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“I might be.”
“Well, in that case—” He tugs me closer to him. “I better scoop up my victory hoe.”
He kisses me softly and my chest flutters the same way it always does.
“Is that what you call the mother of your children?” I ask.
“If the booties fit,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss me again.
I glance down the hallway towards Courtney’s room. “She was perfect while you were gone.”
“Good,” he says. “You had enough to worry about. Threats of bed rest, Thanksgiving dinners…” A serious expression crosses his eyes. “I wanted to be here.”
“You’re here now.”
“And here I will stay until he’s born.”
“Junior, you have a game next week.”
He grabs my hand. “They will play without me.”
I inhale to argue. “Junior—”
“I will not miss the birth of my son because of a football game,” he says, his voice hard and defiant. “His due date is in two weeks. I’ve already cleared it with the coach. I’m staying.”
I press my lips together, thankful and proud. “Okay.”
Junior kisses my cheek and stands up. “I’m going to get her to sleep and then I will meet you in the bedroom.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “What’s gonna happen in there?”
“First…” he bends over me, “you’re going to lie down on the bed and then…” His lips graze mine. “I’m going to rub your enormous feet.”
I burst out laughing. “Sounds orgasmic.”
“Need help standing up?”
“I think I can manage it.”
He turns away, leaving me to sink into the couch cushions a little more.
Yet another muscle twitches in my back and I shift to a slightly different position to kill the spasm before it begins.
“Okay, buddy,” I say to my stomach. “Any day now…”
I hope for a pain; one quick pulse of contraction that will tell me it’s time but all I get is bubbles.
“Damn.” I heave a sigh and rock myself up.
Junior’s voice drifts down the hall at me, carrying softly with rhythmic, punchy words of childish prose. Courtney giggles with him, her tired voice dimming more and more with each turned page.
I lean against the wall just outside the doorway, listening and smiling as I try to imagine what our son will look like. If he grows into anything resembling his father, it’s safe to assume he’ll be quite the handful…
And then there are the eyes. Courtney is the spitting image of me with the exception of the eyes. They’re all Junior’s, right down to the light specks of gray around the brown edges. Being away from him the last two weeks has been a serious challenge for me but sometimes, at just the right moment, I’d look at my daughter and I’d see Junior looking back at me. I’d fall in love with him all over again.
Junior enters the hall, moving as silent as possible, and closes her door behind him. He looks up at me and smiles, but quickly shifts to concerned eyes.
“You okay?” he whispers.
