Me: I’m feeling fine, I promise.
Graham: Is my sister there yet? She’s not answering my texts.
Chuckling, I glance up from my phone. “Uh-oh, you’re in trouble with your brother.”
Gemma’s brows furrow. “Uh, why?”
“He says you haven’t responded to any of his messages.”
“What? I haven’t gotten anything,” she says, leaning forward to grab the phone off the coffee table. Unlocking the screen, she laughs. “Oh, it’s on airplane mode for some reason. Oops.”
Me: Yes, Dad, she’s here.
“Oh, my word,” Gemma says, pulling my attention from my phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Five messages in ten minutes.” She snorts.
“What do they say?”
Gemma counts on her fingers as she reads them off. “Make sure Charley isn’t doing anything around the house. She doesn’t need to unload the dishwasher, doesn’t need to wash the bedding, doesn’t need to clean the bathrooms. Please make sure she eats every few hours. This next one is in all caps,” she adds before continuing. “And staying hydrated. Then the fifth one, also in all caps, just says hello with half a dozen question marks.”
I chuckle, knowing he means well. “Graham’s a little on edge these days.”
“Couldn’t tell,” Gemma teases. “But I get it. Speaking of eating, want a snack or something?”
Scrunching my nose, I think about it and say, “Not really that hungry, but there’s about half of my smoothie from this morning in the fridge.”
“On it.” She stands and walks to the kitchen while I stay seated on the couch, Biggie Smalls napping at my feet, feeling ridiculous for having my friend fetch everything for me.
It’s been about a week and a half since I went on early maternity leave. I was nervous about bringing it up with my boss, but he was really supportive and wouldn’t even let me work the rest of my shift. I felt guilty that first week, like I’m letting my team down, but I know it was the right choice for me and little peanut’s health. A few days ago, I went to my prenatal appointment and, yet again, my blood pressure was high. Dr. Mitchell put me on what she calls “light bedrest,” which basically means I can’t do any prolonged standing or exercising, any work I do around the house needs to be non-strenuous, and I have to get lots of rest.
Graham took it to heart; you’d think I was on full bedrest with the way he’s been. Per his request, his mom has been watching Ellie Mae at her house when he’s at work because he knows I’d be tempted to play with her and be more active than I should be—literally, his exact words—and he’s also worked outa babysitting schedule for me on the days he works. He doesn’t call it that, but that’s what it feels like. Any time he’s had a shift this week, someone has come over to hang out with me all day, making sure I’m not doing anything I shouldn’t be.Babysitting.So far, it’s only been his sisters, but I wouldn’t be surprised if next week his dad shows up.
Or mine.
Coming back into the living room, Gemma hands me the half-drank smoothie. “That smells amazing,” she offers, sitting beside me again. “What’s in it?”
“It’s pineapple mango,” I say before taking a sip, then offering it to her. “Wanna try it?”
“Yes.” Gemma breathes out a small chuckle as she takes the cup from me. “Oh wow, that’s delicious.”
“Graham made it,” I offer. “My fruit is pineapple this week.”
“You have a fruit of the week?” Her brows wrinkle in confusion. “Wait, do you mean like a size comparison for the baby?”
I nod. “Yup. Graham’s been making food—or drinks,” I say, holding up the cup, “each week that includes the fruit or vegetable of that week.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” Gemma’s gaze softens. “Why the hell did neither of my baby daddies do something like that for me?”
Laughing, I shrug. “I don’t know, but I didn’t even realize he was doing it until a few weeks ago when he had me order a drink at a restaurant we were at. For some reason, it clicked.”
“I’m not even a little bit surprised that my brother would do something like that for you,” she murmurs. “That man has been in love with you since he was, like, ten. You know that, right?”
My cheeks heat. “I don’t know if it’s been quite that long.”
Gemma arches a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching. “So, you’re saying you know he’s in love with you, then?”
