Page 53 of Forever Christmas
“What do you mean?” I ask. “The sonogramisthe very next thing.”
“Nope,that’s way down the line,” he says. “First, I’m going to take off your pants.” He grins at me and tugs at the waistband of my pajamas.
They slide off and he tosses them on the floor. “Picking that up is way, way down the line,” he says.
This does make me crack a smile.
“Then these go on.” He tugs maternity jeans over my ankles. They slide up easily. Mom sent them last week when I told her Iwas just leaving my normal jeans unsnapped. This offended her somewhat prudish sensibilities.
And theyweremore comfortable, I had to admit.
She took care not to send anything I had worn with Finn. The box of my old maternity clothes is still in my old room in the closet.
I’m not sure I can ever wear those again.
These are new, still a little stiff. But Gavin gets them up. “This stretch panelis convenient,” he says, sliding his hand down inside. “Lots of room.”
Now I have to laugh, at least a little, and slap his hand. “You already did your damage down there,” I say.
“And I will do it again and again.”
I sober up a little at that because I know we haven’t been doing it again and again, not lately. I’m so sick, and so afraid. Every bump, every sudden movement, every time I tripon my own feet, I’m afraid I will hurt something and cause another baby to die. Sex seems impossible.
“Next is the shirt,” he says, lifting the bottom of my pajama top. I have to set down the pillow to give him room.
The air hits my skin as he works it over my head.
“Mmm, maybe we’ll stay this way for a bit,” he says. His hand traces the underside of a breast.
I’ll admit, I do feel a twingeof interest when he does that.
Gavin picks up the T-shirt. “Dang, a bra. Let me look.” He looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “Or can I convince you to go without?”
All right, he’s got me. My mood has lifted.
“Not a chance,” I say. “At least not in public.”
He lets out a big heavy sigh. “Worth a shot.”
“Top drawer,” I say. “The peach one.”
He grabs it. “Uh, this is not what I expected.” Heholds it up. “There’s no hooks.”
I sit up and take it from him. “It’s an athletic bra,” I say. “Underwire is just too much right now.”
Gavin watches as I pull it on, then I pick up the shirt from the bed.
“Can you get me a brush?” I ask.
He jumps up, relief on his face that I’m coming around. I always do for him. He has that magic over me.
“Let me,” he says.
The brush makes my scalp tingleas he runs it through my long hair. He finds a few tangles and carefully presses against my head so he won’t pull too hard.
By the time he’s done, I feel relaxed and good.
“Ready?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.
“Ready,” I say. I should have had more faith in him.
Faith in myself.
And in the baby.
I pick up the rainbow butterfly and take his hand. Then we’re off to the car, heading to thedoctor’s office.
And on to whatever we’ll have to deal with next.
