Page 69 of Restored Dreams

“You don’t want to marry me.” Everything inside me rushes to my stomach, and in another second, I’ll need to open this lid and vomit.

“That’s not it. I just thought one day I’d have a wedding.” Lily’s eyes avoid mine, scrubbing a nail on the porcelain like she’s trying to chip at it.

“We can do that.” My shoulders lower, and my body language shows the added weight to my list. A wedding. “Okay, we can get Midge to help and contact a minister—”

“Brut, can you slow down a minute? We don’t need a wedding, especially a rushed one. I’m just saying I thought I’d have one, one day.” Her hand comes to her still small belly. “But like you said, nothing happened as you thought it would.”

Something in her tone doesn’t settle well with me. I also don’t like the sound of the words I said repeated back to me.

“Okay, you’re right. I don’t mean to push.” I know Lily understands this is what I do. I take care of things.

“You’re not pushing,” she says softly. “We just don’t need to do everything today.”

I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck, then nod to agree.

“What I would like to do today is check in with the landlord and contact the insurance company.”

The bakery. I almost forgot. I plow forward again.

“I don’t think you should return to work.”

“Excuse me?”

“In your condition, you stand all day, which can be stressful.”

Lily sits forward in the tub, her arms resting on the edge while her feet still angle on the opposite edge. She’s flexible, and my mind flashes back to the frog-like position she took over me on my bed. Her voice interrupts the memory.

“I’m pregnant, not dead. I will be working, and I will reopen my bakery.” The determination in her voice reminds me of a nineteen-year-old Lily telling me she’ll own her own bakery one day.

“Okaaaay.” I hesitate. “But I think you need to reconsider your location.”

“The bakery is located on Sacramento Street. And that’s where it will stay. I have too much equipment, and the location works best as I’m just outside LA. I need to be close to the city for events.”

I sigh, exasperated. “Lily pad.” The nickname doesn’t work.

“Brut,” she exaggerates.

“Okay, let’s just take it one step at a time. The insurance company first.” I take a deep breath although I know taking steps is going to be difficult when I want to run to the finish line.

+ + +

“What is she doing out there?” Chopper asks as he stands before the back door to the yard. My kitchen is long and narrow with limited light. It’s a few days after Lily told me the news, and I stand amid the space staring at the wall behind the stove. I should have bumped out the entire room and added an addition to make an open-concept space like the beach house. I sigh, worrying for the millionth time I won’t provide Lily with all she wants, all she needs.

“She’s doing yoga,” I reply without having to look out the door. It’s October but still pleasant outside. Lily and I have slowly established a routine of living and working around one another. I had to get back to the garage, and Lily’s been elbow deep in insurance claims and working with her landlord. She’s in a panic with the holiday season coming. The police have cleared her business for normal operations in the kitchen area, but the storefront still needs some work.

Hank gave me a hand, and we cleared out the damaged display cases and cleaned up all the glass. After a scrub down and industrial vacuuming, the place didn’t look too bad despite the boards across the front. She should have new windows installed any day. I’m still not happy she insists on remaining in her current location, but we settled on her living space. She’s with me. We moved her personal things to my house—our house—and she’ll use the space above the bakery as her office.

While Hank and I were cleaning Lily’s place, I asked him to bring Midge over for dinner tonight. Lily and I have something to discuss with them. We’ve already told Chopper about the baby, and he seems excited enough. As enthusiastic as a twenty-two-year-old can be when he’s getting a sibling. When we told him, he told us he was moving out.

“The timing’s perfect. With Lily moving in, I don’t have to worry about you being alone, and with the baby, you’ll have your hands full.”

Lily worried she was forcing Chopper out, but he assured her she couldn’t get rid of him even if he lived elsewhere. I was touched he worried about leaving me alone. The comments made Lily cry. I’ve never pegged her for an emotional person, not on the level the tears seem to fall this week, and she admits it’s not her typical behavior, but pregnancy has made her a hot mess. Tears result from television commercials, reading a social media post, or something she witnesses—like an old man hugging his kid—which is what happened between Chopper and I after he told me he was moving out.

I also know Lily’s dealing with a lot. The damage to her business rattles her despite her brave front and survivor attitude. She’s pregnant. She’s moved in with me. It’s all been an adjustment, but I still worry she isn’t adjusting like I am. I’m so happy inside. Waking up to her each day causes me to nearly burst. I stare at her form next to me in our bed, where she finally lingers each morning instead of rushing to get out of it like she did at the beach house. I follow her movements as she crosses a room or sits on the couch absently holding her stomach. She glows from the early stages of pregnancy, and her light warms my insides.

Yet something’s still missing.

With Hank and Midge over for dinner, I’m hoping to finalize the marriage plan and get something checked off my list. I’m still waiting on the countertop, but I plan to grill, so it won’t be too much of an inconvenience.