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56
Nicolette
Hoping a plane from Tennessee to New York City is much harder than it sounds. I’ve been so sick since we had lift-off. I spent the entire trip with my head in a bag. To say this pregnancy is not being kind is a safe bet.
Now I’m sitting on the couch of our house for the week-I think. Could be longer. It just kind of depends on what we can get accomplished in a week. I’m laying on the couch, trying to get my bearings about me.
Everyone is choosing a room and roommates. I just wish they’d be quieter. Kris was supposed to be finding some ginger ale and crackers. I already know we have the room at the top of the house. It’s also the only one with a bathroom in the room. Of course, I only know this because I did the research.
I spy Kris coming my way with what he was looking for. “I’m not liking this pregnancy thing very much.”
He purses his lips. “You look beautiful, Tink.” He hands me the ginger ale and a plate with cheese, carrots, ranch dressing, and saltines. “Try and at least pick. Okay?”
“I’m barely going to handle the crackers and ginger ale, and you brought me more to eat?”
“I said try.” He sits beside me, picking up a carrot and popping it into his own mouth with a hearty crunch. “Hmm, needs sriracha.”
“Are you making fun of me?” I quirk a brow at him.
“Maybe a little.” Kris bumps me with his shoulder softly. “This couch sucks, do you want to see if the bed bounces better?”
If looks could kill, Kris would be a dead man. Before I can speak, Blue pops his head into the room.
“We’re gonna go out. Did you want to come with?”
“I’m good right here, but you can take the jokester all you want.”
“Not likely. But why don’t we meet you for supper later? Call us around four and let us know where you all end up, and we’ll meet you.”
“Sounds cool. Don’t christen the whole place in one go, and if you do, there’s Lysol under the kitchen sink.” Blue snickers before running away. Like literally running.
“You could have gone with them. I’m probably just going to sleep anyway.”
“Sleep is a great idea, seeing as I spent the entire flight holding your hair and your hand. Now, why don’t we take this little plate, see where that bedroom is, strip down and snuggle each other into oblivious sleep?”
“It’s the entire top floor, remember? We talked about this. It’s the only room where we don’t have to share a bathroom.”
Kris shakes his head. “It was a figure of speech. Have you always been this literal, or has the baby done this to you?”
“I don’t feel good, and you're being obnoxious.” I roll my eyes standing before grabbing the plate and drink. Kris grabs our things and just follows after me.
After a little sleep, I wake to Kris snoring lightly beside me. I run my hand across his chest. Stopping when I can feel his heartbeat. It’s so much different than mine. That’s something I’ve found interesting. My heart beats just a bit faster than everyone else’s. Well, almost everyone. Kris’ and mine always seem to beat in the same rhythm.
Smiling to myself, I climb from the bed and head for the shower.
As Kris and I both hate clothes while we sleep, I’m basically stripped and have to stop as I catch my reflection in the floor-length mirror. Kris doesn’t have any of these. Come to think of it, the only mirrors are above the bathroom sinks. So this is the first time I’ve seen my entire body since this whole thing with him began.
Good skin, a nice shape. I love my body, even if some have told me it needed changes. I wasn’t the kid that fasted or indulged too much. I couldn’t- not if I wanted to be here. I never much worried about my scar. While I love my tattoos, it was dad that thought maybe I should try and mask my proof of life. While I may not have earned this heart, I try every day to deserve it.
I turn, looking myself over, I haven’t been on a scale, but there is some increase in my curves. What can I say? Kris feeds me well, and I feed him better? The little increase is nice, but I can’t help to worry about what this added stress is going to do to my heart. I know that it has a finite amount of beats and that I’m not going to be here as long as I want to. I just hope that I get to hold our child and that its first breath is not my last.
My hands travel down to my not-yet swollen belly, and my eyes follow in the mirror. “I just wanna meet you,” I whisper, swallowing the lump in my throat, not seeing Kris until his hands are around me and covering mine. My eyes don’t lift, even as he kisses my shoulder with care.
“Are you feeling any better?” He whispers against my skin.
Nodding, I turn in his arms and bury my head into his bare chest, if only so he cannot see the tears that are stinging my eyes. “I love you.”
He hugs me tighter, kissing the top of my head. “How’s about a nice warm bath? I think I spy some bath oils on the ledge, we could check them out, and I can wash your hair.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “That sounds nice.” I’ll take anything right now to shift my thoughts, and Kris is certainly the king of distractions.
