AllFreeNovel
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They return the greeting with bright smiles, then wander the perimeter of the store. The woman runs her aged fingertips over the dried flowers and wispy grasses. Her eyes scan the bins before she leans forward and inhales the dried lavender, followed by the eucalyptus. The man with her follows two steps behind, hands clasped behind his back, eyes on her. A small smile highlights his weathered skin as he watches her with love in his eyes.
My first thought is that may be Devlyn and me one day. Meandering a store, one of us shopping while the other observes in companionable silence. Simply happy because we exist in the same space.
Then I shake off the errant thought.
My relationship with Devlyn hasn’t broached six months yet. Although things are progressing quicker than imaginable, thinking about us together with gray hair and a hobble in our step is a bit of stretch. Although I don’t foresee a day without Devlyn in my life, flashing forward to our retirement years isn’t ideal.
While the couple scans the flower selection near the meadow painting, I covertly—at least I hope it’s covertly—watch them. Watch the way she plucks stems from the pails and lifts them to smell before deciding whether to put it back or hold on to it for purchase. Then I shift my gaze to him. Watch the way he stands just a step back and off to the side. Watch the way he studies her every move with a keen eye and slightly leans in her direction. The longer I stare, the more my heart melts at the sight.
Idowant that. The simple happiness of existing in the same space as someone you love. To find joy in the small things, like the way they look at a flower or brush the hair from their face.
“Brought you lunch.”
I jump back, slap a hand to my chest and nearly knock over the vase of flowers I’d been working on. “Holy sh—” I pivot and catch sight of Devlyn. “Jesus. Make noise or something.” Planting my palms on the table, I take a deep breath and give him my sharpest side-eye. “Scared the sh— crap out of me.”
He leans in and kisses my temple. “To be fair, I did call your name. Twice, actually.” His gaze drifts to the older couple. “But you were preoccupied.”
“You did?”
A soft smile turns up the corners of his mouth as he notices what had my attention. “I did.” His eyes drift back to mine as his smile deepens. “But I see why you were distracted. They’re adorable to watch.”
“That they are.” I twist to face him fully. “You brought me lunch?”
He holds up a white paper bag. “Yes. Sandwiches from the deli. Hope that’s good.”
I nod as my stomach groans in agreement. “Let me go find Elizabeth so we can take lunch.”
“Already done.” Devlyn leans his hip on the heavy arrangement table. “When she let me in through the back, she said to give her a minute.”
The words leave his lips just as Elizabeth enters the shop from the storage room. Sidling up to me, she lays a hand on my shoulder. “Go enjoy your lunch.” I start to argue about not finishing the arrangement, but she sweeps it from the table and stows it in the storage cooler. “It’ll be here when you’re done. Now go.”
Is this how it will be throughout pregnancy? Being parented, but not, all over again. Family and friends treating me as if I am fragile. Earlier, I went to pick up a box and Elizabeth rushed to my side. Told me not to lift it. The box weighed maybe seven pounds, which is nothing. Hell, most babies weigh that much when they are born.
I wish everyone wouldn’t handle me as if I am breakable. Yes, I carry precious cargo, but my body is quite capable of physical activity. And while it’s still possible, I’d like to do what my body will allow.
In the pamphlets I’d read, exercise and routine fitness are encouraged during pregnancy. Obviously certain movements and higher weights are off-limits, but lifting is permissible unless otherwise instructed by the doctor.
Inhaling deeply, I move past the notion that everyone will treat me with kid gloves. I remind myself they are looking out for me and the well-being of the baby. Their actions aren’t meant to offend or suggest I am incapable. They love me and want the pregnancy to progress without hiccups.
“Got you the same sandwich as last time,” Devlyn says as he pulls the food from the bag.
“Sounds perfect.”
We take our seats and peel back the butcher paper around the sandwiches. Take the lid off the fruit cups. Dive into our sandwiches and enjoy the first bite as the flavors hit our tongues.
Except mine doesn’t taste right. Or smell right.
I swallow the bite as my nose bunches. Slowly, I lift the sandwich to my nose and sniff. An odd tang hits my nasal cavity and I push away the offending scent. Set the sandwich on the butcher paper and peel back the bread. Inspect the cheese as if it were a suspect in a murder investigation. Narrow my eyes at the offensive smell.
“What’s the matter?”
“The cheese smells off.”
Devlyn sets his sandwich down and picks mine up. Lifting it to his nose, he inhales the unpleasant odor, only he doesn’t seem as perturbed. He sniffs it again. Then again. No wince or offensive look. No puckered nose indicating disgust. Devlyn just appears… normal.
Damnit.
Please, please, please tell me this is not a pregnancy thing. Because not being able to eat the foods I love is unacceptable. I love cheese. All the cheeses.
