When Arthur next slept, his dreams took him into Addie's bedroom again one morning. His younger self was lying on his back in his long johns with Eliza asleep in her nightgown and Isaac asleep in the bassinet near the bed. Eliza's cheek was resting peacefully on his shoulder, her right arm draped across his chest, her hand up near his other shoulder.
When he heard a little knock on the door, he said quietly, "Come in." It was her room and her house, after all.
Addie opened it and glanced at him.
"They're both fast asleep," he whispered with a small grin in greeting as he brought his hand to Eliza's forearm and gently stroked up and down.
Addie silently went to the far end of the room and crouched near the foot of the bed to get something from her trunk, when Eliza began to rustle and wake.
"Oh—spoke too soon," Arthur said with a smile.
"Good morning," Eliza mumbled to him with a smile when she blinked open her eyes. "My week-long married man." She immediately began to press soft kisses to his neck and started to slide her hand down his abdomen. "I know we can't do much, but…I could give you a kiss in a certain special place, if you know what I—"
He caught her wrist before it reached his groin. "Addie's in the room, darlin'."
She froze, her mouth in a large, stiff 'O' as the sounds of Addie's quick, staccato boot steps out of the room filled her ears.
As she hurriedly closed the door behind her, Eliza stuffed her face into her pillow and groaned. "Arthur!"
He wheezed. "What'd you want me to do? You went all 'married life' on me before I could ever even say anything!"
She turned toward him just enough so half of her face was showing and glared at him with one eye.
He wheezed again. "You're red as a tomato."
She shut her eyes tight and brought her hand up over her face with another growl.
"Yeah, I know…" he mumbled. "It's high time I got us our own place." He sighed. "Got my sights on a real nice one."
"Anything. I can hardly take much more a' this."
"Well…you ain't much gonna like how I get it."
She looked at him. "What do you mean? You put robbin' behind you."
"No, I know…" he nodded. "I meant, pay 'em loads outright."
She shifted onto her side. "W…what's so wrong with that?"
"Well…" he sighed, letting his eyes slowly float up to hers. "It's still stolen money."
"Oh," she said quietly.
"Guess I was right… Thought you might have apprehensions about…startin' an' buildin' our family on secrets an' lies."
She looked down and spoke slowly, "I guess it would be for the best if we…gave it away. Like Zacchaeus."
"Who?" he squinted.
"A tax collector in the Bible. He stole. But when he was met with mercy and grace, he was so overjoyed that he gave away many times what he stole."
Looking up at the ceiling, he sighed with his mouth mostly closed, which caused his cheeks to puff up with air, and ran a hand over his face. "I don't even have that kinda money." He looked at her again. "And what I got, I intend to use to take care a' my family."
She rested a hand on his chest. "Surely…surely God wouldn't begrudge us a new start," she said hastily. "We're makin' things right, both of us. And Isaac's gonna need a place, room to grow." She looked down and absentmindedly picked at one of the buttons of his long johns. "He can't be cooped up here. And we can't prey on Addie's hospitality any longer. That ain't right either."
He nodded. "I'll go by and make my offer today. It's enough that I don't see 'em turnin' it down."
She cuddled up close and rested her cheek on his chest. "Oof…" she moaned with a roll of her eyes, "they never tell you what horrible, hard decisions you get to face in adulthood." She was glad when his chest rattled with a sardonic chuckle. She smiled and brought her hand to rest on the other side of his chest near her face. "I'm sure whatever place you've picked is beautiful."
He rested his hand atop hers. "And in about a couple months, we'll be honeymoonin'."
She grinned brightly.
From where he stood watching, Arthur blinked and was suddenly standing outside with the three of them—himself and Eliza holding Isaac. They were looking at a homestead, and his own eyes widened when he realized it was the same one they'd lived in, in reality.
"Deer Head Ranch," he breathed. "No, you've gotta be kiddin' me, no. Not here."
"A tradition's a tradition," his younger self said with a grin as he scooped her up into his arms while she held Isaac in hers, and they made a sort of Russian doll for a few moments. She squealed a bit, and he carried them over the threshold.
When he set her down on her feet inside, she looked around. "It's still got all the furnishings."
"Paid 'em extra. Figured we could use the head start. It's good and livin' ready." He watched her slowly walk around and pop her head into each room. "Plenty a' room outside, too, for Isaac to run around as he grows. Lots of trees for him to climb into, scrape up his knees," he chuckled. "A smokehouse, for when I catch us game. A corral, a barn, places for a garden and a chicken coop. We'll get all set up."
"No, no…" Arthur moaned and clapped a hand onto each side of his head. It was all too close to reality. And he knew how that had ended. All too well.
She looked back at him with a soft smile. "It's wonderful. I can see us here for years to come."
"Yeah? Really?" his smile widened.
"Really."
"You like it?"
"I love it," she chuckled.
"This is all wrong! Eliza, tell him! You can't live here! Get yourselves up outta here!"
But she wrapped her free arm around her husband and kissed him when he rushed to her with a bright smile on his face.
And in the matter of a moment, the scene changed. They were all in black, walking through a little graveyard behind the town church.
With Isaac in her arms, Eliza stopped at a pair of headstones. And he came and stood beside her, holding his hat in his hands in front of him, in his demure and respectful way. He wore black dress pants, a black vest, and his only white dress shirt. And his hair was pomaded back.
"Mama, Papa," she said quietly. "This is Arthur. My husband." Keeping one arm carefully around their baby, she reached for Arthur's hand. "And this," she looked down, "is Isaac, your grandbaby. We named him after you, Papa." Her eyes were watering as she looked at the headstones. "They're both the loves of my life."
He noticed a vein starting to show in her forehead as the breeze came and picked up her wisps of hair. And he rubbed his thumb gently along the back of her hand.
She sniffed. "How I miss you both. And I wish you were still here. You'd love 'em so, like I do. I know it." She glanced at him as she wiped her cheek. "It's the memories of them livin'. They were so wise and caring. Even funny as hell," she chuckled through her tears. "Well, I…" she nodded as she looked back at the headstones, "I know you're in a better place. Where there's no illness, pain, or heartbreak."
He hung his head and watched her from the corner of his eyes. He knew from the way she could barely get the words out that she was a little overwhelmed with emotion.
Swallowing, she finally turned to walk off back towards the wagon, leaving him standing before the two graves alone.
He slowly looked up at them, fiddling with his wedding ring, and watching the long heather that sprang up nearby sway in the silent breeze.
"Many thanks for the ring," he gestured to her father's grave. "Fits perfect. In more ways than one," he smiled. As he looked at the headstones, stark and stiff as teeth where they jutted from the earth, he took a breath. "If she loved you, you musta been real fine," he said. "And she thinks you'd like me…" he chuckled and shook his head a bit. "In reality, I'm probably lucky you ain't around to keep her from me."
His expression slowly grew solemn. "I know you probably know…things I done. In the past. But… Well, I…" he shifted his weight in the dirt a bit, "even though I know I ain't much more 'an scum, I'm tryin'a be different for her. For them." A bright smile overtook his face for a moment. "Somethin' about 'em…makes me wanna be better. That baby, he's…" he shook his head and looked up. "God, he's heaven on earth. And she's…well, she is too, but you know that," he smirked.
He looked down and fiddled with the edge of his hat. "She does somethin' inside a' me. The way she's somehow both…dainty and…the farthest thing from it. Real strong, in every way. A real go-getter," he smiled. "I'm sure you knew that when you saw her run with the fastest of the boys, and climb up trees," he chuckled, glancing at her mother's headstone. "The way she finds reasons to smile and laugh, even when things are hard. She gives of herself, even when she's tired. And she cares about things…little things. Like comin' to see you two, when you ain't even here. Most folk wouldn't."
He looked down again. "Well, she finds hope and compassion in her heart," he nodded. "She never gives up on me. And somehow, she's wise beyond her years. I'm sure you both had a lot to do with that." He swallowed and nodded. "You'd be so proud of her."
"And Isaac deserves a good pa. Well, he's got me," he rubbed his neck and chuckled nervously. "I can't claim to've had a good example… Mine was worse 'an piss-poor. Much worse. But I aim to do my very best, learn as I go. She'll help me. And I know you probably think that…our lives'll be on the run. But it won't. I swear to you. I've got us a nice place. And with everything I got in me, I wanna take care of 'em. And I will. I promise."
He finally replaced his black hat atop his head and took the brim between his thumb and finger to tip it to them before walking back to rejoin her and Isaac in the wagon seat.
And as Arthur watched, the scene blended into something else. It seemed to be about a couple months later—they'd already packed a bag and placed it in the back of the wagon. They'd lain Isaac in his bassinet, and they were off for their honeymoon trip. And his younger self took them up a nearby mountain, all in a matter of moments for Arthur himself.
When they arrived at the little cabin, Eliza stepped off the wagon and took in the scenery from their high perch—the landscape of jagged mountain ranges, lush evergreen and oak forests, rivers and fields of wildflowers, stretching as far as she could see.
"Makes me think a' you," his younger self said as he stood beside her with Isaac in his arms. "You two. Whenever I see such wonderful wilderness as this."
"It still does," Arthur whispered, as he watched them from under his forlorn brows.
She smiled up at him and reached out to take his hand in hers.
That afternoon, after they'd settled into the cabin and after Eliza had let her yellow waves of hair down from their pins, he took her and the babe for a little walk. When they stopped at the edge of a little pond, he began to unbutton his coat and shirt and remove his clothes.
"Arthur," she chuckled with Isaac in his little thatched bassinet still in her arms. Her brows came together as she watched him. "What're you doin'?"
"What's it look like?" He continued to strip down completely and waded into the steaming water, turning and looking at her when he was waist deep. He held his arms out. "It's a hot spring. Come on. In you go," he smiled.
"W…what about Isaac?"
"Why you think I had you bring him in the bassinet?" he laughed.
Still uncertain, she placed him in his bassinet down on the ground, making sure he was tucked cozily in his thick blankets before straightening to look at Arthur again.
"Well come on," he gestured with a smile. "I noticed your cheeks been so flush in this little chilly spell we been havin' the past couple days. Thought you'd like a nice swim, warm up."
"Arthur, I…I'm not sure."
"What you mean?"
"Well, I…I just…" she began to fidget. "I'm a lot different, since I got so big and…had Isaac."
He nodded with a chuckle. "I was there."
"I know." She swallowed and looked down. "It's just that…you haven't really seen me, except for parts a' me, like my shoulders while bathin'…for, what's it been, ten months? The better part of a year, Arthur!"
"You don't have to remind me."
"Like I said, things on me are…a bit different. I've got these squiggly, silvery scars in places here," she brought a palm to her midsection, "and my skin…" she swiped her hair away from her eyes nervously, "it's… I ain't certain it's set back quite the same."
From where he stood a couple steps away, Arthur nodded with realization. "'Skittish…'"
"What, you think you're some horrifyin' monster?" he chuckled again.
"No, I just…"
"Did you think I'd never see you naked again?"
"No."
"D'you think we'd be married and just never…make love?"
"No." She shook her head, bringing her arms around herself and looking down.
"I…" his voice caught in his throat, and he could only whisper the rest. "I thought you'd like this," he said as he moved tentatively towards her, the water now hitting his lower waist.
"Arthur…" she closed her eyes for a few moments before opening them to look at him. "I'd hate it if you were to be… It would just crush me if I were to…"
And he saw it in her eyes. Disappoint you.
"Aw, sweetheart." His head sagged, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Ain't nothin' I can say to make you sure of it, but that could never happen. I will never be disappointed with you," he shook his head. "And I want you to know, you don't have to. I ain't goin' anywhere, all right? No matter what." He swallowed. "But—well…" he took a breath, feeling his chest tug towards her, and his brows drew up tight, "don't you wanna feel my arms around you?"
Her face crumpled, and she let her arms down at her sides. "More than anything."
"Honey…" he shook his head and briefly brought his hands out and let them drop. "I'm achin' for you here."
She bit her lip and finally began to unbutton her frock, letting it slip to the ground around her feet.
"She always was a vision," Arthur said low as he watched her step out of the gown and into the water.
She slowly waded towards his younger self where he stood waiting with a smile. And when she got to him, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her cheek.
"You're a vision, you know that?" he whispered. "Had to practically pick myself up off the floor when I saw you walkin' towards me that day in the church. And you still are. I ain't seen nothin' like you in all my livin' life."
She pulled away and smiled up at him, her deep green eyes gleaming. And she brought her hand to his cheek as he leaned down and kissed her.
"It's so warm," she said, sinking deep into the water.
"Mm, I knew you'd like it. Come here," he said with a smile when they drew apart. "Wanna show you somethin'. What it's like to float. Ever done it?"
"Ah…just like this," she gestured to her treading legs with a laugh. "Is there another way?"
"Nah, nah, I mean… Well, I guess it's closer to flyin'. If humans could."
She cocked her head with crimped brows, causing him to chuckle.
"Just come here." He gently took her by the wrist and positioned her to tread water in front of him with her back to him. "Now take a big breath and hold it for a few moments."
As she did, her lower half began to rise closer to the top of the water.
"Good, there you go. Now just let it out slowly, and relax."
As her body flattened out across the water's surface, her vantage point shifted to the blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, and she gasped. "Arthur. It's like I'm way up high."
"Mm-hm," he grinned, bringing his left shoulder under her neck so her head could rest there. And with them hooked together like that, he could pull her slowly back through the water. As he did, he brought his hand up and threaded his fingers through hers, lowering his mouth down to her hear.
"I'm dreamin' now of Hallie, sweet Hallie…for the thought of her is one that never dies," he sang in a low whisper, grinning bright when he saw her smile.
It was an up-tempo number from decades past, one that must've made it around every campfire in the American countryside since.
"She's sleepin' in the valley…and the mockin'bird is singin' where she lies," he continued to whisper as they drifted together, her watching the sky, and him watching her. "Listen to the mockin'bird… The mockin'bird is singin' o'er her grave. Listen to the mockin'bird… Still singin' where the weepin' willows wave…"
And that evening, the three of them were reclined in the bed of the little cabin's one bedroom together, Isaac lying between them.
"Isaac…mama loves you. Yes," she whispered warmly with a grin.
When Isaac looked at her to his left, his face relaxed into a big smile.
"Ugh," she clucked her tongue and whispered, "I love it when he smiles. Just fills your heart full."
"He's doin' it a lot these days. I love his little rolls of fat," Arthur chuckled, tucking the tip of his finger into the crease of one on his thigh and gently pinching.
"Who wouldn't?" Eliza laughed. "They're like dinner rolls! He's good enough to take a bite right out of him."
"Can't believe he's two months already." Lying on his side propped up on his elbow, Arthur took Isaac's little foot and nibbled it gently between his lips, causing him to smile brightly, scrunch up his nose, and wave his little arm haphazardly, reeling from the tickle.
And after nursing and being burped, he quickly began to drift off.
Eliza stood and took him to the bassinet, tucking him snugly into the little wolf-skin blanket his father had fashioned for him. As his eyes blinked closed, she bent and kissed him. "Baby…" she whispered, as if the very word were precious as gold, the 'ba' at the beginning its own shiny nugget.
As she straightened, she stroked his cheek gently, wishing him the sweetest of dreams. And when she turned Arthur's way, he was already unbuttoning his long johns. His expression was soft, but there was a heavy longing in his eyes. She started to slip off her own nightgown, but she paused and looked up at him again.
"Arthur?"
"Hm."
"I know it's probably silly," she whispered, "but...for our first time, as husband and wife, could we…could it be just us in the room? Just you and me?"
He grinned softly and carried Isaac in his bassinet out of the room, laying it gently just outside the bedroom door.
When he came back, she was already out of her nightgown, completely bare where she sat on the left edge of the bed, waiting for him in the moonlight.
He removed his long johns the rest of the way and came to her. And she looked up at him with those deep eyes that always undid him from the inside out, eyes that quietly matched and reflected his own hunger and yearning.
Glancing down and back up at him, she reached out and brought her hand around the side of his hip bone.
As she did, he brought his left hand up to the side of her face, sinking his fingers back into her glossy golden hair. He brought his other hand up to rest on her jaw beneath her ear, gently shifting her face up to him and watching her eyes close for just a moment.
When she opened them, he saw her just exactly as she was, in her glistening green eyes. She wasn't a girl pretending to be a woman. She wasn't a sinner pretending to be a saint. She wasn't a person struggling to be a mother. In truth, she wasn't ever those things.
She was Eliza. And she was so much more than enough.
Withdrawing her hand from around his hip and resting it atop the one he had in her hair, she brought his hand around closer to her face and pressed kisses into his palm.
Each kiss there pulled him closer to her as he kneeled forward for her mouth. And they reclined back onto the bed, Eliza underneath him.
When he positioned himself between her legs, she broke away from his mouth and took a breath. "Ge-gently," she gasped. When he paused, she looked into his eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry!"
"Don't be," he said, shaking his head.
"I'm still a bit nervous about… That it'll hurt. And that…" her cheeks flushed even rosier, "it won't be the same for you."
"Ain't about that for me. I want you to feel okay about it. Better than okay," he propped himself up and ran his thumb back over her hairline, keeping his eyes on hers. "We don't have to. We can wait."
But with just those few words, her confidence and desire were propelled miles forward by his patience, sweetness, and selflessness. And she quickly rose up on her elbows to take his mouth in hers.
"You sure—"
But she cut him off again with another kiss.
From where Arthur stood watching, he smiled softly and nodded as he turned and left the room. "You always were gentle with 'em. Weren't you? Both of 'em. Even though you coulda sworn you didn't have it in you."
And a little while later, his younger self opened the bedroom door, still naked, and brought Isaac in his bassinet back into the room.
When Arthur blinked again the honeymoon cabin was bright, with daylight trickling in through the windows. He was standing in the bedroom watching Eliza giggle where she sat in her white cotton nightgown across her husband's lap while his hands rested on her lower back. Both her legs were to one side, and she had his straight razor in her hand. They were seated before a little mirror vanity.
"Oh! Hold still!"
"You ain't ever done this before," he said through a layer of snowy white shaving suds. "I'm supposed to just relax, sit free an' easy?"
"Well, still! At least!" she laughed, holding the razor up.
"Ain't even terribly long. I thought you liked my scruff."
"'Course I do. I like you every way. But every once in a while calls for smooth, soft kisses. Not prickly, scratchy ones," she scrunched her nose with a grin. "And I'd say a honeymoon is that occasion. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Morgan?"
"Guess I can't argue with that, Mrs. Morgan," he smirked. "But you go with grain. You know that, right?"
"Of course. I did have a father." She started to bring the razor up again.
"And you can't rush through it. You gotta go slow."
"Oh, hellfire, Arthur!" she laughed, dropping her arm. "You can't talk either!" Her eyes pulsed wide a moment as she straightened her back. "Now. Go like this," she mumbled, pulling her top lip taut across her teeth and looking down at him over her cheeks.
He rolled his eyes, but complied.
At the sight, she pursed her lips together to stifle a laugh and brought her hand up to position the straight razor. But before its edge ever touched his skin, she was giggling again, this time through her nose.
He yanked his face away and couldn't keep from smiling. "You can't laugh while you do this," he chuckled.
"I'm not! I'm not," she fought to smooth her mouth.
Smirking, he shook his head and finally lifted his brows. "You're gonna make me bleed."
"Well. I already bled for you and Isaac."
He gave his head a little tilt to the side. "Ya got me there."
"Come on. Don't you trust me?"
He looked into her eyes, stilled, and slowly sat back. And she quietly went to work. He watched her face as she concentrated, only the sound of the blade gently scraping his skin filling the air between them. And each time she finished a stroke, she would wipe the razor on the cloth and look into his eyes before looking down for the next one.
She was removing the foamy suds and hair to reveal his skin, his angular jaw, his mouth. And all the while, his eyes were on her—deep and still and captivated. She could feel them, like an anchor, and she could hardly keep from looking up at them each chance she got between strokes.
"There," she finally whispered, wiping some residual suds from his face with the side of her finger and gesturing towards the mirror as she set the razor and cloth on the countertop. "Not a bad job. Hm?" When he didn't turn, she smiled and pushed his jaw towards the mirror with her thumb. "Look."
But he only glanced, and his head quickly snapped back to her.
She mumbled a little chuckle, but it fell away when she saw he didn't laugh with her. Swallowing, she gazed over his face, taking it in, landing at last on his eyes. She brought her hands to rest on either side of his jaw and slowly leaned forward for his mouth. And he was eager for her, tilting his jaw up to meet her.
Though it was slow and easy, it was a deep and hungry few kisses. As if trying to tell each other without words how lucky they both felt. And when she drew away with a smile, without a word she lifted her arms straight up into the air.
A smile slowly grew on his face when he took her meaning, and he scooted her nightgown up her thighs, bunching it and pulling it up over her arms and head.
He carried her to the bed, gently dropping her there with a little plop as she laughed, and he removed his own clothes.
From where he stood watching, Arthur sighed and began to turn. "I'll just…turn my back every time? I guess?" But when he glanced back, they'd already finished. "Oh, we sped ahead. Good," he said as he turned back around.
They were lying propped up on opposite ends of the bed, facing each other—Arthur at the headboard and Eliza at the foot—with the sheets haphazardly bunched over them.
Arthur lit a cigarette and left it in his mouth as he returned the matches to the bedside table.
She had her bare foot resting on his chest, and she bent her leg and began to run her toes through his chest hair.
"What—what're you doin'?" he mumbled with a wheeze, holding up his arms in confusion as she rubbed the sole of her foot on his chest. "What is this?"
"I like it," she said with a smile. "You're like my big bear rug."
He smirked. "I'm lucky your feet ain't rank."
"You wouldn't mind if they were," she said, looking down at his feet near her arm. She started to play with his toes, and he flinched a bit.
"Quit."
She looked up at him, her brows coming together, a grin slowly rising on her mouth. She danced her fingers under them again.
"Would you quit that?"
"Arthur Morgan, are you ticklish?"
"Nah!" he said, straightening his back against the headboard and fidgeting.
"Did I finally find a spot where you're ticklish?!"
"Nah, it ain't that. Just don't like that."
"And now you're blushing!"
He lifted his brows and made a show of rolling his eyes.
"Oh… Sometimes…" she grinned at him, shaking her head, "sometimes you're just too much." She went back to looking at his toes.
"Don't!" he picked up his leg.
"I won't! I'm lookin' at somethin' else."
Satisfied, and he relaxed his leg again.
She looked back down and picked his foot up, resting his heel on her chest as she inspected his toes. "You're so hairy, you've got dark hairs all the way down to even your little toe!"
"Yeah… So…" he whined nonchalantly, shrugging one arm.
"I wonder if you gave it to Isaac," she said, sitting up straight with a gasp and a burgeoning grin. "I wonder if Isaac has it! Oh, now I have to check!"
Still naked, she scurried up out of bed to where he was snoozing in his bassinet and peeked under his wolf skin blanket and sheets. "He does!" she whispered an incredulous laugh. "Our two-month-old baby has teeny tiny hair on his little toe!"
"I don't know what it is you're makin' such a fuss about," he drawled with a growing smirk. "I'm sure just about everybody's got that."
"No, I doubt I do," she grinned coyly, hopping back into her position in bed and wiggling her foot up near his head. "You check for me."
"All right, I will," he said in a tone dripping with adamancy, his cigarette still dangling and bobbing between his lips. He took her foot in his hand near the left side of his face and turned to look at it. "Well quit movin', this is scientific, now," he mumbled past the cigarette in a very mock-serious tone, knowing it would send her into a giggling fit as he kept his eyes on her foot and did a superb job of fighting even a hint of a smile at the sound.
He made a show of squinting hard as he took her curly little toe between his fingers. "You have…exactly one and a half golden princess hairs on your tiny little toe."
A raucous laugh burst through her nose as she slapped him on his sheet-covered thigh.
"You do! You can check for yourself!" he looked at her, finally allowing himself to smile wide.
Their laughter softly faded as the scene changed again, and Arthur found himself watching the three of them at the bathtub in the same room. The daylight had gone, and they'd lit candlesticks atop a couple of the bedside tables and the dresser.
Eliza was sitting bare in the tub with little Isaac in her arms, humming softly to him as she slowly and gently washed him. She kept his head near the crook of her elbow while the rest of him lied atop her forearm, his little belly peeking through the surface of the water.
"It's his turn to float," she smiled to Arthur, who sat on the floor beside the tub.
He smiled softly in response and watched her bathe him. She would cup her hand with a bit of the warm water and bring it up to lightly sprinkle the back of his head while he looked up at her and blinked his tiny doe eyes.
While she did, Arthur reached up and took her hairbrush from the top of the nightstand. He knew the sensation of having her hair brushed was always something she seemed to take deeply to heart and enjoy. As he gently and slowly pulled the soft bristles across her scalp and through her blonde hair, he watched her eyes close a few moments to savor it.
He looked down over her shoulder and took in all of it—what he saw there and what it meant. A woman sweeter than honey itself, more loving and understanding than anyone he'd known, trusting and comfortable enough with him to be completely naked and laid bare in his presence. A baby, his very own son, the product of both of them and only them, looking up at them. Growing fast and healthy, somehow already so smart and kind and big-hearted, he knew.
Both of them as they sat there were more precious than all the jewels the world had to offer.
Arthur noticed the expression on his younger face slowly slide into something solemn. And he knew it was because as precious as they were to him, he harbored the very same amount of fear that they'd come to know harm. That he'd lose them. That they'd be ripped from him somehow, someway. Because he knew all too well what kind of a world it was they were living in.
"Yeah, that's it," Arthur nodded where he stood, his voice growing. "That you're feelin' right now? That feelin' where you know you could be scared absolutely shitless if you let yourself be. You use it. You use it to make sure nothin' ever happens to 'em. You understand me?!"
His younger self hadn't heard him. But he was sure, if he knew himself at all, that he hadn't needed to.
The sound of Eliza's humming awoke him from his heady, worried tumble of thoughts. And when she smiled back at him, he pulled himself back into the moment with her.
As he continued to brush her hair, he watched her cup the back of Isaac's head before bringing her hand gently down over his cheek, chest, and belly.
"We're taking care of baby, you're taking care of me," she said quietly before looking up into his eyes. "And I'm going to take care of you, Arthur. I promise."
He was instantly reminded of her words at their wedding. And as he looked into her eyes, he knew she wasn't being coy or playing any games. She was speaking of their life to come. That in this sort of train of care they were making at the moment, she wouldn't let it be a representation that in life it would stop with her. She was promising him that she would always remember him and his needs too, look after him too. That he would never be taken advantage of or dismissed, that his good would never be forgotten. That he would always have someone there, thinking of him.
It was a simple sentiment that he'd never been offered by another human being. And as Arthur watched them look into each other's eyes, he knew he was a fool to've ever given her up. He'd been so thoroughly convinced that all he was, was bad for her. For both of them. And he'd forced himself to keep her at arm's length because of it. But she'd been just as convinced of the opposite.
They finished bathing Isaac, and Eliza nursed him and put him to sleep in his bassinet. And before long, Arthur's younger self had matched her level of undress, and they were beginning to make love on the bed.
Arthur groaned and started to roll his eyes where he stood. "I get it. You're havin' lots of sex. I get it, all right?" When he heard Eliza start to whine and frantically gasp, he ran a hand across his forehead and down the side of his face. "Jesus."
He couldn't help but glance over at the pair. His shoulder was under her chin, and he had his mouth on her jaw, her neck. She had her hand on his back, running down lower and lower. He gulped as he watched her underneath him where he drew back a bit and hovered. She had her chin tilted up ever so slightly as she struggled to chase the breath that sat just on the edge of her lips taunting and teasing her, unable to catch it.
"Hooo…Christ," he murmured a whine, rubbing his neck. "Is that what we looked like?"
His younger self smiled at the sight of her breathless, blissful expression as he finished her off and she unraveled, clutching tight to his shoulders. And they both lost themselves for a few moments.
When she came to and began catching her breath, she noticed his smile. "What?"
He couldn't suppress his grin. "Nothin'."
"Why're you smilin'?"
"Nothin', it's nothin'!" he laughed.
"What is it?"
"I just like seein' you like that, is all. Makes me happy."
"Like what?" she began to grin as he lied belly-down beside her, keeping his face near hers.
"I…can't explain it," he whispered, almost blushing. "Just that you're…really…enjoyin' yourself," he added with an airy laugh. "I like bein' the one to give that to you."
As she grinned, he began kissing her all over, sucking her soft skin and letting go quickly so it made a little popping sound—on her chest, her freckled shoulders, her neck, under her jaw.
"Because ain't no reason…" he said between each popping kiss, "you shouldn't have…all the happiness…this world has to give."
She smiled and mumbled a quiet, rolling giggle.
They finally both turned face-to-face and held each other in their arms, a still hush falling around them.
He noticed she would close her eyes and quickly blink them open. He brushed his fingers through the hair near her temple. "Tired, kiddo?"
"N-no, I'm not." But her eyelids were slinking up and down.
"Mmm…you're sleepy," he grinned.
"Mm-mm," she gave her head a tiny shake, wrestling with herself to keep her fluttering eyelids open. "First…first one to sleep has to…has to change all the diapers tomorrow."
"No."
"Who's it gonna be-eee? Not me-eee!" she quietly sang.
"No," he wheezed.
"Why not?"
"Because you're gonna be the one to change all the diapers tomorrow," he tried not to laugh.
"Nooo," she shook her head again.
"Why don't you wanna sleep, baby? Hm? Why don't you wanna close your eyes?"
"Mmmm…" she mumbled low with a sheepish grin, tugging her shoulder up tight to her cheek as her eyelids fought her.
"Huh?" he gave a little chuckle. "Tell me."
Her eyes were doing more closing than anything now. "Because…" she smiled, running her palm up his chest, over his neck, and resting her forearm over his shoulder, "because I don't wanna miss you, Arthur. I don't wanna miss you."
His brows drew up, and a smile inched its way up the corners of his mouth as he watched her begin to unwittingly give in and drift off. He gently rubbed her arm and back to ease her on her way. And he came close and brought his hand to rest on her neck under her ear as he pressed short, gentle kisses to her soft lips.
"I love you," arose like a simple breath from him.
But as he drew away, he saw she was already fast asleep.