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“Your sisters suggested we have two weddings. One here or some destination and then at my house.”
“Fab idea. What do you think?” he asks her.
She shrugs and picks at a French fry.
“Hell, we can go to the courthouse,” he tells her. She says nothing, and Quinn doesn’t notice.
I stuff my face to keep my mouth occupied. I hate thinking Quinn isn’t welcome because of his music. Which would mean our dad wouldn’t be welcome. Quinn would never go for that. Ever. Or Liam. As odd as it is, Liam’s known Quinn longer than he’s known his own son. There’s no way Quinn would get married without his family there.
“Ugh.” I push my food away, unable to eat another bite. I eye my sister, but she’s making googly faces at Ben and not paying attention to me.
“You good?” Noah asks.
I shrug.
He slips his hand under my blanket and caresses my thigh, and just like that I’m calm. Noah leans back and whispers, “Stop worrying about Quinn. He’s a big boy. If what Ben says is right, Quinn will deal with it. He doesn’t need his firecracker little sister fighting his battles.”
“I know, it just makes me sad.”
Noah kisses his favorite spot . . . well, one of them. “You can’t be sad,” he tells me. “In the morning we’re going to start our journey toward parenthood. Happy thoughts.”
I lean into him. “How do you do it?”
He shrugs, knowing exactly what I’m asking him. “I’ve had you wrapped around my finger from day one, Peyton.”
6
NOAH
This morning, of all mornings, I have a slight hangover. What’s going to exacerbate my shitty mood is the fact that Peyton starts her shots today. To add to my mea culpa stemming from last night's unplanned gathering, is the fact my sister-in-law, who I love dearly, isn’t starting her shots today because of some twin sisterly bond I will never understand. I get what Elle’s doing, but I’m not sure if I’m on the same page as her or not. Peyton wants to be pregnant at the same time as her sister. I get it. Under the circumstances, it’s highly unlikely. IVF isn’t a guarantee for anyone. Especially us. Regardless of the doctor being overly positive, both women might not be successful. Elle’s never tried to get pregnant, and Peyton’s never been able to get pregnant. I’ve read the pamphlets and done the research. I know how all of this could turn out.
I drag my sorry ass out of bed and hit the shower before facing my wife. Knowing her as well as I do, she’ll be downstairs in her yoga room, meditating. When we bought the house, the room was used for storage and didn’t have a purpose. In Portland, she started taking yoga classes, but here she has the space to have her own room. We hired a contractor to knock out the wall and replace it with glass doors which open to a recently renovated garden for her. I have my man cave and she has hers. I actually love going into her room. As soon as you walk in, it’s like nothing else matters in the world.
Her room is very calming. She followed the Feng Shui guide and created an area that was inviting. Where she’d feel content. She has a laughing Buddha in the corner to help her with fertility.
After my shower, I dress in gray joggers, a blue Portland Pioneers sweatshirt and slip my feet into a pair of runners I’m paid to wear. I’m not trying to hide who I am, at least not today. It’s already hit social media that Peyton and I were in the clinic, and I figure this is a good thing. People will see that we’re normal, just like them. We struggle too.
Indeed, I find my wife in her studio. The door to her studio is open and I stand there, resting against the door jamb. This morning, her long brunette hair is down, the length almost reaching her waist. She never talks about cutting it, even when it annoys her. Peyton keeps her eyes closed, but her lips form into a smile. She knows I’m watching.
In this instance, I’m glad she doesn’t open her eyes to look at me. It gives me a moment to stare at her, to take her all in. To remind myself how fucking lucky I am that she chose me to be her partner. Everyone’s a fool if they think I chose her. She was destined to be mine from the moment I met her. I was the idiot who waited too long to realize it.
While she sits there, crossed legs and absorbing the energy in the room, I picture her with a growing belly. With my child growing inside of her, knowing my wife is nurturing and caring for the little human that we so desperately want. I don’t even care how many children we have. Hell, if she wants a football team, I’ll happily do everything I can to give her one. If we’re graced with one, then that’ll be enough, too. I just want to see her blossom as a mother. To have the moments she sees in magazines and on TV or with our friends. The longing in her eyes when she sees an expectant mother rubbing her belly. Hell, I want that too. I want to feel my son or daughter kick. I want to read bedtime stories to her stomach and tell my little guy or gal how fucking awesome their mother is. Aside from this, I’m at a loss on how to get my wife pregnant. To give her the one thing she wants.
I inhale deeply to stop an impending wave of tears. Being strong for her is my job and one I take very seriously. The alarm on my phone chimes and I pull it out of my pocket to shut it off. “We gotta go,” I tell her.
Peyton finally opens her baby blues. They sparkle as she looks at me. Another smile, a wider one this time, spreads across her face. “You can’t wear those sweatpants to the clinic.”
I look down at them, looking for any stains or holes. “Why not?”
She laughs, stands, and stretches. Doing so highlights her figure. She used to be tiny, sometimes too thin, and she read that eating a balanced diet of whole grains, healthy fats, and proteins would help her body get ready for pregnancy. Honestly, I like not seeing her hip bones or her ribs showing.
Peyton turns, bends over, and looks at me through the space between her legs. The sight of her plump ass in those tight ass pants does something to me. I feel the stirring, the beginning throb of my growing erection. I clear my throat and change my stance.
She smirks and giggles. “That’s why,” she says. Peyton rights herself and comes toward me. “No one in the office needs to see what my husband’s packing.” To emphasize, she cups my dick and gives it a squeeze.
“Not fair.” I don’t bother to move. “You’re touching me and yet as of today I’ll be banished from being inside of you.”
Peyton shivers. “It’s for the greater good.”
