Page 106 of Homestead

I’m so tired that, despite the worries, my eyes are already drifting closed. It’s been such a long evening, long day, long week, longyear. But then I suddenly remember something. My eyes pop open. “Oh. Did you want me to give you a?—”

“No!” He’s grumpy again. “You’re exhausted.”

“I could still?—”

“No! We’re not doin’ that anymore.”

I’m so startled by the words that I peer down at him in the dark. “You don’t want blow jobs anymore?” My voice wobbles a little.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Course I want blow jobs,” he mumbles. “When you wanna do it and are in the mood. Not when you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. I’m not gonna let you do it just ’cause you think you gotta—like it’s a job or somethin’. I only want it when you really want it too.”

My cheeks warm with a self-conscious kind of emotional pleasure. I curl up at his side again, wrapping one arm around his waist. His belly is the only part of him that isn’t firm. I love cuddling against him. “Okay. Usually I want to do it, but I am pretty tired tonight.”

“I know you are. So tonight we’re just gonna sleep. Believe it or not, I’m kind of tired too.”

I smile, closing my eyes. “But it is my job, you know.”

“What?”

“Taking care of you. Making you happy. It is my job.Myresponsibility and no one else’s. It always will be.”

He’s silent for a minute, but I feel his emotional response shuddering in the air of the room. Then he clears his throat. “As long as you don’t forget that it’s mutual. Taking care of you and making you happy is my job too.”

* * *

Four months later, it’s November, which means it’s been one full year since I met Jimmy. I wake up on a Wednesday morning, excited about the day.

The strenuous work of harvesttime is over. For a couple of months, Jimmy and I were working so hard and such long hours that we could barely move at the end of the days. He had to stay at his parents’ for days at a time to help with reaping, threshing, and winnowing the wheat. Amelia came and stayed with me whenever he was gone for more than a couple of days at a time.

All the time he was working somewhere else, I was responsible for all the work at home—not just the daily chores but also getting in the last produce from our garden and then canning as much of it as I could.

But the hardest work is done. There’s not much to be done in the winter except the basics of keeping us and the animals alive. The season might be cold and dark and wet and sometimes icy, but it also gives us a lot of time at home alone.

Today, however, we have an actual task. We need baby supplies. A few of the women are sewing us some baby clothes—I’m fine with mending but not good enough yet to make a garment from scratch—and Jimmy can build any furniture we need. But some things will be hard to make or improvise, and there’s an old discount store about twenty miles away that still has a lot of stuff buried in the rubble.

That’s where Jimmy has always gone to scavenge stuff we need. All the food and medication and emergency supplies were looted years ago, but there are other items still available with enough digging around. He’s uncovered some extra clothes and shoes for me. He’s found me stacks of mystery and romance books. He took me there once and let me pick out some pretty rugs and curtains and throw pillows for the house.

But today we’re going to look for baby stuff.

At our best guess, I’m not even six months along yet, but the last trimester will go quickly, and we want to be ready before the bad winter weather arrives.

So we’re going to sacrifice some of the gas in the ATV and drive there. (Cal and Rachel very generously filled it up with their extra supply before they headed back home, so we still have plenty of gas remaining.) Then we’ll come back with as many baby supplies as we can pull out of the rubble.

I’m excited. About the trip. About the baby stuff. And about the baby.

I have a noticeable bump now. And pretty soon we’ll have a son or daughter.

It still makes me nervous sometimes. Giving birth without a hospital or medication or equipment for emergencies. And I’m still anxious about the gangs on the border. They haven’t made any more direct attacks, but they’re pushing against the boundaries more than they used to, and it still feels like they’re up to something.

But the truth is I’m not as afraid as I would have expected. Most of the time, I’m incredibly happy in my life with Jimmy. At peace.

And there’s no reason not to hope for it to keep getting better.

After we’ve gotten dressed, done our morning chores, and eaten breakfast, I wander into our small second room while Jimmy uses the outhouse.

We’ve been working on the room for months now. Jimmy built a wall of shelves to put the extra supplies we’ve always kept in there and all my books, leaving plenty of room for the baby furniture. He’s already built a changing table with compartments beneath it for supplies. I’ve put pretty yellow curtains up on the window and a green, brown, and yellow area rug on the floor.

I rub my rounded belly and smile at the small space.

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