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I think that the decision to move her into the big house from the cabin is a good one. I just thought it would be an easier transition to Germany, but now it really makes me feel more secure. Definitely don't want her to too far away now. Need to keep an eye on her. What if she needs help? What if she can't walk upstairs anymore? What if she becomes fragile somehow? Crying all the time, or throwing up all the time?
I have heard women do that. They do.
When we get home, she looks more or less the same. I keep inspecting her for signs of fragility, but she just bounces out of the truck and up the front steps, smiling as she heads in the front door.
Should she just be walking around like that? Should we be helping her?
“Just wait here,” Tom calls out as she heads toward the kitchen. “I want to show you your room! We'll just need a minute.”
“Oh, right!” She exclaims, clapping her hands underneath her chin. “My new room! I almost forgot. Man, can this day get any better?”
“You want some water something? Want to sit over there… put your feet up?”
She glances at the sofa, shaking her head. “Sit over there? No… I'm fine. I feel like going for a walk. You want to go for a walk with me? There is still lot of the forest that I never got to see…”
“No, you should definitely sit down,” Hank insists. “I'll make you some tea or something. Do you drink tea? Do we have any tea in the house?”
She puts her fists on her hips. “No, you do not have any tea in this house. What is going on?”
“Nothing is going on,” Hank shrugs. “I think we do have some tea, though. Does tea ever go bad? It might be old. Let me check. It's probably here in one of these cupboards…”
He starts opening cupboards next to the stove, pushing things around, reaching up to the top shelf and grumbling to himself. Vanessa looks at me and raises her eyebrows.
“Seriously? What is going on?”
“Can you just sit down?”
“No, I can't sit down!” she huffs. “Are you planning on doing this the entire time?”
I shrug innocently. “I'm not doing anything. I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Oh, really,” she says sarcastically. She puts her hands on her hips and jumps in place.
“Stop that,” I sigh.
She keeps jumping, her boobs jiggling in her top, her hair flying out like wings behind her.
“Is this is bothering you? Jumping? Do you think the babies are gonna fall out?”
“What the hell are you doing? Stop that!” Charlie yells out, running over to her. He grabs her by the shoulders.
She skips away, laughing. She runs behind the sofa, dares him to chase her.
“You guys are hilarious,” she smiles, but the look on her face is affection and admiration. “I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm not going to break. In fact, I feel like superwoman! I feel amazing!”
“You're freaking me out,” I confess, shrugging. “What if something goes wrong, Vanessa?”
“Aw, sweetie,” she coos, rushing over to me and wrapping her arms around my middle. I gather her up, holding her close and smelling her hair. Just the scent of her makes me feel a million times better.
“Nothing's gonna go wrong,” she mumbles into my shirt, her voice muffled against my chest. “You gotta believe it. Everything is perfect, Stan. Everything is absolutely magical.”
“Speaking of magical,” Tom says, leaning over the railing of the stairs, “would you like to see your new room?”
“What? Already?” she gasps. “Right now?”
I hold out my elbow for her to take. “Right this way, madame.”
She rolls her eyes but concedes to take my elbow. I guide her up the stairs toward the bedrooms, hoping that my brothers have managed to make everything look okay. We are going to put her in my old room, which is the biggest. It used to be my parents’ room and has a private bath. That was the main reason that we thought it would be the most appropriate for her. Our princess needs her privacy.
