace.
“And I can’t walk!” You say.
“Oh my god, what are we gonna do?” He asks.
“I don’t know, you’re the one supposed to be taking care of… Owwww.” You clutch your stomach.
“Ok… Uhh let me call someone to come and get us.” He runs to the phone.
You wince as another contraction hits.
You might just be having a baby on the couch.
“Soda, ok, you can come in now.” Ponyboy grinned. I was standing seguinte to him, and he was seguinte to Mickey Mouse.
With the money that I would have gone to college with, and with what Ponyboy had saved, we had bought Soda his horse.
Soda came in, in his plaid camisa and jeans. His jaw dropped. Then he smile brighter than the sun.
He walked over to horse.
“Hey buddy,” he says, smiling, petting his nose.
“It took forever to get him to listen,” Ponyboy said.
“Yeah, I got myself and ornery pony.” Soda grins.
“You happy?” You ask Soda.
He just looks at you, smiles and nods his head.
With the money that I would have gone to college with, and with what Ponyboy had saved, we had bought Soda his horse.
Soda came in, in his plaid camisa and jeans. His jaw dropped. Then he smile brighter than the sun.
He walked over to horse.
“Hey buddy,” he says, smiling, petting his nose.
“It took forever to get him to listen,” Ponyboy said.
“Yeah, I got myself and ornery pony.” Soda grins.
“You happy?” You ask Soda.
He just looks at you, smiles and nods his head.
Soda’s Perspective
“Daddy is this flour or sugar!”
“Daddy these are burnt!”
Faith was in her high chair, making a giant mess with the Cheerios, Logan was just eating the waffles, and Grace was attempting to mix the waffle batter.
This was not working.
I was trying to make (Y/N) breakfast in cama for Mother’s dia with the kids, but we were failing miserably.
(Y/N) walks into the cozinha in her pajamas. As soon as she saw the mess we made, her eyes got wide.
I walk over to her. Grab her por the waist and give her a quick kiss. “Ok go put clothes on, we’re going out for breakfast.” She smiles. “Happy Mother’s Day, babe.”
“Daddy is this flour or sugar!”
“Daddy these are burnt!”
Faith was in her high chair, making a giant mess with the Cheerios, Logan was just eating the waffles, and Grace was attempting to mix the waffle batter.
This was not working.
I was trying to make (Y/N) breakfast in cama for Mother’s dia with the kids, but we were failing miserably.
(Y/N) walks into the cozinha in her pajamas. As soon as she saw the mess we made, her eyes got wide.
I walk over to her. Grab her por the waist and give her a quick kiss. “Ok go put clothes on, we’re going out for breakfast.” She smiles. “Happy Mother’s Day, babe.”
**************************************************
The cars zoomed by.
“This makes me so nervous.” you say.
“Why?” Soda asks, smiling.
“What if the cars blow up, and we die? Or what if they crash? Or-“
“Hey it’s going to be fine,” He interrupts you. “Have some popcorn.”
“But what if I’m eating pipoca and the cars blow up and we die?”
“Then I’ll blow up and die eating pipoca with the girl I love.”
And he kisses you on the lips.
******************************************
The cars zoomed by.
“This makes me so nervous.” you say.
“Why?” Soda asks, smiling.
“What if the cars blow up, and we die? Or what if they crash? Or-“
“Hey it’s going to be fine,” He interrupts you. “Have some popcorn.”
“But what if I’m eating pipoca and the cars blow up and we die?”
“Then I’ll blow up and die eating pipoca with the girl I love.”
And he kisses you on the lips.
******************************************