Hello again! It feels good to be back! It took me forever to finally get this the way I wanted it, but here I am with Chapter 1 of my sequel. It's just a little catch up chapter about what's happening in Spot and Marty's world and with everyone involved in it. Please review and tell me what you think! I miss you reviewers! Love, Meg.
BOYS
Michael Kenneth Conlon Jr. … Nothing else neither
I leaned back into the pillows with a frustrated sigh. "Nothin' else at all?" I asked him, raising my eyes to meet his. He shook his head as he tilted the chair he was sitting in on it's back legs and crossed his arms. I rolled up the list and used it to whack his bare feet that were perched on the foot of the bed.
"Youse is a stubborn one, Mr. Conlon."
He smirked. "Oh, and just what's wrong wid dat name, Mrs. Conlon?"
"Absolutely nothin, I just so happen tah be madly in love wid a man who bears it. A man so amazing and has such a reputation dat any son born tah him'll already have big enough shoes tah fill…"
"Alright, alright," he surrendered as he plopped his feet back on the ground and rested his elbows on his knees. "But why are we fightin' bout this already? He ain't due till April, Marty, and it's hardly March."
I smiled faintly and gently rubbed my belly, which now clearly announced my condition. "Ise is just excited Spot."
Spot placed his hand on top of mine and gave me a genuine smile. "Me too, I couldn't be happier."
I transferred my eyes to the rolled up list lying in my lap. "Will ya still be so happy if we get a daughter?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. He gave me a questioning look and I lightly smacked the top of his head with my make-shift club. "Ya didn't write down any goils names."
"That's cause da little guy ain't a goil," He informed me matter-of-factly.
"How do ya know that?"
"Cause I'm da father dat's why."
I opened my mouth for a comeback, but was interrupted by my stomach growling. I giggled and patted what I guessed was my hungry child's head. "Your baby is hungry again."
Spot smirked. "Dat's how I know he's a boy. No girl could eat dat much, not even Marty Conlon." Spot stood up and made his way over to the small corner kitchen. "What's your pleasure?"
"I wish ya'd let me get it myself. Youse had a long day and need your rest," I pointed out as I swung my legs over the side of the mattress, but Spot hustled over to me and gently grasped my shoulders.
"Oh no ya don't, don't cha remembah want the doc said? Stay off you're feet." He reminded me, guiding me back to my niche under the quilt. "'Sides, you need dat rest more den I do." I sighed dramatically and crossed my arms.
"I've been 'off my feet' forever." Spot smirked and pulled the blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed over the quilt.
"Stop your whinin' and let me take care of ya," he ordered playfully and leaned over to kiss my forehead. I smiled to myself as I watched my husband fuss around in the kitchen. Ise a lucky woman, I thought as I watched Spot pile deli meat on a slice of bread.
My stomach growled again and I suppressed a giggle.
"Tell da kid I am workin' as fast as I can," Spot said, putting the sandwich on the plate and turning to face me. I gave him the biggest grin I could muster.
"Your baby is most grateful."
He plopped down next to me and handed me the plate. "Well kid, when youse is outta dere it'll be me givin' da orders, ya hear?"
I rolled my eyes and set my snack on my rounded stomach just in time for the dish to vibrate with another low moan.
"Your wife is most grateful as well," I thanked him as I took a huge bite. Spot yawned and got up to unclasp his suspenders.
"Yeah, well dere ain't much I can do bout you givin' me orders," he yawned as he laid his pants on the back of the wooden chair. "So if I can't be of any more service…" He crawled under the covers and punched his pillow before lying down. I licked the crumbs off of my lips and leaned down to kiss his cheek, but my belly through my off balance and I ended up kissing the side of his nose and a little harder than I intended.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean…" I apologized as he winced. He snickered and brushed a stubborn lock of blonde hair out of my eyes. He leaned up and kissed me tenderly on the lips.
"G'night Marty," he said as he stretched out and slipped into slumber. I've noticed that Spot's sleeping habits were nearly the polar opposite of mine. He slept lightly, waking up at every little noise, and hardly ever moved. I giggled remembering the morning after our wedding and how he said that if I were a sleepwalker I could probably take any full sized man. He was, of course, exaggerating.
Spot snored loudly and I felt a pang of guilt. He had been working two jobs since we were married just to keep us afloat, and now he was forced to take on extra shifts so I wouldn't have to work during my pregnancy. I know how worried he is about supporting a baby, wanting to give his family everything but having to work so hard just to make ends meet. I hope, for his sake, that the baby is a boy. A son could take a share of the work when he is older, and he might be able to say no to a son. But I know, in my heart, a little girl could wrap Spot tight around her little finger the day she is born, and her daddy would go willingly too. It's always that way with fathers and daughters.
Spot will be a wonderful father. What he can't give our children in luxury he will make up for in character and guidance. Just like my father. John Campbell was truly a good father, leaving both his children with enough love and wisdom to make it through their lives without him. Although my brother, Arnie, made his mistakes, he is now back on his feet living the life Papa would have wanted for him. He is working hard trying to earn enough money so he can marry his sweetheart next summer. Arnie and I have only grown closer since our reunion, and I find my family values growing deeper each day. Not just with Arnie, but my whole family.
Jack and I are still best friends and I am even good friends with his wife Sarah, who I once held such a hatred for. My godson, Jacob Francis Kelly, is almost seven months old and is already reminding me so much of my Jack.
My other godson, Timmy, is a shy toddler. His parents, Drew and Mary, recently moved out of their snug little apartment to something a little bigger when Drew's law career began to really take off. Their home is not the only thing expanding in the Albright household; Mary is due to give birth to their second child in late October.
The rest of my family, the larger part, could not have been more supportive of my marriage and pregnancy. All of the newsies have been mother hens ever since we told them of my condition last October. At first I found it undyingly entertaining, watching them scurry about to satisfy any need I may have. However, it grew old way quicker than my stomach grew round. I had begun to hide from them at Drew and Mary's house, sending them into a fit of worry when I did not return home right away from work.
Now I struggled under the weight of my baby and their services and care became my lifeline when Spot was working late. I hate not being able to take care of myself, but, as much as I hate to admit it, this pregnancy was what the doctor described as "high risk." Because of my small frame and low body weight the doctor feared my body would not respond well to the sudden weight gain. Hence the reason I have hardly been able to get out of bed for nearly a month. My achy joints were just barely tolerable and I could see the concern etched on every face in my family. They saw how much pain I was already enduring and that it was only to get worse, but I was up to the challenge. Nothing in the world is more important to me than delivering my child into this world safely.
I yawned, suddenly aware of how tired I was. Get all the sleep you can while you are still pregnant, Sarah and Mary had both told me. You will be glad you did once you have to wake up every two hours to a hungry baby. I slid closer to my snoring husband. I suppose their advice was sound, I don't mind the extra sleep at all. I felt Spot's arms wrap around me protectively and I sighed. I felt my baby kick slightly; waking Spot up momentarily before he fell back into his light sleep. I kissed the palm of my hand and placed it right on top of the little kicking foot.
"G'night little Conlon," I whispered. "I can't wait to meet ya."
So there you go! I hope to write more soon, as this one is already long overdue!!! Thanks for reading!
