Blue Moon #3 (Story of Us Series - Into the Blue) - Sydney Jamesson Page 0,82
when I reach over and take hold of his left hand. “There’s nothing more you can do. Just leave Lester to do what he does best. One way or another, the truth will reveal itself.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re right, but I hate the idea of there being any loose ends.”
“I know, but there are other things we could be thinking about.” We move together out of his office. “We haven’t even thought about baby names, and how do you feel about matching clothes?”
“Matching clothes to what?” he asks, his face folding into a frown.
Adding a little theatricality to my performance, my thumbnail finds its way into my mouth. “The twins! Should we dress them the same?” I throw my hands in the air. “It’s an impossible task. We don’t know what sex they are: two boys, two girls, one of each…”
I’m quickly pulled into a tight embrace. “I don’t think we should be dressing them up like a pair of bookends, Beth. They’re individuals in their own right.”
Imagining our children as bookends makes me smile. I lean into him to caress his stubble with my fingers. “I agree, and you haven’t shaved?”
“No. Won’t be wearing a suit either.” There’s that devil-may-care smile I love so much.
“Look at you, so relaxed in your weekend clothes.” I feel the outline of his pectoral muscles beneath his grey T-shirt and powerful thighs pressed up against mine through denim material. “You’ve been working out?”
“A bit. It gave me something to do. I had Jamie round and we went a few rounds.”
That does take me by surprise. “Really? Let’s go get some breakfast and you can tell me all about it.”
Our no-frills breakfast consisting of cereal and toast took us longer than anticipated to get through; we kept stopping to spoon in food, spread marmalade or to share anecdotes. He talked, I listened, nodded and laughed; I watched him reanimate and become the husband I left behind three weeks ago.
It was a revelation.
Learning about his blossoming relationship with Jamie, and observing how protective he has become of him was a joy to behold—every sentence serving as proof, if any were needed, that he has all the qualities of a loving father, even though he spent most of his life without one.
With the crockery loaded into the dishwasher, I set about planning dinner, checking what we have that can be thrown together into some kind of half decent, nutritious meal. The radio is on. I’m singing along, moving my hips left and right knowing I’m being watched and enjoying the sensation.
The song ends and I glance over to Ayden sitting on the sofa. “Can we order some flowers?” I call out. “This place needs some sprucing up.”
Still keeping his eyes on me, he nods. “Sure.”
“Are you still going over things?” I stretch to a high shelf, reaching for pasta, feeling my stomach pressing against the counter top. Never before have I been so aware of my increasing size or my limitations. I have to accept that as the babies grow I’ll become less mobile, less able to do my usual things without thinking them through.
As if the twins are reading my thoughts, I feel a twinge of something unfamiliar—not a pain or an ache, more of a flutter or movement that leaves me a little nauseous. I begin to sway and grab hold of the counter to stop myself from falling backward.
In a spilt second, Ayden is there behind me. “You’re doing too much. Come and sit down.”
“No, I’m not.” I push away his hands from my waist and sit down on the sofa. “I felt something…”
“Something?” Now he looks concerned.
“Yes. Nothing bad. Like they were moving. Feel.” I take his right hand and place it on my stomach. As if responding to his touch, there’s movement. “See?”
Alerted to it, our heads jolt upwards at the same time.
“What the hell! I can feel them.” Ayden starts to roar with laughter. “I can actually feel them moving.”
I wipe away happy tears from the corners of eyes. “I know. Isn’t it amazing?”
“It’s a fucking miracle!”
I brush my hand across his hair. “Yes it is.”
He leans in to kiss me. “You have to take care of yourself, Beth.”
“I know. I will. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be just fine.” I glance around our home; the kitchen counter top is covered in food yet to be prepared, there are coffee cups on the table, shoes on the floor and … a file tucked away by the side