Arthur looked up at the wall to see a calendar hanging there, open to the month of August in the year 1998. Each day was crossed out up to the twenty-third.
He let out a breath and nodded with an airy chuckle in spite of himself. "Well, that makes it easy on me."
Noticing a mirror on the wall to the right, he stepped back to get a look at himself. The skin of his face was smoothed a bit, and he was a young man once again—mid-twenties. His hair was the longest he ever kept it, down to his shoulders. He had it parted down the middle and tucked behind both ears, and with the added length, the light tawny hues and even a few sporadic golden specks were surfacing.
Keeping his eyes on his reflection, his gaze shifted down to find he wasn't in anything gaudy or strange. He wore a simple snug white cotton t-shirt with a v-style collar and blue jeans.
Again, he registered the humming from a distance, its effect to his ears like warm honeyed milk on a child's tongue before bedtime. He moved towards the sound, hardly sensing each step until he arrived in the threshold of a bedroom to find her there, sitting crisscross before the adjacent wall with a paintbrush in her hand.
The song began so soft and slow, almost like a lullaby, as the male voice began to quietly tell his story:
.
"People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one. And we've just begun. Think I'm gonna have a son." ["Danny's Song," Loggins & Messina, you tu . be /XQnjjVrg5nM ]
.
The room was dimly lit, and there was a machine behind her, casting a lit sketch of a horse onto the wall she sat at. With a shade of gray on her brush, she was carefully painting an exact facsimile of the sketch onto the wall.
.
"He will be like she and me, as free as a dove. Conceived in love. Sun is gonna shine above..."
.
Arthur looked up and saw a large, chunky rectangular black thing sitting against the far wall, and as the chorus began, he determined that must be where the music was coming from.
.
"And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya, honey, and everything will bring a chain of love… And in the mornin' when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes and tell me everything is gonna be all right."
.
He gazed around at the room, finding a white crib in the far corner with a mobile of little horses in various states of running, dangling above it. A changing table was nearby, and a couple large, plush, soft blue chairs sat in the other corner.
.
"...Now I smile to face the girl that shares my name. Now I'm through with the game. This boy'll never be the same."
.
As the song continued, he shifted his gaze again to Eliza, where she sat softly humming with the music and painting the wall. Her blonde hair was haphazardly tied up in a wispy bun, and she wore an unassuming red and white gingham scarf behind her ears and over her head, to hold her hair back like a headband.
.
"...Strong and kind. And the little boy is mine. And now I see a family where there once was none. And we've just begun. Yeah, we're gonna fly to the sun."
.
Still unaware of his presence, Eliza swiped some stray hair from her forehead and dipped her brush back into the paint, scraping it against the side of the cannister and returning it to the wall.
With the next verse, she opened her mouth and quietly sang the words, subconsciously harmonizing with the male singer's melody, as if adjusting her lovely tone to provide complimentary sounds from her throat were not work, but merely second nature.
.
"Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup. Drink it up. Love her, and she'll bring you luck. And if you find she helps your mind, better take her home. Don't you live alone. Try to earn what lover's own."
.
Eliza's blissful, contented air and peaceful singing served to produce a soft, involuntary smile on Arthur's mouth as he watched and listened to her quietly join with the chorus again, never missing a word. And as the song transitioned into a pleasant, simple instrumental flourish of fiddle, piano, and guitar, Arthur rested his head against the doorjamb, the only thing tethering him to the earth as he kept his gaze on her with eyelids that slowly slinked up and down.
When the song ended and the air stilled, Eliza felt him standing there and turned, her face relaxing into a smile when she saw him. She returned her paintbrush to the cannister and attempted to stand, without much success. Arthur realized then that she was pregnant—very, very pregnant—and rushed to her side to help her up.
As she managed to arrive at her feet, he looked down over her pregnant body and noticed the rest of her outfit—a simple white cotton t-shirt and blue denim overalls with shorts rolled at the cuffs, rather than pant legs. And there were a couple little streaks of gray paint on her forehead and the side of her chin.
He couldn't restrain his little smile at how lovely she was. "S-so, uh... The house came before Isaac in this one, huh?" he mumbled quietly.
"'Isaac'?" she gasped and looked up at him with a bright smile, running her palm along the top of her belly. "You've already started callin' him that."
"Sure," he grinned, looking into her eyes. "That's his name, ain't it?"
Her smile warmed, and she slowly nodded as she looked down and rubbed her belly. "That's right. That's your name, baby."
As she began to walk over to the projector, Arthur suddenly caught himself and stuttered a bit. "I-I mean... If it's a boy, I mean."
She scoffed a laugh as she looked back at him with a wry grin and dropped her shoulder to turn it off. "You're still doubtin' the ultrasound?"
Arthur watched her walk towards the open bedroom door. "Ultra...what?" he whispered.
Missing what he'd said, Eliza flipped the light switch.
When the light came on, Arthur's gaze was immediately swept across the bedroom walls, covered as they were with dozens of similar horse sketches, and little colored paintings of things like stars, clouds, a sun, and little flowers scattered here and there. It only occurred to him then that all the horses were his own sketches, and all the little colored paintings were Eliza's.
As she returned to stand by his side, Eliza followed his gaze and smiled as she looked out across her project with him. "Mm... What are the chances our baby won't love horses?" she said low, her tone cozy and warm as the two of them turned to look at each other in the same moment.
A wide grin spread over his face, and he gave his head a brief tip to the side. "I reckon they're nil."
With the same contented smile on her face, she walked towards the large rectangular black thing against the wall. "So you know they say good music is good for the baby..." She bent to pick up a couple square things from the top of it and turned to look at him. "Okay, Eagles, or Journey?" she asked, holding them up in one hand.
His brows came together a moment, and he briefly shook his head.
"Journey it is!" she said, flipping open one of the cases, removing a circular, flat, shiny disc, and carefully inserting it into the device that sat on the floor. After pressing a few buttons, she straightened and looked back at him with a grin as the sound of piano keys yielding themselves to a confident musician filled the air.
.
"Highway run into the midnight sun. Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind. Restless hearts sleep alone tonight. Sending all my love along the wire." ["Faithfully," Journey, you tu . be/UFEgOzrqqCg ]
.
Eliza walked back to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, leading him into a slow sway as the skilled, raspy male voice continued to sing the impassioned, grateful lyrics,
.
"They say that the road ain't no place to start a family. Right down the line it's been you and me. Lovin' a music man ain't always what it's s'posed to be. Oh, girl, you stand by me. I'm forever yours...faithfully."
.
Parts of the music framing the vocals were performed by instruments Arthur had never heard before. One, he couldn't quite decipher—it sounded like the linework of lightning on the page of the night sky, if it had its own sound besides the following thunder.
.
"Through space and time, always another show... Wondering where I am, lost without you."
.
As Eliza turned towards her right just a bit to avoid letting her swollen belly keep her too far from him, Arthur let himself melt into the embrace. Feeling her warmth seep into his skin, feeling their bodies mold together like tender puzzle pieces, feeling the steady rhythm of her chest in and out as she breathed. And he took in the fragrance of her silky honey-colored hair—jasmine, rose, almond. The same she'd smelled of in reality, and he closed his eyes.
.
"And bein' apart ain't easy on this love affair. Two strangers learn to fall in love again. I get the joy of rediscovering you."
.
Listening to the words, the beat of the drums, the electric pathway of the song as it began to end, Arthur let himself fall into her pace, the gentle, elongated rhythm of their sway. And there they drifted together, two become three.
.
"Oh, girl, you stand by me. I'm forever yours...faithfully..."
.
When the song finally ended, and a still quiet replaced it once again, they continued gently swaying. Arthur weaved his arms more tightly around her, bringing her more snugly to him.
She slowly smiled, the apple of her cheek rising against his chest as she brought her arms down under his, stretched her hands out over his back, and nestled her head under his chin. "Mmm...you're extra cuddly today," she said. Sensing the muscles of his back under her hands, after another moment, she paused. "You okay?" she asked quietly, rubbing his back a bit. "You feel... Hm... I don't know."
He felt her under his chin as he opened his eyes and looked down at nothing. "I had...the most horrible dream," he finally managed, though it was pained and difficult.
A downward, empathetic whimper quietly arose from her, and, keeping her cheek to his chest, she rubbed his back with renewed purpose. "Think you can tell me?"
He remembered then that in the quiet moments, when they'd lain in bed together, she had never required his internal life or his dreams of him, never pressed him to share what thorny things resided in his heart, persistently pricking him. She'd only ever hoped, ardently though quietly, that he would trust her enough to unburden himself. And here she was, expressing that same fervent, steadfast hope for his trust.
He swallowed hard, taking a few extra moments to respond. "You were...gone. Isaac too."
Her brows came together as she listened to him.
"Taken. In the most...grievous, torturous fashion. Taken away from me," he said, reaching his chin over her head and tucking her as close as possible, finally whispering, "Away."
She tisked her tongue and quietly whined, "Arthur..." her voice breaking a bit as she rubbed big circles into his back. "Must've felt really real, didn't it?" When he didn't respond, she shook her head, though it was only a bit with her cheek pressed against him so. "It was only a dream, Love."
At the words, the words she couldn't know were like a blade's sharp point to his heart, no matter how light and soft her voice, his brows crinkled, and he closed his sagging eyes.
She finally pulled away just enough to look up at him. "Only a dream," she breathed. "We're right here." She looked into his eyes and brought both hands to either side of his neck. "Hm?" She closed her eyes and gently rested her forehead to his, silently willing him to take a few deep breaths with her, to focus on the feel of her touch, of her warm exhales on his skin. She looked up adoringly into his eyes. "Okay?" she quietly mumbled, purposefully checking on him again.
He cleared his throat and swallowed roughly; and while he was agitated, she remained calm and still—a grounding support to him. And he knew that if he didn't have to outright lie to her with a word, he'd at least have to mislead her with a gesture.
He offered a brief, broken nod, glancing down and back up into her eyes.
"Good," she smiled, exhaling a long sigh through her nose as she slid her right hand up the back of his neck into his long hair.
The feel of her touch, just being in her presence—it was like he was being magnetically drawn into her orbit. And after wasting so much time in reality being afraid to be vulnerable with her, afraid to hold her—really hold her—in a way that meant something intentional, he felt no resistance.
With his eyelids beginning to droop low, he was hopeful, expectant for her kiss, though he hadn't even realized he was until he heard her voice.
"You know what I want?" she said quietly, looking into his eyes as his lids began to rise. And with a simple, unpretentious grin, she answered herself, "A big ol' chunky monkey."
His lids rose the rest of the way, and he simply looked at her. But he wasn't given long to remain confused.
She let out a small giggle and walked past him through the bedroom door, down the hall and towards another room as he followed. And he realized they'd arrived at something like a kitchen, though it looked quite different from the ones he'd known.
Eliza waddled past a big counter with a granite top that sat in the middle of the room towards a huge rectangular, white box-like contraption that sat on its side against the far wall. Before she got there though, she caught a glimpse of herself in the large mirror above the sink and scoffed. "You weren't gonna tell me I had paint on my face?" she chuckled, wiping it off with a damp washcloth.
"Seemed to fit, and I liked it." Arthur followed her and stood to the side, watching her shake her head as she pulled the handle on the left and opened the smaller door on the top, which released a draft of freezing air.
"I know I usually crave pickled or spicy things, but today I've just gotta have one a' the best inventions known to man," she said with a latent smirk as she pulled something from the freezer. "Ice cream... The question is: what should the other flavor be tonight?"
Before she closed the freezer door, Arthur noticed something stuck to the front of it—a black-and-white photo, extremely blurry; but the shape definitely caught his eye. He pulled it out from under the magnet. "W-what's this?"
As the door closed with a quiet plop and she set her ice cream on the counter, she looked at what he held between his fingers.
"What d'you mean, 'what's that'?" she chuckled. "That's Isaac. 'Bout a month ago."
His eyes darted up to her, back at the photo, down to her belly, and back again.
"That was our last check-up ultrasound. Just to make sure everything was goin' okay."
Glancing again at the photo, back at her belly, and to the photo again, his eyes went wide. His gaze darted up to her, and his brows came together. "Noooo..." he said, his tone low and incredulous.
Standing still, she smiled, letting her eyes playfully slide side-to-side before looking back at him. "Yeeeess.."
He licked his lips and shifted his feet, and his brows scrunched. "You mean to tell me they can see inside there now?!" he gestured to her belly.
"You were there...!" she said with a wry grin and an arch to one brow, dipping her chin forward and wagging her head a bit.
Stuttering a few broken little sighed scoffs, he held the small square photo up to her belly before quickly bringing it up closer to his own face again.
Eliza chuckled. "Well, this is way smaller than he is. That's just a picture."
Arthur gently traced the white outline of what was clearly the profile of Isaac's beautiful head, his button nose... "Wow..." he breathed. "This is... Wow..." he tried to process, still almost unable to believe how amazing it was that he could see inside Eliza's belly, something he hadn't realized he'd always wanted. "So...so that's how they could tell he's a boy, before he comes out, I guess, huh?"
"Yup," Eliza smiled bright, rising on her tiptoes to bring her cheek next to his and point to a spot on the photo. "See, there's his little member," she sang.
Arthur's face relaxed, and a chuckle leapt up out of him. "Oh...so it is..." he said lightly, with a smile.
Eliza laughed. "Come on. I got two flavors and two spoons—perfect for stargazin'."
Returning the photo to the door of the fridge, he ran his fingers over it one last time before following her.
Entering the hall, Arthur followed her until they reached the front door where she paused and took a red and black checkered flannel from where it hung on a hook near the door, handing it to him. When he realized it was his, and that she was helping him remember to take it, helping keep him warm, he shook his head. "You take it," he said, taking it from her hand and hanging it around her shoulders.
She smiled, pulling the collar tight to her neck with one hand. "Well, thank you," she said lightly.
When she opened the door, he followed her outside. And with a wobbly smirk across his face, he watched her waddle, leaning back just a bit as she went, to manage her enormous belly. She was so pregnant, close to bursting. She must've been nearing her due date.
He followed her to an apple red pickup truck where she stopped at the end of the bed, opened the back, set the ice cream pints and spoons down inside the bed, and turned to him. He waited expectantly for a few moments.
"Gonna hoist me up, or what?" she finally quipped.
"Oh," he said with a laugh, promptly roping his hands back around to her waist and lifting her until she could sit on the bed.
Drawing her legs up, she turned and slid around while he hopped up himself and pulled her up to a standing position.
He followed her as she then walked towards the cabin, stopping and turning to face him again. But this time, he knew what she wanted. He looked at the hood of the cabin, then back at her with a playful smirk. "You won't dent it?"
She clucked her tongue and swatted his arm with a roll of her eyes. "We've done it a hundred times before!"
He chuckled. "Sure, but you ain't ever had this big a belly!" he teased as he lifted her onto the hood, then jumped up to sit beside her.
He watched her as she promptly unlidded the ice cream pints, noticing the wedding ring on her left ring finger as she handed him one with a spoon.
"What's this..." he said, turning it on its side to read the label, taking note of the wedding band on his own finger as he did. "'Ben and Jerry's...New York Super Fudge Chunk...'" he read aloud, then looked up at her.
She grinned. "I know it's a new flavor for you, sweetheart, but just try it. You'll love it." As she immediately opened and dug into her own pint, her shoulders relaxed. "Mmm...so good," she whined through her bite with a shake of her head.
An easy grin spread over his mouth at the sight of her. And he removed the lid of his pint and dug in, bringing a nice sized mound on the edge of his spoon up to his mouth. His brows instantly rose, and he released a long sigh through his nose as his shoulders relaxed. "Wow."
"Mm-hmm..." she nodded slowly. "Just as good as Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough?"
He looked up at her with a nervous chuckle just as he'd stuffed another bite in his mouth. "I guess..."
She giggled with a bright grin beneath her scrunched, freckled nose. Returning to her own pint, she curled her toes and arched her feet to stretch the front of each calf before letting them hang loose and swinging them a bit. Setting her pint atop her big belly, she rested the heel of her hand behind her on the hood to prop herself back and reclined just a little bit to shift her gaze up to the stars with a contented breath.
She stuck her spoon deep into her pint and took several moments to rub her belly with her free hand, glancing up at him. "How many you want?"
He looked up at her, his recent creamy bite still melting across his tongue. "Well, I-I just started," he mumbled, gesturing to his pint with his spoon. "You're already after me to think about another?"
She struggled to tamper back her wheeze as a bright, tight grin shot its way across her mouth. "No, nooo!" she threw her head back. "I meant... I shifted gears on you," she looked back down at her tub of ice cream and shrugged one shoulder briefly, so it touched her cheek a moment. "Well, I guess we've never really gotten 'round to talkin' about it yet..."
He swallowed his bite and let his eyes take in the different aspects of her body language. And he was clapped with understanding. "Oh... You mean kiddos?"
She looked up at him with a small smile and silently nodded.
Hunching a bit where he sat, he looked back down at his ice cream a moment, then lifted his head to look at the vibrant indigo sky, spread thickly with brilliantly twinkling stars above their corral and sprawling property, and bordered by stately black pines. The lightning bugs nearby flickered on and off mid-flight, lazily enjoying the warm summer night air.
He'd never had a moment's peace or a reason to really think about what she was asking, what he'd genuinely wanted. He knew that to answer her, he'd have to let himself forget his life for a few moments—their lives. To let go of it, for just a little while. To try, at least. To imagine himself without the gang and free from the many vast consequences that intrinsically accompanied it. To imagine himself his own man. Her man. To let himself live, in this moment, in this time, with her, and imagine what it could be like.
He'd already seen a version of himself live it out in his own time, seen him make multiple babies with her. Seen what might've been possible. Now she wasn't asking some other version of him. She was asking him.
"Truth?" he said, his eyes still up on the stars.
She nodded, licking her lips to clean up her recent bite. "The truth now," she mumbled past the cream. "Not somethin' you think I wanna hear."
"Truth is..." he said, his voice going level and measured. "Truth is I can't put words to how grateful I am for the one. I'd give my whole life and heart and soul for the one." A warm grin wanted to flicker on the corners of his mouth, and he slowly turned to look back at her over his shoulder with a smirk. "If it's with you, I... I don't really see an end." He watched her start to smile and pull herself to sit upright. "I want exactly however many you want, honey. No more, no less. I want exactly how many you want."
She smiled so brightly that it almost overtook her eyes for a moment as she drew closer to him, bracing herself on the heel of her hand as she leaned forward and brought her face close enough to his that she could almost kiss his cheek. "Really?"
His eyes still meeting hers, he mumbled wryly with a quiet, giggly chuckle that rattled his shoulders. "Well, how many is it you want?"
"I wanna see where life takes us, is what I want," she said quietly through lips still stretched wide in a smile, tipping her head a bit as she spoke. Moving only her eyes, she glanced down at his pint of ice cream. "Switch," she said, holding hers out to him.
He looked down and silently chuckled as their pints seamlessly changed hands. "Well, you know what a toll it takes on ya. 'S my only concern," he said, watching her recline back just a bit and take a bite.
"Ohh... But it's always gonna be worth it, Arthur. Each and every time, it will be. You'll see," she sighed.
"You're amazing," he quietly said with a growing grin. "You know that?"
She wore a warm smile again, letting it make her voice sound a bit groggy and nonchalant as she added, "Don't you wanna have lots of children, and lots and lots of grandchildren with me?"
He looked forward again and down past his ice cream. As his eyes glazed over a moment, he gave just a tiny nod and swallowed. "Sounds like a dream to me."
His thoughts shifted again, and after another several moments, he turned again to look back at her. "You weren't ever...concerned? To have an outlaw around your baby."
Just about to take a bite, her expression froze. "What?" she breathed. Then more loudly, "Of course not." Her brows slowly drew up, and she let her head sag towards her right shoulder as she reclined back a bit farther, continuing to prop herself up on the heels of her hands as she looked at him. "Arthur... You're so much more than just an outlaw. You always were." Her eyes drifted down, and she shook her head a bit. "I wish I could make you see..." she whispered.
Lifting her eyes back up to his, she continued, "All your life, all you've ever been made to believe about yourself is wrong. It's all lies. That you're worthless and unwanted, or only worth as much as you can do or get for others. That you're empty-headed, only good for manual labor or shootin' or bullyin'. That you're no good for those around you, that you only ever bring pain and suffering with you. That you're bad at heart," her eyes sagged, and she shook her head, "bad right down to your marrow, and that's all you can ever be. All you can ever choose."
She took a short breath and promptly let it out, shaking her head again. "It's all lies, Arthur. I know you. I know your heart. I've seen it. How gentle you are, how kind. How thoughtful, and how smart," she started to grin, hoping it would spur the same thing on his face. When it didn't, he revealed how intent he was on her words. Her face slowly smoothed again, and she nodded. "How good."
Still propping herself up a bit, she sat up just enough that she could reach his forehead, brushing some stray hair away with her fingertips. "You're a rough-hewn jewel inside there, Arthur," she said, gently tucking the hair behind his ear.
Though he didn't move, something inside him stood alert at the sound of the phrase, something she'd said to him once many years ago.
"Right there. Right in there," she said softly, pointing to his chest before returning her hand to the hood behind her. "You're beautiful. Just the truth. You're worth more to me than all the jewels in the earth." Looking into his eyes, she made sure she had his attention. "And you're gonna be the most amazing father. I have the utmost confidence in you, Arthur. You can't fail at it. All the things I just said, don't you want our son to be that? Only you can give that to him."
After a few moments, she couldn't keep from glancing down at the ice cream in his hand. "Switch."
A grin spread across his mouth, and he huffed an airy chuckle through his nose as he handed her the little tub, and she handed him hers.
She smiled and mumbled a chuckle as she took another bite from her not-so-new pint of ice cream. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the densely filled sky of sparkling stars. Setting her pint on the hood beside her, she brought her hand down and rubbed her belly, shaking her head as she looked back at him. "I don't regret any of it, Arthur. I don't. Not a single moment."
He watched her hand slowly come to a stop, still resting a top her belly. And his gaze rose to her face.
Her voice had changed, become heavier and smoother. "Those moments that only you an' me get to share. And I get to see you, like nobody else can see you. As gentle as you ever are. And you save it all for me," she whispered, a small but radiant smile working its way across her lips, like the flashed glimpse of the rarest of colors of a butterfly's wing, opening for just a moment as it rests, before continuing on its floating journey through the air.
She closed her eyes and turned her face away just a bit, the smile still resting on her face. When she returned her gaze to him, it was dreamy and almost soupy. "The feelin' of your breath 'cross my skin, like a warm feather," she whispered, lifting her hand to her shoulder and demonstrating as similarly as she could by softly trickling her fingertips over the crook of her neck. "Feelin' those softest parts of you, that nobody knows are there."
He watched her return her hand to the hood, though her eyes were still mercilessly on his. And he couldn't look away, despite the boldness she exhibited in speaking of such things, describing them aloud. The boldness that somehow both stilled him and warmed him from the inside out, and fought to make him blush. It was clearly a comfortableness and confidence, a familiarity and intimacy that he'd never known with anyone else. And she didn't stop, no. She went on like that. And her soft tone, her angelic voice as she so easily spoke such words, it nearly unraveled him.
"Feelin' you fit with me, so close, and so perfect. Like we were made to match up. It's like we just can't get close enough. And then, somehow, we do." She let out a long breath through her lips as she closed her eyes and briefly let her head sag towards her shoulder again, to gently stretch her neck. And when she held her head up again and opened her eyes, she looked down at her belly, the warm smile still resting on her mouth. "And then...that amazing feeling, it fills us up, washes over us, just takes us over, for a little while. Feeling it, it's like...we're sharing it. And it's almost supernatural, the way it binds and knits us together. And I see it wash all over you, and I just...I just have to believe that when you feel it, you know that's how I love you."
She shook her head. "And it gave us this baby. Our baby," she rubbed her hand there again. "The most precious, beautiful…the most amazing gift I could ask for. No, I could never regret a moment with you, Arthur. Not a moment."
She watched him look down, bashfully mulling over her words. And a contented smirk began to curl on the corner of her mouth. "And it's just one part of it, you know." She looked forward and tried to dig into her tub of ice cream again, all the while feeling his gaze shift to her again. "Whether it's...talkin' with each other, or makin' and givin' things to each other, doin' things for each other...or just sittin' with each other. Like this," she said softly, looking up with only her eyes, to meet his. "It's all part of showin' you what I feel for you. How I love you."
He looked back into her gaze, feeling himself begin to open his mouth.
But she suddenly gasped, pushing herself to sit upright. "Here, here—gimme your hand," she said with a smile, reaching for his far hand.
He set his pint down, turned toward her and leaned back to prop himself up with left hand, giving her his right.
She quickly grabbed it and placed it over her belly. But she was almost immediately unsatisfied, and hurriedly unlatched each strap of her overalls. Flipping the front panel away, she took his big hand and ran it down over her enormous belly, pulling up her white cotton t-shirt as she did. And they were finally skin to skin.
The very moment he first felt the bumps run under his palm and fingers, something light and bright and airy frantically wiggled in his own chest, matching the movement.
"That's an elbow," she whispered, the fingers of one hand intertwined with Arthur's over her skin and above her bellybutton, her other hand resting over his. When another bump glided beneath her skin, she added, "And that's definitely a foot."
It was a giddy, fluttery feeling, and he realized he was finally able to put a word to it. It was joy. Unbridled, boundless joy. His halted expression finally spread into a bright, buoyant smile as he let his body relax and let the feeling wholly overtake him. And he looked up at her with a wheeze, just as she scrunched her shoulders, ducked, and broke into a tickled giggle herself.
"He's done it a thousand times, and still, it's magic," she whispered.
"Ah... My god..." he sighed with drawn brows and shook his head a bit, looking down at her belly. "It's so..."
"Wonderful," they said at the same moment.
His eyes popped up to meet hers. Still floating amidst the feeling, he let his gaze wade over her face—her ravishing mouth curved into a kind, adoring smile; the faint freckles across her nose; her gorgeous chin; and back up into her gleaming eyes that caught the moonlight, setting fire to his soul—and before long, he was sinking deep into the mesmerizing green he found there.
It was so many things at once. Sharing a deep, indescribable love for their son. Sharing moments like these, when it felt like only she understood him. Having weathered everything they'd been through together in reality alone, both the painful and the good. But more than anything, it was a gentle, yet unrelenting tug on his chest towards her. Something he couldn't quite put words to. Or maybe, something he hadn't let himself put words to. Something he hadn't felt in years.
But if he let himself think back on it, the last he'd felt it was towards her.
"You know..." she began quietly, her tone low and lilting.
He only needed to glance down at the subtle twist to the corner of her mouth to know she meant it playfully.
"They say lovemakin' can really help in the third trimester, that it can even help bring on labor."
He slowly began to grin, his voice warm and quiet. "Oh, they say that, do they?"
"Mm-hm. And see, I know you're lookin' at me and thinkin' it'll be a lot of careful work on your part," she said a bit matter-of-factly, though lightly, with her brows brought together. She reached for her ice cream, digging in and taking a single bite before returning it to the hood of the truck beside her. "A lot of gentle massagin', and...cautious positioning."
His all-too-wise grin brightened further. "Is that code for what you're wantin'...?" he said quietly, his voice pinched and a bit squirrelly, though she purposefully continued over him.
"But I'm here to tell you..." she tilted her head just a bit with lifted brows, "I know I've got a rotund belly, but don't let that fool you—I can still maneuver. Real good," she nodded, letting her eyelids fall closed a moment to maintain her charade of solemnity.
A huff of air escaped his nostrils in a delighted chuckle. And as she opened her eyes again, he closed his lips, though his grin was still warm and knowing. "I bet you can."
She finally allowed herself to match his grin. "Get me down from this jalopy, and I'll show you."
He finally hung his head and shook it with a wheezy laugh.
"What? Why're you laughin'?" she asked with a smirk.
"That's it, just you," he brought his head back up to look at her with a smile. "You always did have a knack for sayin' just exactly how you felt. Didn't bottle it up. Somehow, you just almost always made it kind, or funny. But you were honest, plain. Didn't ever play any games with me. Didn't have a seal over your heart." He grew quiet, his expression softened. "You always...gave your heart right to me."
Her smile slowly melted away, her expression gradually faltering into something hazy, and she swallowed hard. "Because it's yours."
He was borderline drowsy with it, her love. And his eyelids drooped as he whispered, "I know."
And he was right back there, in their cabin, feeling the gentle tug on his hand as she beckoned him to lie with her on the bear rug on the hearth before the fireplace. Feeling her silently beckoning him to give her his heart.
She hadn't known it already belonged to her. He hadn't known it would never leave her.
Bringing both hands to rest on each side of her jaw, he leaned forward for her. He got as close as feeling her warm breath on his top lip. But when he should've felt her lips, something bright shone into his eyes instead, and he brought the backs of his hands over his forehead to shield it out.
Squinting, he inched open his eyes to see ocean waves gently lapping some glistening shore before him, faintly registering laughter and commotion somewhere nearby.
He smacked his tongue and involuntarily set his jaw tight and firm in his mouth with a low grumble. There were any number of curse words he could employ to describe what he was feeling. But what had he expected? Every time, he forgot until he remembered.
.
Dearest Readers,
I can't express how grateful I am to you for being so gracious with me. I am definitely on a journey, still growing.
The next chapter will be the last one that's like the few recent chapters. Then, chapter 27 will reveal. After that, we'll still have some more chapters to go in the work, but you'll (hopefully) have a good handle on what's going on.
I really can't believe it, but there's way more reader engagement on this site now than the other one (Ao3). Which is crazy to me and something I never thought would happen. But I'm so, so grateful!
A ginormous thank you to Allison, Paige, Will, every guest reviewer, and every single reader still with me. 💛 You're so kind, and I'm so grateful for you.
Side note: Not to try to say I'm super proud or so into my own stuff or anything like that, but the one work I've posted on Ao3 and not here is a (so far) 2-chapter Arthur x female reader insert work. It's not gratuitous at all, but the tone is different; though it's heartwarming, it's a bit somber and has to do with body image and self-worth struggles. I've not looked into how I would label or tag that on here, but I thought I'd let you know, and you can let me know if you'd like me to post it here. Though...it's completely separate and has nothing at all to do with this story.
Truly hope you're doing ok and love to all,
Rosie