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“Sylvie,” he whispers. “I wouldn’t call you a wimp or a wuss.”
“Thinking it is the same thing, Scott.”
He frowns, his eyes hardening just a bit. “Stop giving me a hard time, Sylvia. You know that I think you’re strong, but you do have an Achilles heel. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, and it makes you even stronger that you know you have it. You should’ve talked to me. I didn’t bring it up to you because the consequences would be far worse if you didn’t and the ball has always been in your court. Just...let’s stop being so scared, all right? You can talk to me about what you want. We don’t always have to take action immediately.”
I’m not so sure I believe that. Scott is a take-action kind of man when it comes to giving me what I want. I nod anyway. “Do you know what I want right now?”
“What’s that?”
“Breakfast.”
Scott smiles so brightly at that. “Yeah? French toast again? Bacon? Sausage? Fruit? Eggs?”
“Everything but the eggs.” I frown at the thought.
Scott gives me a quick kiss before getting out of bed. He seems thrilled at the thought of making me breakfast. I’m a little thrilled at the thought of wanting breakfast. I get up to take a quick shower. By the time I’m done, Scott and the girls are sitting at the table, waiting for me.
“Are you feeling better, Momma?” Stephanie asks.
“Yeah. Thanks for asking, sweetie. What do y’all want to do today?”
“Daddy said we could make cookies,” Stella says.
That’s how our day goes. Scott has to go to the practice facility for a bit, so we go to the grocery store since we need icing and are currently out. We spend time using cookie cutters to make something other than a round cookie, which has become almost unacceptable thanks to Lizzy. We play while they bake. We decorate them together.
The anxiety that I’ve been feeling so much of is oddly absent. Maybe it’s because I finally know what’s going on with me. That brings on a totally new wave of anxiety, but for the moment, I’m calm. One day at a time and all that bullshit. I’m reducing it even further to one second at a time. That’s about all I can handle.
I’ve been trying not to think about it, but that hasn’t worked out all that well either. So, I covertly look up stuff on my phone. Scott came home to see all we had been doing and insisted we take a break to watch TV.
I lean over and whisper quietly, “The baby is the size of a fig.” Thank goodness the girls are talking back and forth, so I don’t have to worry about them hearing me, even though I’m whispering. “Like anybody sees a fig on a regular basis to remember how big it is,” I add in a mutter.
Scott laughs. “What else?”
“He or she is one and a half inches long and is already moving around, but obviously, the baby is too little for us to feel it.”
There’s a tightening in my chest to be talking about the baby, but it’s the only way I can do it. If Scott doesn’t want me living in fear, then I have to talk about him or her. If I don’t, then I’m letting my fear win.
Scott leans over and kisses me so softly and so sweetly. “Proud of you, Sylvie.”
I roll my eyes. “Just following orders.” If he’s too nice and serious, I’ll start crying again.
He laughs and pulls at my leggings. “Maybe you should take Meredith and go shopping.”
“What? You’re trying to tell me what to wear now?” I know he isn’t; Scott doesn’t care what I wear, but I couldn’t resist saying it.
“Just trying to make sure you have something else to wear that fits is all. You could go today.”
“No. I’ll ask her to go one day next week before she goes into work.” I lean into his side, lifting his arm to lay it across my shoulders. “I want to stay with my favorite people today.”
My phone vibrates on the end table and Scott grabs it to hand it to me.
Lizzy: Are you okay? Like for real? Scott said you were, but then Marc told me he left because you went to the doctor and Scott didn’t tell me that, so now I’m worried all over again.
Me: I’m fine. Give me a few weeks to explain, please? I know I’m Queen Nosy, but I need some time first.
Lizzy: Of course. I’m glad you’re okay. Let’s do lunch next week, okay?
Me: Done.
