Page 110 of Songs for Libby

Even though he’d paid for the house, Sean still insisted on knocking on the back door before coming in. I just grinned and shook my head. “Come in!” I hollered as I pulled more plates out of the box.

Sean walked in and then rushed over. “No, no, no,” he said, removing the plates from my hand. “What’s the use of all this money if I can’t pay people to unpack for us?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t throw your money in my face.”

“You’re not supposed to be lifting heavy stuff.”

“It’s a plate, Sean.”

“I mean the boxes.”

“I didn’t lift the box, and even if I had, I am fully capable of knowing my own limits.”

“Are you though?” he questioned quietly.

“I’m nesting, Sean!” I brandished another plate at him. “My brain thinks it is imperative that everything be put away and in its place as soon as possible, and it doesn’t want me to wait for someone else to do it. So deal with it!”

Instead of getting defensive or sulky, he calmly wrapped me in his arms and I reluctantly burrowed my head into his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to move out of your already prepared and organized house,” he said quietly.

“If you weren’t so garishly successful, this wouldn’t have been necessary.”

He chuckled. “I’m the worst.”

“You really are. Don’t you know it’s selfish of you to hoard all that talent?”

“I’ll work on that.”

I smiled and we lapsed into silence.

“Has it at least been nice not having to worry about people waiting out on the street for us?” he asked.

I lifted my face so I could look him in the eye. “Yes. It’s been really wonderful, actually. I do love this house,” I assured him. “And I am very happy to be somewhere safer. I’m just pregnant and that means I have to fill a daily quota for complaints.”

He laughed. “Could have fooled me. You hardly ever complain.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to work on that.”

“You do that,” he said. “Now, is there any chance you would sit on a stool and pretend to be a queen directing her servants?”

“Are you the servant?”

“Yeeees,” he said with a lazy smile.

“I suppose I could get on board with that.”

Three days later, Sean had brought in enough help and I’d done enough bossing around to feel like I had my house put together. I had expected most of it to remain empty for quite some time since it was at least four times the size of my old house, but Sean had even hired a decorator to come in and fill the empty rooms, using my things as a style guide. I didn’t even know that was a thing you could do, but apparently it was. Half of me wanted to complain about it and insist that I could decorate myself and buy my own stuff since I was an independent woman, but I decided to just let it be okay, because there was a piece of me that was getting bigger and bigger by the day, and that piece of me was planning to marry my best friend. Not anytime soon. Our relationship, or at least our romance, was very new and I didn’t want to make snap decisions out of desperation or loneliness. Still, I couldn’t deny that looking ahead, I wanted Sean in my life for good. Friend, husband, lover, partner. All of it.