“He’s at a pizza party with the soccer team, so you’re stuck with me for now. Come here.” I pull her into my arms and feel her against me. “I love you,” I whisper in her ear.
She pulls back and runs a hand through my hair.
“I love you too. And you need a haircut.” Her fingers get tangled in my curls.
We walk to the kitchen, and while she warms up whatever Myra left in the fridge, I set the table in the kitchen. I go so far as to dim the lights, light candles, and pour sparkling apple cider in wine glasses.
“Myra is a saint,” Vickie says. “She made me lemon chicken soup with dumplings, and yucky fish for you.” She puts the perfectly plated food on the table. “Are you excited about playing again?” she asks. She smells the soup before putting a little in her mouth. She must find it acceptable because she takes another spoonful.
“I am.” I take her hand and intertwine our fingers. “I’m looking forward to eating with you after each game. And I promise I won’t shut you out when we lose.” I put her hand to my lips and kiss it. “And whenever you can get to an away game, I’d love that too.” I drop her hand and lay my free one on her stomach. “At least until you’re too far along to travel.”
She puts the spoon down and looks away as if deep in thought. My stomach drops and I put down my own fork.
“I want to talk to you about something,” she says. I stop breathing and wait. “If the baby is a boy, I want to name him after my dad, John Phillip Taylor.”
I’m so relieved, I let out a loud laugh at the table. “Darlin’, any boy would be lucky to have that name, but it will be John Phillip Taylor Chastain.” I rub her stomach. “And if it’s a girl, I want to name her after Mama.”
She rolls her eyes at me but grins. “We’ll see. It’s moot because it’s a boy.” She sticks her tongue out at me.
“When are we going to go public, Queen? I love our little bubble, but I want the world to know we’re a family. And I want to marry you.” I put my hand on her stomach again. I can’t stop touching it. Knowing that a life we created together is in there does things to me.
“You are so demanding, Chastain. You know I’m not the marrying type.”
It’s me who rolls my eyes this time. “It’s fine if you come into the marriage kickin’ and screamin’. I’m used to it.”
“Things are good. We’re happy. We know we’re together. Let’s wait a little longer. I still get sick, and I don’t want pictures taken of me yet. I want to enjoy our private life a little bit more.”
“Okay.” I lift her hand and kiss it. “I did agree to do this your way.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “Though, you’re going to give us away when you braid my hair for the first game.”
“You’re getting a haircut tomorrow but forget about that for now. How long until Evan comes home.”
“A couple of hours.”
She pushes her half-eaten bowl of soup away. “I feel really good right now, Chastain.” She gets up and surprises me by sitting on my lap. Her hand goes inside my sweatpants next. “Do you know what I mean?”
I stand with her in my arms and run to the bedroom.
SIXTY
He’s lyingbetween my legs, kissing the top of my breasts while we enjoy the afterglow of our lovemaking. I’ve been so sick that this is the first time since Atlanta that we’ve made love. That’s probably when we conceived the baby, and as much of a surprise as it was, I wouldn’t change it. I’ve loved it since I first suspected I was pregnant. I run my hand down Colt’s sweaty back, enjoying the feel of him.
“How was therapy?” he asks as he kisses his way up before taking the spot next to me and pulling me closer.
We turn to face each other, and I intertwine our naked legs under the blanket. I shrug and say, “Meh.”
He waits for me to say more, and when I don’t, he says, “Can you expand on that, darlin’?”
I sigh as I gather my thoughts. “Mother cried the entire time. Tara lost her patience and yelled at her, threatening never to return if she can’t get her shit together and speak. Alan held her hand and tried to make her feel better, and I stayed detached. The highlight was when she said she felt not only trapped being a wife and mother, but she was bored to death by it. And then she burst into tears.”
He let out a long whistle into the bedroom. I inch closer to his naked body, ready to leave the unpleasant conversation behind. The room is dark and warm, and since I’m feeling so good now, all I want to do is be close to him.
“Next time will be better,” he says.
“I don’t want to go back. It was awful. This is to make her feel better, but I’ll go. I’ve figured out that I’ve been punishing her all this time, and I built this wall around myself because I never want to be hurt like that again, but—” I run my hand across his chest.
“But?”
“If I continue to do that, I might miss out on this. And what we have is too good. I love you. I love Evan, and I love this baby too.”
