Page 83 of The Last Man on Earth
He’s catching lunch and dinner for us right now. I watch him, marveling at the way his muscles ripple as he concentrates on the water below him.
If I close my eyes, I can pretend we’re at home. I do that sometimes, envision us together on a bed, atop a floor made of wood, not sand. I pretend he takes me to a Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner, and we watch a movie instead of the trees.
Then I open my eyes and come back to reality.
But I’m not sure I even know where home is anymore.
Luther Vandross said a house is only a home whenyou’rethere, theyoubeing the love of your life. And I kinda think…if I went back to my condo tonight…it wouldn’t feel like home anymore.
That scares the shit out of me.
In other news, I pee a lot more now. Vincent says that’s normal.
The sex is a lot more intense. He says that’s normal, too.
We’ve started swimming. He says I need to stay active so that labor goes smoother. And that’s important. I’m already gonna have to push this baby out without drugs. I don’t need to be out of shape and winded while I do it.
Vincent says we’ll be rescued by then. But that’s just to keep me calm.
I realize my hand is on my stomach. That happens all the time now, me absentmindedly resting my hand there. I catch myself smiling for no reason, too. Not that I’m happy. I think I’m just…happy with the way things are right now.
Then I feel it.
“Vincent!” I call to him. “I just felt it move!”
“The baby?”
He damn near falls off the raft. I laugh as he paddles at warp speed, practically falling in the sand after he jumps off the raft and hits the ground hard.
His hand goes straight to my stomach. I watch his eyes, smiling big when they widen at the feel of the baby kicking against his palm.
“This is wild,” he says. “You ever trip off the fact that you’re carrying my child?”
“All the time.”
He sweeps me up in his arms, kissing my lips over and over until I squeal for him to stop.
“I can’t help myself,” he says against my mouth. “You so sexy, especially now with you growing my baby inside you.”
And then, like he does almost every other night, Vincent lays me down on the mat and makes love to me.
After, we walk along the shoreline, my hand tucked in his, our footprints side by side until the waves erase them. In my mind, I see a pair of tiny prints alongside ours, smiling at the thought of our little one walking along the beach between us.
It feels ridiculous to look forward to the day we bring a baby into this situation, but when I think of the alternative, it doesn’t seem so crazy.
We’re…relatively safe here. No guns on this island. No natural disasters so far. No rat race. No racism. Justus.
Things could definitely be worse.
“All I’m sayin’ is I’m good with it how it is.”
I roll my eyes. “And allI’msaying is that it’s not about you. It’s what I prefer.”
Vincent stares up at me from between my thighs. “I don’t know. This is a lot, even for me.”
“Baby, you took out my sew-in! What’s the difference?”
“The difference was that I wasn’t staring directly into your wet, juicy pussy while I did it.”
