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Chapter Thirty-Six
By mid-February the snow was thick on the ground, Billie’s abdomen was as tight as a drum, and Colby had taken on his role as ‘big brother’ like a drill sergeant to a bunch of rookie soldiers fresh off the bus.
Valentine’s Day was also our birthdays, and as Billie had become a little anemic, she felt tired. My parents had wanted to do dinner, but it had been a weekday and due to the snow, my wife had politely declined on our behalf.
My suggestion of an intimate dinner at a local restaurant had also been rejected and a rain check issued for after the babies were born, which had left me no choice but to cook dinner for her at home. It was almost impossible to be romantic with a ten-year-old in constant daily negotiations for a later bedtime.
James surprised us by turning up at 6:00 p.m., looking for an excuse to see a Marvel movie and asking to take Colby. Not that he’d needed an excuse, but Colby had believed him and had been only too happy to skip out on going to bed at 9:00 p.m., as the showing let out at 10.30 p.m. After promising his mom not to be cranky when it was time to get up for school, he left with his uncle to head to the movies.
“Oh. My. Goodness, Sawyer!” she admonished after gushing her pleasure at the first two deliveries of flowers, her attitude growing less so with each one after until she made me promise not to send more than one bunch to her ever again.
Flowers arrived almost hourly from 11:00 a.m. until 7:00p.m. A large bunch for every month of our marriage, and our apartment looked like a rose bush had exploded by the time the last one finally came. I’ll admit it was overkill, but the bunches on display hadn’t looked that large at the florists when I’d ordered them.
Setting up the dining room table by the patio doors, we looked out on our loggia draped in a foot of virgin snow, strings of pretty pink fairy lights we’d hung up in the summer twinkled and looked even more perfect against the backdrop of the brilliant white snow and the black cover from the winter night’s sky.
We ate by candlelight, light food of salmon and salad, due to her ever-decreasing capacity for food due to the babies and drank bottled water. It was a simple meal made with love and it reminded us that the smallest things we did together always somehow felt the best.
Curling up on the couch we watched the movie ‘P.S. I Love You’, and I chuckled when she kept saying, “Oh I love this part,” which left me wondering how many times she’d seen it already.
After the movie, I filled the tub in one of the guest room bathrooms as she found the hot tub bath in our bedroom suite uncomfortable. Stepping into the bath, I helped her in and sat her down and settled myself behind her.
“Bliss,” she murmured, nuzzling her head against my shoulder.
“Right,” I agreed, taking the soft natural sponge and pouring some bath gel on to it. Tenderly I sponged her magnificent swollen breasts and her bump and watched our babies kicking excitedly. I had begun to look at every week they stayed in her womb as a bonus. My guts churned at the thought of leaving her, but I continually argued in my head it was fourteen gigs in twenty-one days. Three weeks would make her twenty-seven weeks and her doctors were confident she’d make those with the babies inside.
“Oh, Sawyer, this is bliss,” she moaned gently as I massaged shampoo into her wet hair, kneading her scalp slowly with my fingertips. “Oh, those magic fingers of yours, they’re amazing, don’t stop,” she moaned again.
“Mmm, gotta love those fingers, huh?” I teased remembering the pleasure they brought her every time I slid them inside of her. I allowed one hand to leave her head, rinsed off the soap and slid it between her legs. Billie’s back slid down my wet torso and her legs parted a little, which gave me better access. Soft and slow I circled her clit and she turned her face to look up at me.
“I can’t believe this is my life,” she said, and my hand froze for a second on her clit. My heart went out to her for the years where she never had the attention that had become part of her daily life.
“Darlin’ I can’t believe this is mine,” I responded in kind, sounding a little sappy, but it was true. She had brought so much light to my life. Being with her made everything we’d both faced in the past worth it.
“You’ve put up with so much, made me feel as if nothing was an effort for you,” she went on, and I sat up a little and took my hand away as this was yet another serious conversation she’d wanted to get off her chest.
“Baby, it wasn’t an effort. All of that is part of life, it’s messy and fucked up at times, but it’s times like these that make us understand why we go through the rest.”
“Sometimes my heart feels as if it’s going to burst out of my throat when I look at you, how amazing you are inside and out, and what we have.”
“Same,” I chuckled and kissed the top of her head.
“It’s going to be even tougher when these little ones come,” she warned in a serious tone, and I nodded.
“But we’re resilient, nothing we can’t handle,” I stated firmly.
“How come you’re so confident about everything?”
“Same reason you’re not. I was brought up with praise and encouragement, surrounded by many people who loved me, plus I inherited my dad’s ‘fuck everyone’ attitude.
Billie stiffened and turned her body a little for a better look at me. “You know, you’re right. All my life I was taught to worry about what other people thought, to accept how things were when my father left, to be submissive to other peoples’ needs. I’ve gone from a lifelong habit of being quietly strong and never dreamed of myself having a life with a wonderful, protective, funny, thoughtful man who believes we can do anything. Sawyer, that’s one hell of a shift in circumstance and a lot to get used to.”
“You’re getting there,” I told her honestly, because she stood up to me when she needed to and knowing I was there gave her confidence to speak her mind with others. I kissed her head then began cupping hot water from the bath into my hand and trailing it down her bump. “Did you ever think you could have dealt with what happened at Christmas?” I asked, knowing full well how worried she’d been about having Logan and I at the same table.
“No, but now that I have I know I could do it again. It wasn’t easy sitting at the table with one man’s children inside me and the other man’s child at the table. I know a lot of women would have felt smug about that, you know, to get back at their ex in that way. But that’s not who I am as a person.”
“I know, darlin’, and that’s part of your beauty. It doesn’t mean you’re a doormat, it means you’re compassionate.”
“Right,” she agreed. “But I did face that awkward situation for Colby’s sake, and it was all thanks to you for making it happen. James and Tricia were very supportive as well. Having people who had my back made a huge difference and it’s something I’ve never had before. I can’t explain how that feels.” My chest tightened again when I thought how her life must have been with no one to turn to.
