Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 22647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“Tell me,” he demanded.
The fridge was still standing open as he left it, and his eyes were on me, eager to hear the news.
“It’s positive.” I whispered.
His eyes closed, and when they opened again, I could see tension there. The panic. The hope. The love.
He walked towards me slowly, picking up my arm that held the stick, scanning it.
“Holy shit.” He breathed.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Blaine?” He rumbled, bring his hand up so he could tilt my head up.
My terrified ones met his loving ones. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. This baby is meant to be. How else would this baby have made it through all the precautions we used not to conceive?”
I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders, and with it my determination not to cry.
I broke down in Elliott’s arms, and like the man he was, he held me throughout.
Later that night, I stood next to the couch and watched my husband.
“You doing okay, sugar?” My mother asked, coming up behind me and hugging me to her front.
I nodded as I watched Elliott put together a train set that my mom had gotten him for Christmas.
“Yep. My husband’s like a small child at heart, you know,” I said laughingly.
She nodded. “Your father said he wouldn’t play with it, but I knew he’d like it.”
I nodded. Elliott was like that.
So easy going and fun.
He’d be a wonderful father.
“Oh, Christmas Tree…” the carol started on the new Bose sound system Elliott’s father had gotten for Christmas.
“Oh, dear,” my mother sighed as she let me go.
Elliott’s head snapped up, and he smiled at me warmly before abandoning the train and moving towards me purposefully.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips when he started ballroom dancing with an invisible partner, making his way towards me.
“Can I cut in?” I asked as he finally arrived in front of me.
He nodded sagely. “Yes, of course. My partner won’t mind.”
I shook my head as he took me into his arms, twirling me around like a young girl.
I went with the spin barely able to avoid his shoulder as I went.
Over time, I’d learned to adapt to his less than stellar dance moves, compensating to where there was only minimal damage to my feet or extremities.
“You know,” he started, swaying his hips in an exaggerated fashion.
At my raised brow, he said, “I’m not that good at dancing.”
I laughed quietly, leaning my head against his chest.
“You don’t say.” I said sarcastically.
“I sense some sarcastic undertones,” he teased.
“No, not from me, Elliott Dear,” I sniffed, barely containing my emotions.
I don’t know how he did it, but the man had a way about him. A certain something that made everything okay, even if it wasn’t. Even if I was scared shitless.
“I love you, E.” I said, interrupting his next comment.
He looked down at me, his pretty eyes looking into my own for long moments before he replied. “I know. It’ll all be all right. You’ll see.”
Somehow, I knew it would.
Chapter 9
I love that when I’m with you, I don’t have to pretend I’m nice.
-E-card
Elliott
Christmas Number 6
“This Christmas is bittersweet, little man,” I said softly to my son, Justin Douglas.
Justin smiled a gummy smile at me, making me realize all that I had in my life. How lucky I was to be here.
I could be six feet under like Dougie is. Like my first son was. I thought morosely.
I can’t believe it’s been nearly two years since we lost our child.
It seemed like just yesterday I came home to a massive amount of blood coating the bed and the bathroom, as well as a note from Blaine explaining what had happened.
That’d been gut wrenching.
Then my son cooed, and all thoughts of my dead friend and lost child were pushed back. Not gone. Not forgotten. But in a place that they should be. A place that Dougie and our son would always live. My heart.
In the last year, things had changed quickly. So quickly that I hadn’t even had time to catch a breath.
But Blaine had been there with me every step of the way.
She’d nearly died in the process, too.
My eyes squeezed tight as I thought about that day, less than three months ago, when my sweet Blaine had nearly been taken from me.
***
“What do you mean, she’s in labor?” I bellowed loudly.
I’d just dropped my mother off at her new house that her and my father had bought. They’d wanted to move closer so they could be in their first grandchild’s life. Which suited me. I wanted them to be there.
Although, I’d thought that they had nearly a month to go before we got to see the baby. Not less than an hour.
“She’s in labor. And she’s in the elevator stuck between floors,” Sam said calmly.
In an elevator; at a baby store.
Too calmly.
“Is she okay?” I asked worriedly, my foot pressing down further on the accelerator without conscious thought.
My question was answered, not by Sam, but by my wife.
Her scream tore through me, ripping straight through my flesh and settling deep into my heart where it sat heavily, weighing me down with its intensity.
“Ahh, she’s not liking anyone much right now. She’s pretty adamant about pain meds, but since no one can get in there, they won’t give her any. Gabe’s in there with her though, so she’s not alone,” Sam answered quickly, sensing the unease in my voice.
My heart didn’t settle, and my foot didn’t lift from the gas.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I managed to grit out, weaving in and out of traffic like I was a madman.
I called Gabe once I hung up with Sam, listening to the yelling coming from Blaine the entire way there.
Why they had to go out of town to a fuckin’ Babies R’ Fuckin’ Us, I didn’t know. Although I was fairly confident that that wasn’t the name she’d used, but right now that’s all my mind kept repeating back to me.
The one goddamn time she goes out of the city, I’m half an hour away from her.