That Baby by Jillian Dodd Page A

kisses the top of my head. “It’s not a big deal. I can run and get some or ask my mom to stop.”
    “I didn’t get everything on the list, Phillip. I was all excited because I didn’t feel sick this morning. Well, I was worried but excited.”
    “Why were you worried?”
    “Because if I’m not sick, couldn’t that mean I’m not pregnant anymore? Or that I’m going to lose the baby? But on the way to the store, I got nauseous, which made me feel better. So I was fine shopping—even though I couldn’t find anything, but then I went by the seafood. After that, no matter where I went in the store I could still smell it. I had to get out of there.”
    He pushes my chin up. “You got the beer.”
    “That’s all our friends care about. But it’s my first party in our home, Phillip. I want it to be perfect. And that’s not like me.”
    “You never stress over parties. You seem to throw them effortlessly.”
    “That’s because I always get the beer,” I laugh. “You’re right. The party will be fun because of who is here. It doesn’t matter if the house is perfectly done yet or if there’s a little dust. It’s our friends and family who matter.”
    “Exactly, right, Princess. Why don’t you stay where you are, tell me what to do, and I’ll make everything.”
    “I love you, Phillip,” I say gratefully, knowing I probably won’t be able to cook the hamburger for the cheese dip without gagging.  
    “Are you excited to open all our wedding presents tonight?” he asks.  
    “I am. It’s fun that we have room to put everything. I’m so glad that your mom made me keep my parents’ dining room set. It fits the room nicely.”
    “Still looks a little bare though.”
    “Well, we can’t do everything at once. We spent most of our budget on furnishing our very own sports bar in the basement.”
    “Worth every penny,” he says. “It’s an awesome room.”
    “It is. I figure we can save up. Do a room at a time. We still need a kitchen table too. I looked a little online but I want something special.”
    “Special how?”
    “I want pieces that mean something to us, not just pretty stuff to fill up the space, if that makes sense. Like my mom’s favorite painting was one she and my dad bought on their honeymoon. I think when we see what’s right, we’ll know it.”
    “The Plaza has an art fair every year. Maybe we could find something there,” he suggests.
    “I love that, Phillip. Maybe even a painting of the Plaza itself. Or our fountain. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
    He wipes his hands on a towel and takes mine. “You did all those sketches of what the inside of the offices will look like. Could you do that for our house? Our dream house book?”
    “That’s a great idea, Phillip. I’ll make drawings for each room. And it would be a great way for me to save paint and fabric swatches, decor ideas. In fact, I found a really cool chandelier for the nursery, and I saved a photo from one of the house magazines I was looking at on our flight home from the honeymoon.” I dig through my purse and show Phillip the photo. “See how they did contemporary wing backs at the heads of the table? I thought that would be so cool and give the table a more modern look. Hang on.” I grab an empty sketchpad from my office, sit back down at the bar, tape in the photo, then use a metallic marker to write on the front of the book.
    Dream House.
    I look at Phillip—really look at him—and my heart swells with love. “You’re pretty smart, Phillip. You’re going to make a great dad.”
    I am immediately rewarded with a long, sweet kiss.  

    I take a nap while Phillip makes a trip to the store.  
    When he gets back, he gently runs his hand across my face to wake me.  
    I sigh, feeling blissfully happy. I’m so lucky to be married to Phillip.  
    “I suppose I better get ready. Everyone will be here soon and I can’t wait to see what we got.”
    “We registered for some really cool stuff,” he