Peace, Tony, Devil Pt 3

I arrive at work early this morning; I want to make a good impression on the bosses for the next two weeks. It would be helpful to have a job to return to when my baby is old enough. I work at an accounting firm, Loomis & Loomis. Loomis and Loomis aren’t my biggest fans currently. They are identical twin two brothers, Steven and William. I think most of our clients can’t tell them apart. The only reason I can is because of their voices, and the difference is so subtle I think only myself and Janet, the secretary, can pick it and then, only when they speak. You can usually tell when someone is trying to put on a voice, one of the many reasons my special talent is so useful.

William or Steven arrives when I do and we nod hello, I can’t tell if he’s pleased that I’m early or grizzled that I exist. We reach the door at the same time and he holds it open for me. I realise it is William, Steven is never so polite. I must admit this is something about him that I appreciate and sometimes I feel it’s the least he could do, me being in my condition and all.

‘Did you get that thing I sent you?’ William may be polite but he’s all business.
‘The preschool accounts?’
‘No, my review of the outline of your presentation, I sent it last night.’
‘Oh, not yet. I was at my birthing class last night.'
‘Of course you were,’ he sighs heavily, as if it were he with a weight in his belly.
‘It’s the first thing on my list.’ I wander towards my desk.

* * * * * * *

The more I think about it the more the fear builds inside me. This whole pregnancy thing does frighten me, immeasurably. I know I gave the impression (said in words, even) that I wasn’t afraid of what is happening to my body but truthfully I am terrified. I’m a man, not built for this. My legs feel weak, my back aches and my belly is ever expanding. I wonder if a woman will ever love me again.  I have breasts now. I remember not long ago when I would judge a man with even the slightest hint of breast and now I am that man. The only consolation for me is that at least they’re not because I enjoy my food too much; although my cravings make me worry that this reason could overtake that of my pregnancy.  For now my breasts serve a noble purpose.