Her hair is piled on top of her head haphazardly, she’s got on my discarded shirt from last night, and I can see she went rifling through my drawers to find a pair of socks to put on before coming out.
“Morning, Baby,” I tell her as she comes closer. She bends down to kiss me, and I bring her to sit on my lap.
“Morning, Jake. You know, I’m too big to be sitting on your lap now,” I can hear the raspiness in her voice from sleep.
“Bullshit, you’re right where you belong,” I tell her. She takes my mug, and before I can tell her she’s not allowed to have caffeine, she brings the cup up to her nose and inhales the scent.
I chuckle, knowing how much Larissa loves coffee. Even though I was about to open my mouth and make an ass out of myself, I know she’d never put our child in any kind of unwarranted danger.
We talked for hours on ends as the best friends we’ve always been. She knew she wanted to be a better mom than the one she had growing up. Her mom was more interested in herself than she was in taking care of Larissa. Her father wasn’t much better. He barely held down a job to keep a roof over their head. I couldn’t imagine the way Larissa grew up. My parents have always been my biggest fans.
“God, I miss coffee. Decaf isn’t the same. Not that I drink that either. I’m too scared of what would happen if I did,” she grumbles.
“Not much longer now, though,” I reply.
“I don’t see caffeine at all in my future, especially if I plan on nursing.” She looks back at my coffee wistfully. I can envision it now, her nursing our son or daughter. Her body nourishing our child with her own milk. Fuck, what it does to me.
“That’s something you’re planning on doing?” I ask.
“If my body will allow it, I’ll nurse our child as long as I can,” she says.
I’m dying to tell her my feelings, but I don’t want to spook her and make her leave again. Damn, do I love this woman.
“I’m so thankful to have you as the mother of our child, Rissa,” I use the name that’s reserved only for me. She once told me how she hated the nickname “Rissy”. To tease her, I started calling her Rissa. She never once told me not to, so I ran with it.
“You’re going to make me cry, Jake,” she says as she faceplants into my neck. I hold her until she settles down and the sun is high in the sky.
Larissa
My emotions have been a roller coaster the past couple of days. When I told Jake I was going to look for an apartment, he was adamant that I stay with him. He didn’t give me the chance to hedge. Jake simply took my keys and unloaded my car with all of my belongings and dumped them in the master bedroom closet.
I’m officially all moved in. The next thing I need to do is start looking for a job. Obviously, not until after the baby is born. I’m really glad I have money saved up. Babies are not cheap, and I don’t want Jake to feel like he has to pay for everything.
With that thought in mind, I push the laptop lid closed, head into the bedroom and get dressed for the day. I have some baby shopping to do before my doctor’s appointment this afternoon. One that Jake will be meeting me at. He tried to get out of the meetings he had lined up for this week but couldn’t. I wasn’t upset with that, although Jake was. He was cussing up a storm and yelling at his assistant, as if it were Tina’s fault. I rolled my eyes and walked away while he was on the phone.
I grab a pair of leggings, oversized tee shirt, a bra and panties and change quickly, throwing my hair up in a messy bun. When you’re in a small town in Wyoming, finding maternity clothes was hard. Add in my size twelve curves with a growing stomach, it was harder. I learned to stick with extra stretchy clothes and sized up. Plus, now that I’m at the end of my pregnancy, I don’t see the sense in buying maternity clothes.
I grab my keys, cell phone, purse, and head for the nearest Target. I have supplies to get for our bundle of joy.
It doesn’t take me long to get to where I’m going. I aisle shop and seeing how I have a few hours to kill, I slowly meander up and down the baby section. I take a notepad and pen out of my purse and start writing down what we’ll need immediately and what we can wait on.