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Ronnie
Three Months Later - Nine months pregnant
Taking a deep breath, I sit the scrapbook in front of Dane. He’s going to think it’s dumb or girlie. No, he’s going to love it. It’s us. Damn inner Ronnies are driving me crazy, and I won’t be able to rest until I know what he thinks.
“This for me?”
I can only nod. Struck with nerves because I realize just how much I want him to love it. He sits up and puts his phone on the coffee table, turning to give me his full attention. We’re on the couch snuggled under a blanket as we wait for our induction date this weekend.
“Wow. It’s us.” He mutters softly as he looks at the first page. It’s a photo of us on the day we met. Dane and Dominic had just gone head-to-head in a rematch of whisk takers and made amends. Leading them to celebrate at Bake Love to Me, where I helped make dinner and was invited to stay. The picture was taken of us all seated around a long dinner table with our glasses in the air. Sophie recently found it and sent it to me. In the photo Dane is staring at me as I smile in complete oblivion. Too shy to speak a word to him at the time. Thanks to him, I’ve done a lot of growing.
I watch him flip to the next page. The welcome to bourbon Texas sign. Third page. The new Bake Love to Me location. Our location. With his other location running smoothly, he’s in no hurry to start any new projects. Building a good life is what he always tells me when I ask what he wants to do next. The staff is trained, and I thought he would be restless, but lucky for me, he likes baking with me…and for me. Being on bedrest has been hard.
Page Four Dominic and Sophie’s wedding photo. He makes a gagging sound, but I know he’s happy for his sister and hates to admit it, but Dominic is a great guy.
Pages five and six are different photos of the two of us splashed across the two pages like a collage. Our first movie ticket and the recipe to the donut shop I paid for when I bought our dessert on one of our first dates.
Pages Seven, eight, nine, and ten are just photos of me. Very special, very private photos of me for Dane’s eyes only.
He stares at the first photo of me in just a pair of lace panties lying across a bed, draped with a red sheet that still leaves a little to the imagination.
“I wanted to give you something to show you the family we’re building. We also have friends and family who love and support us.”
“I’m the luckiest damn man on earth and don’t feel like I’m missing anything. In fact, I feel overwhelmed with blessing because I have you, Ronnie. You bring so much happiness wherever you go, and goddamn, I love you, woman.”
I sniffle with emotion.
“I love you, caveman.”
“That is exactly how I feel looking at these photos. Who the hell took these? Where was I? Were you alone?”
I laugh lightly at his protective interrogation I’ve become accustomed to. From feeling like no one cared at all to being the center of this man’s world has been a real head rush. I feel valued and appreciated. Loved.
“Relax, Daddy Shark.” As soon as the word daddy leaves my mouth, a gush of liquid pours from me. Did I just pee myself? No, this is it.
“Oh my god.”
“It’s time.”
I nod as he jumps to his feet. He leaves me there a moment to come back with a towel. This one-of-a-kind man helps me clean up and change into a pair of his big comfy sweatpants.
“I called Dr. Lovejoy; she’s going to meet us.” He keeps muttering a list of things as he grabs our hospital bag, which has been ready by the door, but it all blurs when a contraction grips me. Pain squeezes me from the inside, and I squeeze his hand as hard as I can. A new rush of nerves hits me. I send up a prayer for wellness and slowly make it into Dane’s car.
Excitement rises as I realize I’ll be meeting my baby soon. Dane and I agreed not to find out the gender, so we could wait until tonight. I rub my big belly, having loved every minute of being pregnant. Those first pink lines. Finding out what size fruit the baby was equal to. Feeling those first kicks. Showing those kicks to Dane.
“Tonight, we meet our baby,” I say in awe as he pulls us up to the hospital doors, and another contraction pins me in place.
