Page 35 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
Her lips move under mine, and she shifts, deepening the kiss. I open my lips so that I can taste her. My pulse is thumping in my throat. Her nose brushes mine as she moves her lips, pressing a kiss on the corner of my mouth.
I don’t want this to end. But I know the lines we’ve drawn, and with all my strength I stop rubbing circles on her waist and pull my mouth from hers.
She stares up at me, lips parted and rosy from kissing. Her eyes are kind of sleepy. The pulse beating at the base of her throat begs for my lips, but I use every ounce of self control I have and pull away. I bite my lip and rub the back of my neck. I want this. Every day. With her.
She slips her hand into mine, and without a word we head back inside.
Chapter 16
Raegan - The Present
Igroanandstretchas far as my enormous belly will allow, slowly sliding into the car after my appointment. It’s like a bullet; I’m a giant missile. Baby Bean is due to make her appearance any day now. Really, she should’ve been here eleven days ago.Sigh. Jenn, my midwife is on speed dial, and my birthing supplies have been sitting in the den for several weeks now.
Forty-one weeks and four days today. I know it’s common to go over with the first, but come on, Baby Bean.It’s time!Since I’ve gone over forty weeks, I’ve had a few extra checks. And of course, the OB wants to just induce me, but Jenn is confident that Baby Bean will come on her own, and that an induction won't be necessary.
Mom looks over at me as she starts the car. “I’m certain she’ll come soon, girlie. She can’t stay in there forever.” She squeezesmy arm in a comforting gesture. She has had three children, so she would know.
“I feel like she plans to stay in there forever. But I’m so ready to hold her in my arms.” I try to sigh, but my lungs can’t fully inflate. Baby Bean has taken up every spare inch and then some in my little torso. I finger my horseshoe necklace. “I wish Austin were here.”
Mom knows about the horrid phone conversation on New Years Eve. I haven’t tried to contact him since. But I also haven’t gotten over him. Chrissy has offered to go to Atlanta and haul him back to Texas by his ear lobes. The thought of that makes me laugh. She would do it too. But it’s out of our hands. It’s up to God. And Austin. I’m still not as close to God as I once was. I’m trying, but there’s still so much pain there.
Mom leans over and wraps her arms around me. “I know you do. I wish he was here for your sake as well. But maybe God has some work to do on him to prepare him for his role as a dad.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
We roll out of the parking lot slowly and head for the highway. “Do we need to stop for a milkshake on the way home?” Mom asks. Comfort shakes. That’s what we’ve taken to calling them.
I twist my head, looking at Mom from where I lean back against the seat, attempting to get comfortable. “It’s never a bad time for shakes. Thank you, Jesus, that I don’t have gestational diabetes.” We both laugh.
Due to my work hours, I’d been staying in the apartment over the café during most of my pregnancy. It was just easierto take one flight of steps to work instead of getting up at three am, getting ready, and driving thirty minutes to work. But once I hit thirty-eight weeks, I switched back to staying with Mom and Dad just in case I went into labor. Granted, Mom could just drive to the café and help me birth there, but it’ll be easier at my parents house.
I’ve been achy since returning from my appointment this morning. I declined a dilation check, so maybe, just maybe, this achiness is a sign of impending labor? I twist and stretch my back. I’ve been peppered all day with “you look ready to pop”, “weren’t you due yesterday?”And “you look so tired”comments. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at a few of the comments. I know some were well meaning, but others were just rude, or plain nosy.
The dishes are finally done, and as I put some of them away, a band of pressure wraps around my belly. “Woah. I think that was a contraction.”
Mom is with me at the café today. She’s wanted to be on hand just in case I go into precipitous labor and deliver on the spot. She hops up from where she’s wiping down a shelf. “Are you sure?” Her cleaning rag falls to the floor, and she reaches out to put a hand on my belly.
“I’m not going to fall over. And she’s not going to fall out of me right now, Mom.”
“But you never know.” Mom’s eyes are wide, her hands bracing me as if she needs to catch me from falling, or grab Baby Bean as she falls out.
“It was one tiny bit of pressure. Probably nothing, could’ve just been Baby Bean stretching.”
Mom huffs a disappointed breath. “Okay, fine. But if we need to go home and fill up that birth pool let me know.” She raises one eyebrow and gives me the mom look.
I put my hands up on her shoulders, and smile. “Mom, if I feel like Baby Bean is going to fall out, I’ll let you know.” The bell on the front door interrupts the moment. “I’m going to go see what this customer wants.” I peck Mom’s cheek and leave the kitchen.
Rob and Riley fall into the room, arguing over who gets the final cream cheese chocolate chip cookie. I should’ve known it would be them. Since Mom has been helping me the past few weeks, the boys have come straight to the café after school.
The cookies they're after is a recipe I found a few months ago, and it was an instant hit. The cream cheese gives them a smoothness that I haven’t been able to find in any other chocolate chip cookie. They’re soft and melty, and have become the most requested cookie in the café.
I make it around the refrigerated display case and pause, another band of pressure wrapping around the top of my abdomen. I breathe out slowly and count how many seconds the pressure lasts for.
“Why are you just standing there?” Rob cocks his head and gives me a strange look.
“Are you having the babyright now?” Riley’s auburn brows nearly touch his hairline, and his eyes are as big as the cookies he and his twin have been arguing over.
Mom races out of the kitchen, skidding across the floor. “Is it time?”
