But I’d wasted enough time worry about what would or wouldn’t happen. I was being a beautiful gift in the now, and I needed to take advantage of it. Stress wasn’t good for the baby and if I wanted to be the best mommy I could be, I needed to wind down and appreciate the leg up I had been given.
Well, since he was doing so much for me, the least I could do was make him breakfast. I went to the kitchenette that was honestly bigger than some of the whole kitchens I had had when we lived in trailers and rooted around the fridge. It wasn’t quite as well stocked as the fridge in Vegas had been, but there was bagels, condiments and cereal bars, fresh fruit and a couple juices. I could make due with that. Sure, it wasn’t going to be some grand banquet, but it would still be something nice to wake up to.
I busied myself with getting stuff ready. I started up the fancy coffee machine and put one of those little cups into it, then cut the bagels. It took me a little longer to find the toaster, which was tucked away in one of the cabinets, but in about ten minutes or so I had a couple of plates made up.
I didn’t know if it was the coffee or the bagels, but James because to stir just about before I was done. I watched him from the corner of my eye until he sat up, looking adorably groggy. “I don’t remember ordering room service this morning,” he said, voice raspy in that just-woke-up sort of way.
“Consider this complimentary,” I answered. “Do you prefer coffee, water, or juice in the morning.”
“Coffee,” he said quickly. “And water.”
“Coming right up.”
I filled up two glasses and a mug, stacked the plates on my arm and headed over to him on the couch. He took them from me as I sat, and soon we were both digging into our carbo-loaded meal.
We didn’t say much, but mostly because our mouths were full. After my morning sickness I was feeling a lot better, but also extremely hungry. It was good to get something solid in me that I hopefully wouldn’t toss into the toilet in an hour or so.
“Thanks.” James said when we were done, setting our plates to the side. “You ready for more shopping?”
I laughed, nervously of course. It was like each morning I woke up at square one and had to work myself all the way back to a new level of trust by the end of the day.
“You’re certainly eager for being a man’s man.”
“That’s sexist,” he retorted, picking up the plates and heading for the kitchen, where he dumped them in the sink.
“You got me there.” I stood as well and headed for the bedroom. “After today, you’re going back to your company, right?”
“Yup. It’s a quick four-hour fight so we’ll have to organize our schedules for certain events.”
“Events?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah. Like our meeting with the divorce attorney, signing papers. Things like that.”
Oh. Right. That was his ultimate goal in coming down here. I guess that I had gotten so swept up in the niceties and the chemistry between us that I had forgotten for a moment. Maybe I could blame it on pregnancy brain, because I certainly wasn’t acting like myself.
“Sounds like a plan. I’m going to go get dressed.”
“Great, bet you I’m still done before you are.”
“Probably,” I answered, closing the door.
But my heart wasn’t in it. I was in a sour mood and I couldn’t quite say why. Looking at my clothes, I decided to worry about what I was going to put on rather than what was going on with the painful squeezing in my heart.
*
I let out a long sigh, resting my body against the passenger’s seat like it was a life line.
“Do you need a break?” James asked from beside me, chuckling slightly.
I looked at him and blew a hard bit of air from between my lips, making them sputter like an engine. “A little,” I said once I finished the exhausted gesture.
“We’re only halfway through the day, you know. There’s still a whole lot more to come.”
“I know,” I groaned, closing my eyes. “And I’m grateful, I really am, but my shoes are killing me and so is my back. My heart is excited, but my body is less than willing.”
“No wonder with those shoes you’re wearing.”
“Huh?” I looked down at my feet to see I had definitely put on the comfy flats that I remembered. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“No arch support, no heel padding, and I’m sure that pregnant women need even more feet care. You really should be wearing something that takes better care of your feet.”
“Wait, really?”
He nodded. “I spotted a nice maternity section in one of the stores we went shopping in during our baby registering stint. We’ll swing by there to see if they have anything.”