Page 12 of The Baby
September
Ellie
It was official.I could no longer fit into my jeans. Actually any pants. I had gotten by all summer in loose skirts and sundresses, but now the temperature was starting to drop and some days called for jeans. I got around it for a while using a rubber band through the button hole trick I saw on Facebook. But now it was official. Even my I’m-having-my-period fat jeansdidn’tfit.
I pulled them off and tossed them into the pile with all my other jeans. I found a pair of leggings that while snug around my belly still had enough stretch in them. I tossed a loose shirt over them, put my cowboy boots on, and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror we had added to thebedroom.
Ilooked…fat.
Which was upsetting, but it was a little better than thepword.
I was officially at fourteen weeks. I think Jake felt I might be over the whole fear thing now, but I wasn’t. In fact now it was even scarier, because this thing that was popping out of my belly was real. There was no denying it now. Last time I had never made it to the pants-not-fittingstage.
Needing to get out of my head, I headed for the barn. I still hadn’t gotten on top of Petunia. Hadn’t tried since my last attempt, but that didn’t mean I didn’t visit herregularly.
I walked out back and across the open yard toward the barn and stopped. I took a deep breath and smelled all the things one usually does on a cattle ranch. Hay and horse andhorseshit.
However, for the first time in almost three months the smell didn’t make me nauseous. In fact it was strange, but thinking about it I felt good. Really good. I had been sleeping most days until eight in the morning. Taking cat naps around four in the afternoon, and if I was counting, it had been a full three days since I’dpuked.
I considered thanking the k word, but then I would have to admit there was a k word and then I would get all jitteryagain.
I don’t know why I couldn’t get past this crazy worry in my head. I could tell it was starting to bother Jake. Not in a bad way, but he wanted to be excited about the k word and I still wasn’t ready to let thathappen.
What if he got excited and something went wrong? What would that do to him now, when he thought I was in the clear, past the twelve-week mark? It would be even more devastatingforhim.
Me too, Isuppose.
I made my way into the barn, tossing the apple I had brought for Petunia between my hands, trying not to think about anything at all. She must have smelled me, because she lifted her head and gave me a few excitedheadbobs.
“Hey, my precious Petunia,” I crooned to her. I held up the apple and she started to take bites from my hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to ride you. You must be missing that. I know I am. Seems like I’m disappointingeveryone.”
Because not only had I not been riding my horse, I definitely had not been riding my husband. All that time being so sick I just had no energy for sex, forget the weird paranoiathing.
There had been that one time in the shower when I had given him a hand job… actually it was more like he used my hand to give himself a hand job, which had been kind of hot. I’d had about ten seconds of arousal watching his face when he came, but then my stomach acted up and, yep, you guessed it… morevomit.
Double sexytimes.
Still, I didn’t think it was the lack of sex that was starting to upset him. “I think it’s the lack of me, Petunia. I’ve been… a little out of it. I can’t seem to get out of my head and I’m not letting Jake insideeither.”
There was a loud noise at the barn door and I could see Cody dropping off some shovels. I think he dropped them on purpose so I would know he was there and stop talking to my horse like a crazyperson.
Except I didn’t think talking to my horse wascrazy.
“Yes,” I said in a hoity voice. “You caught me talking toPetunia.”
He tilted the front of his baseball cap with his two fingers in greeting. “Nothing wrong with that, ma’am. Had a horse of my own I used totalkto.”
Of course he had a horse. One he would have ridden on the circuit. “You talked to yourhorse?”
He stepped up next to me and started to rub Petunia between the ears, her favorite spot. “All the time. If you asked me, shetalkedback.”
“What washername?”
“Snickers. She was a paint. All patches of white, dark brown and light brown. I would take her out riding and talk to her for hours. She was a goodlistener.”
“Snickers,” I said smiling at the name. “What happenedtoher?”
His face got tight. “A bad fall. Broken leg. She had to beputdown.”
