Page 48 of Because of Them

“I’m hungry! Let me out!”

My whining is met with another squeal and a fit of laughter from Maisie.

“Almost done,” Michael calls out. I fall back on the bed at his words, knowing I shouldn’t lie on my back but doing it anyway. My eyes flitter shut to lessen the harsh stripe of light that cuts across the bed, and my face.

I breathe slow, the way the midwife showed me, and allow my tense muscles to relax against the soft pillow.

“Audrey?” I feel his whisper underneath my ear. By the time I coax my eyes open, Michael has stood up, and back. Maisie steps forward, one hand outstretched to help me up, the other clinging to a giant bouquet of fresh white lilies.

I roll to my side, then use the strength in my arms to push up to a seated posting.

“You have to come see!” Maisie bounces on the spot. I grab the flowers from her, then let her take my free hand to drag me down the hall towards the kitchen and living space.

Stepping out of the hallway, I freeze to appreciate all that they’ve done. The dining table has been covered with butchers paper, and three tiny easels are lined up on one side. A rainbow of paint tubes are scattered between the easels, and each ‘place setting’ is complete with a canvas, a paper plate, a cup of water, and a collection of brushes.

“Let me take these.” Michael stretches around me, taking the flowers from my hands.

He unwraps them, then places the bouquet in the crystal vase sitting in the centre of the table. Thenewcrystal vase.

Maisie wraps her arms around my leg and I lean down as far as I can to hug her. Looking up to Michael I beckon for him to join us. He envelops me with his arms, trapping Maisie between us. We sway a little, off balance in our three-way hug, but the moment is everything I ever wanted and more, and I never want it to end.

“Happy birthday.” Michael plants a kiss on my forehead.

In response, a low grumble from my stomach cuts through the peaceful silence and we laugh together.

“Dinner first?” I ask.

Michael steps away, around the island bench to the platter of food. Fried chicken, hot chips, fresh rolls, and a decent side ofgravy. And a cheesy cauliflower bake. The meal itself is nothing flash, but it means so much more.

“Hot chicken and chips,” I mutter under my breath. My smile spreads wider. It’s the one meal I’ve consistently been craving all pregnancy, and he remembered.

“Sorry it’s nothing special,” Michael starts as he serves our dinner. “I wanted something I knew you would enjoy and I’m not very g—”

“It’s perfect.”

He stands a little taller and the slight wrinkle between his brows flattens.

“I think we’re running out of fruit,” he adds, gesturing at the cauliflower bake. “At twenty-six weeks the babies are, apparently, the size of a cauliflower. I figured this might taste a bit better.”

When he hands me the first roll, I devour it. But I take my time enjoying the rest of the meal. There’s no need for small talk between the three of us, we just sit in comfortable silence as we eat my birthday dinner.

Maisie has only eaten half of her sandwich—and three servings of chips with gravy—when she declares she is full.

“Michael,” she asks in her chirpy voice, “will you live here when the babies are born? Because you’re their dad. Or will they go spend half their weeks at your house like I do with my dad?”

Michael and I pause, sharing a glance. He sucks in a quick inhale, letting it out slowly before he answers.

“The babies will need to stay with your mum while they are little. And I will be wherever she needs or wants me.”

Here,I realise after he says the words. I want him here. I don’t want to handle the sleepless nights and exhausting days on my own. But for him to live here … I don’t know. It’s like we’ve been taking baby steps this whole time, carefully adding layers to our budding relationship. But him moving in? I neverwanted to fall into a relationshipbecauseof the babies and if they weren’t a factor we wouldn’t even be considering it. So, if he did, what would that mean for us? It would be a giant leap in our relationship that we wouldn’t be taking if the babies weren’t a factor.

He must see the thoughts racing through my mind, because he reaches past Maisie to hold my hand.

“But we haven’t talked about it yet,” he says, turning back to Maisie. “We can figure it out closer to when the babies are due.”

I’m still thinking about it while Michael clears away the dishes, adding it to my list of things to do and figure out. When I sit down in front of one of the easels, my mind finally clears. I’m ready to get lost in the creative juices that flow as soon as I have a paintbrush in my hand.

Michael clears his throat before he sits down. “I thought we could all paint the flowers. They are lilies, which symbolise new growth and change. It seemed fitting for our lives right now.” He twists a paintbrush between his fingers and adds, “I hope it’s okay.”

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