plan on wearing this getup all day long. In public or private.
Sliding his boots on, he looks up and smiles. What? Did I get sucked into Kyndall’s closet without knowing it and now reside in a parallel universe where Blake’s actually smiling again?
He looks down at the basket full of clothes. “Need any help?”
“Nope, I’m fine.” I signal to his boots. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
His face falls a bit before answering. “I have an errand to run. I’ll be back soon. What time are the girls getting back?”
“They went to the noon movie, so probably around two-thirty-ish, I guess.” I narrow my eyes, still wondering where he’s going. Not that he sees me. He’s halfway down the hall already.
“Cool. I’ll be back soon.” I barely hear him over the clanking of his boots on the wood floors.
“Okay?” I ask because, number one, there’s no way he heard me over the front door shutting so why am I even saying it, and number two, I’m still questioning where he’s so eagerly going.
After a few seconds of staring out the doorway, like an idiot, I let out a yawn. Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe, I should just go back to sleep. Yes. Excellent plan, Alex.
I sit down on our brand new bed, and lay back, watching the ceiling fan go around and around as I think and sigh. More circles.
Where exactly did Blake and I get off of Loving Couple Road and turn on to Distant Marriage Avenue. I shut my eyes because I feel the tears coming. Damn hormones. I wipe the first tear as it escapes my eye, but after the tenth one, I just let them fall.
After a long while, I manage to emotionally exhaust myself. Feeling myself drifting to sleep, the last thought on my mind is Blake and his arms around me, bringing me the reassuring comfort and peace that my mind and body long for.
I wake to the blissful noise of my cell, dinging over and over again, reminding me that next week Blake and I head to Dr. Young’s office to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl. Normally, I’d jump up, smile, and set it to remind me again tomorrow.
But not today.
Today, my heart hurts and I can’t seem find it in me to conjure up one bit of excitement.
I miss my husband.
Stretching my arms above my head, I make sure my body is fully awake before hauling my ass off the bed. Finally, when I feel ready to stand, I grab the basket off the floor and open the bedroom door. My eyes immediately make contact with the reason for one of our latest arguments.
Poking my head just barely into the room across from ours, I flip on the light and my chest aches at the barren sight before me. Crib, changing table, dresser…all still in their boxes. Stuffed animals, toys, clothes…still in store bags. Swatches of paint all over the wall. We have been at an outright standoff regarding the color of the baby’s room. He wants light yellow. Puke . I would prefer a darker color because I have serious issues with pastels for some reason. Always have, always will. Blake, however, is obviously very secure in his manhood, because he loves them.
So, I put my foot down. And that’s where it ended.
The subject has not been broached since and, obviously , neither has the room. Shaking my head, I back out. As the door closes, my eardrums are pummeled by the shrieking, squealing, laughing and, of course, arguing of my daughters.
I enter the living room, just barely making out the tops of the girls’ heads over the brand new couches. As they’re excitedly jumping around on their knees, my eyes move to where Blake’s standing with Trace and Tatum, all watching the girls with smiles on their faces. Off in the distance I catch sight of Harlow, who’s also grinning from ear to ear, but when we make eye contact she quickly loses the grin, replacing it with an “ Oh, shit” look.
I set the basket down on the brand new end table and turn the corner to find out just what the hell is worth the “Oh, shit” grimace on my friend’s face. As soon
Sliding his boots on, he looks up and smiles. What? Did I get sucked into Kyndall’s closet without knowing it and now reside in a parallel universe where Blake’s actually smiling again?
He looks down at the basket full of clothes. “Need any help?”
“Nope, I’m fine.” I signal to his boots. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”
His face falls a bit before answering. “I have an errand to run. I’ll be back soon. What time are the girls getting back?”
“They went to the noon movie, so probably around two-thirty-ish, I guess.” I narrow my eyes, still wondering where he’s going. Not that he sees me. He’s halfway down the hall already.
“Cool. I’ll be back soon.” I barely hear him over the clanking of his boots on the wood floors.
“Okay?” I ask because, number one, there’s no way he heard me over the front door shutting so why am I even saying it, and number two, I’m still questioning where he’s so eagerly going.
After a few seconds of staring out the doorway, like an idiot, I let out a yawn. Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe, I should just go back to sleep. Yes. Excellent plan, Alex.
I sit down on our brand new bed, and lay back, watching the ceiling fan go around and around as I think and sigh. More circles.
Where exactly did Blake and I get off of Loving Couple Road and turn on to Distant Marriage Avenue. I shut my eyes because I feel the tears coming. Damn hormones. I wipe the first tear as it escapes my eye, but after the tenth one, I just let them fall.
After a long while, I manage to emotionally exhaust myself. Feeling myself drifting to sleep, the last thought on my mind is Blake and his arms around me, bringing me the reassuring comfort and peace that my mind and body long for.
I wake to the blissful noise of my cell, dinging over and over again, reminding me that next week Blake and I head to Dr. Young’s office to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl. Normally, I’d jump up, smile, and set it to remind me again tomorrow.
But not today.
Today, my heart hurts and I can’t seem find it in me to conjure up one bit of excitement.
I miss my husband.
Stretching my arms above my head, I make sure my body is fully awake before hauling my ass off the bed. Finally, when I feel ready to stand, I grab the basket off the floor and open the bedroom door. My eyes immediately make contact with the reason for one of our latest arguments.
Poking my head just barely into the room across from ours, I flip on the light and my chest aches at the barren sight before me. Crib, changing table, dresser…all still in their boxes. Stuffed animals, toys, clothes…still in store bags. Swatches of paint all over the wall. We have been at an outright standoff regarding the color of the baby’s room. He wants light yellow. Puke . I would prefer a darker color because I have serious issues with pastels for some reason. Always have, always will. Blake, however, is obviously very secure in his manhood, because he loves them.
So, I put my foot down. And that’s where it ended.
The subject has not been broached since and, obviously , neither has the room. Shaking my head, I back out. As the door closes, my eardrums are pummeled by the shrieking, squealing, laughing and, of course, arguing of my daughters.
I enter the living room, just barely making out the tops of the girls’ heads over the brand new couches. As they’re excitedly jumping around on their knees, my eyes move to where Blake’s standing with Trace and Tatum, all watching the girls with smiles on their faces. Off in the distance I catch sight of Harlow, who’s also grinning from ear to ear, but when we make eye contact she quickly loses the grin, replacing it with an “ Oh, shit” look.
I set the basket down on the brand new end table and turn the corner to find out just what the hell is worth the “Oh, shit” grimace on my friend’s face. As soon
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