Page 36 of Having the Dragon's Baby

That was when Vincent walked up.

“You are the man,” Vincent said. “The man, the dragon, and the father to us all.”

“Everyone is having a good time,” Marcus answered. He was still feeling a little spooky, feeling a certain something-was-amiss vibe. Even with Vincent right there, he felt the heebie-jeebies stronger than before. Marcus decided he was going to keep the conversation with Vincent simple. This way, Marcus wouldn’t reduce his alertness.

“I bet the rest of the night will be great,” Vincent added. “Especially for your new mate in her green sequined dress.”

FIFTEEN

RACHEL

The teen band finished their last song, and some people started leaving right away. Some stayed. Rachel snuck off and changed out of her sequined dress. She donned loose clothing more appropriate for cleanup. Despite her exhaustion, she felt wonderful.

She didn’t need to help, but she wanted to. She wanted to do her part and really be a member of the den.

She couldn’t sit still as she was bursting with gratitude. Marcus was the man. Marcus had delivered a great speech, but Rachel was the one who really received the love and the accolades. She couldn’t wait to go to bed and snuggle with Marcus. Technically, it would be the three of them, Marcus, Rachel, and the baby, growing and surrounded by their love.

Outside near the grill, Rachel received stern but loving glances from the other women cleaning up. The looks basically warned Rachel to stay away from moving heavy chairs and big cleanup items and said that she had no business jeopardizing her precious cargo.

Inside the house, Rachel didn’t receive any fuzzy warm welcomes either. She helped the women in the dining room and the kitchen anyway. They did not, however, shoo her away. The women tolerated her help, but that tolerance was clearly paper thin.

“Girl, don’t you want to sit and kick your feet up?” one of the women asked. “We got this. Relax your body a bit.”

“I am a doer and a planner, not a sitter and a watcher,” Rachel replied. She said it sweetly, making lots of eye contact and making sure to smile with her eyes.

“I love your personality,” the woman said. “You are the me that I want to be. Have you picked names yet, or at least top choices?”

“Haven’t even put our toe in the water,” Rachel answered. “We just found out today that we’re expecting, and I am not sure Marcus or I remember much of the whole day except for learning we’re pregnant and having the cookout.”

“It’ll be like that the whole way,” the woman added. “It goes fast, total blur. What you and Marcus have is more important than anyone will be able to tell you. I hope you know you were glowing when you stood next to him in front of the whole crowd.”

“That is very sweet of you to say,” Rachel answered. “To be quite honest, I have felt myself glowing with joy since the moment I met the thunder.”

“Do you have a hunch or intuition on what gender your baby is?” a woman toward the back of the kitchen asked.

“I heard Grandma once mention that the tell-tale sign a girl is coming is you will dream about her before the bump shows,” Rachel shared. “I was also told in that same conversation that if it is a boy, the bump will be riding really low. I hope I am remembering this clearly.”

“You are correct,” two of the women concurred in unison. “Boys carry low,” one of them concluded.

“Another thing,” one of the women added. “The boys kick more when there is noise or when mama smells food. The girls kick when there’s emotional excitement. You find yourself carrying a baby who kicks when there are loud noises, an alpha male is coming.”

“I never experienced that,” one of the other women interjected. “Both of mine only kicked when I was trying to sleep or concentrate. It's like they were trying to stir the pot before coming out of the gate.”

The group laughed. Rachel wasn’t sure what to believe. It felt wonderful being included and hearing the variety of insights you can’t get from a book. Insight that could only be received from mouth to ear.

“Get as much sleep as you can grab,” one of the women added. “The next two years is kind of a contest where you gotta grab it where you can.”

“What about cravings?” Rachel asked. She was curious what the group would say.

“If it has sugar in it, pace yourself. Everything else is fair game,” one of the women noted.

The cleaning was finished for the most part. Everything shined and smelled good. The giant house and the air that flowed through it felt calm and peaceful. A contented hush settled over everything. Her family and the rest of the guests had already headed home at that point.

As cliché as it was, Rachel really felt the need to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. It would be maybe less than an hour, and she would be in bed, Marcus beside her, the baby growing in her womb.

After the last of the women left, she spotted two bags of garbage that needed to be taken out to the trash cans behind the house.

Rachel grabbed the sacks and dragged them outside. In the waning twilight, just beyond earshot, she noted the faint figures of Marcus and two other men folding up tables and moving them into the far storage shed.

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