Title: A Dream Life
Author: Andrea
Rating: R
Summary: Abby and Carter are happily married and having a baby. A girl. Imagine that.
Author's Note: Thanks, COURTNEY. The line-by-line editing was awesome, as usual. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I know that a lot of you are waiting for updates on the other fics, and I'm working on them. But first I have a Christmas fic to finish. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this.
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A Dream Life
Chapter 16: Practice Makes Perfect
"Thank God this shift is almost over," I say, plopping down in a chair next to Carter.
"Tired?" He asks, giving me a sympathetic smile.
"Tired of being here."
"Aww, poor Abby." This time he sounds slightly less sympathetic and slightly more sarcastic.
"Hey … give me a break. This," I say, gesturing around the ER, "is like my second job, now."
"Second job? What's the first?"
I give him a look, wondering if he's serious. I look down at my stomach pointedly. "Um … the twenty-four-a-day job that I have. I like to think of it as … having your baby."
"She's right, you know," Susan says from behind me. "It's not like you can ever take a break from pregnancy." So now we are both giving him a look.
Apparently the guilt trip works since he stands up and, moving behind me, begins to massage my shoulders. "Better?" He asks.
"Mmm," Is my only response.
"Yeah," Susan says, "That's better. Abby is doing all the work, you know … and you get to reap the rewards, too. So I wouldn't think a little sympathy would be so much to ask for." See, I knew I liked her for a reason.
"He's really very good," I tell Susan. "Understanding … patient … and he's getting quite good at the whole foot massage thing. Not bad with the shoulders, either."
"Glad I'm good for something," John says. "And it is the least I can do."
"That's right . Since I'm the one who gets the back aches and swollen ankles. Heartburn and insomnia."
"You don't have any of that," Carter tells me. As if he would know.
"Well … not yet. But I will."
"How do you know?" He asks.
"Typical pregnancy side effects. Everyone knows that. Besides, it says so in the book."
"Ugh," John groans, "That damn book."
"Hey, you're the one who bought that damn book."
"Yeah, but I didn't know it was gonna become our bible. I didn't know we'd have to eat sleep and breathe that book like it was gospel."
"John," I say, a note of warning in my voice. He knows I don't like being teased about this.
"And it's not just that one," he says, turning to Susan now. "It's all of them. Okay, yeah … I bought them. But I thought they would be for reference … or maybe we'd glance through them from time to time. I think Abby here has read them all cover to cover. Twice."
"Cut it out, Carter," I say, but he doesn't seem to notice the sharpness in my voice. Neither does Susan, who's grinning with Carter.
"And maybe if it were just the pregnancy or baby care books, that would be one thing. But she's even got a book on baby products so that we can do research before we go and buy the baby stuff. And I didn't buy that one. Or the book on potty training. Or the one on choosing a preschool. I think Abby's completely up-to-date on child development through at least age six, right Ab?"
"And I thought you'd be the bad one," Susan says to Carter, shaking her head at him. Bad one? What's she implying? And why the hell is this so funny to them?
"I think Abby wins in the most neurotic parent-to-be contest. Don't ya, Ab?" He ruffles my hair while asking, probably thinking he's being cute.
"Shut up!" It just sort of bursts out of me … just before the tears bubble up. I shrug his hands off my shoulders and bolt from my chair toward Exam One.
"Abby?" I hear Susan call. "I think she's upset," she says, presumably, to Carter. It's a good call on her part.
I push into the exam room and, luckily, find it empty. I shut the door behind me and twist the blinds closed. Snagging a box of tissues, I climb onto the gurney an settle in for a nice long cry.
"Abby?" Carter pushes the door open quietly moments later and slips in the room.
"Go away," I sniffle.
"Hey, don't do that," he says, taking his place next to me on the gurney and picking up my hand.
"Leave me alone," I say, jerking my hand away.
"I'm sorry." I don't say anything, just stare down at my hands in my lap, fiddling with the tissue box. "Ab? I'm sorry that I upset you. I was just goofing around. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He puts his hand on the back of my head and smoothes down my hair soothingly. I don't protest. Not even when his hand slips off my head and down my back, coming to rest alongside my hip. He uses his arm to pull me towards him, forcing me to lean against him. "You're not gonna stay mad at me are you?"
I look up at him and see him smiling at me. But sincerely and contritely, without a trace of mockery. He doesn't seem amused anymore, but rather, he seems concerned. He pulls a tissue out of the box in my lap and uses it to wipe the tears off my cheeks. I sniffle a few times, trying to fight the tears and regain control.
"No," I finally say. "I'm not gonna stay mad at you."
"Good." He kisses the top of my head. "I really am sorry, you know. I never want to make you cry."
"I know. And I'm sure I'm just overreacting. Hormones, you know. I'm overly sensitive about the whole thing … it's just that … I don't want be teased about this. It's too important me."
"The books?" He asks, sounding legitimately confused.
"No. Motherhood."
"But I was just teasing you about the books."
"No, you weren't. I mean, you were … but it's what they represent. I know you think it's silly that I read them all the time. And maybe it is a little neurotic, but … I just … I just want to be a good mother. For Emily. And I want to do whatever I can to make sure that I'll be the best mother that I can be. And the only way I know how to do that right now is to read everything I can about it. And try to figure out the best way to do things once she gets here. I just don't want to screw it up."
"Oh, Abby," he says, reaching around to wrap his other arm around and pulling me into a hug. "You're gonna be the best mother. You really are. And you don't need the books to tell you how to do it. You're lucky, you've got amazing instincts. And our little girl is incredibly lucky that she's gonna have a mother like you. A mother who is so concerned that she'd read every baby book under the sun if she thought it meant making her little Emily happier. You'd already do anything for her, wouldn't you?"
I nod against his chest. It's true. I would. Anything. I won't let anyone hurt her, ever. Especially not myself. And I just want to do everything I can now to guard against that. So that if there's ever a time when I'm at my wits end and frustrated beyond belief … maybe something that I've read, that I've learned will pop into my head before I do something wrong … something that would screw her up for life.
"See?" John is saying, "You don't need the books. You already know how to be a good mother. But if it makes you feel better to read them, then you should. And I was wrong to make fun of it. You're just trying to be a good mom. And you have no idea how much I admire you because of that. Seeing the kind of mom you're gonna be? Abby, it just makes me love you all the more. And it makes me pretty proud of myself, too."
"Proud of yourself?" I ask, looking up at him.
"Uh-huh," he says, with a little half smile, "That I did such a good job picking the right person to be my children's mommy."
"Oh," I say with a little chuckle. "Thank you. I guess I didn't do so bad getting good daddy material, either." I lean more fully against his chest, happy to be wrapped up safe in his arms. For a few moments that seem like hours, we stay cuddled up together in a nice, safe cocoon, and I, for one, don't really want to go anywhere. But then suddenly, I find myself moving away from him. He gives me a questioning look.
"Oh my God," I say, looking down at my belly. "Did you feel that?"
"What?" he asks, a bit breathlessly, his eyes searching mine.
I grab his hand and put it against my belly. "She's kicking." I'm a little amazed that the fluttery little almost-nothings that I've been feeling the past few days have suddenly resolved into such a strong, purposeful movement. I know this is the way it happens, of course. But actually feeling it is something else all together.
"What?" John says again, still breathless and awestruck. "She's kicking?"
"Uh-huh." I nod. "Just wait a minute, she'll do it again."
"When?"
"Well, I don't know … she doesn't let me in on it. But if she did it once, she'll do it again. Just have a little patience, Daddy."
Keeping his hand on my belly, he leans his head down toward it as well. "Emily … Emily? Kick for Daddy. C'mon, Em … I'm waiting. One good kick for your daddy? Please, Emily?"
"I don't think she understands English yet," I tell him with a giggle.
"Should I try it in French?" He asks.
"I don't think that will work, either. I don't know why you're in such a hurry anyway. You usually are looking for an excuse to feel up my belly."
"Em-i-ly," he calls in a singsong voice with his head up against the bulge, his hands framing the roundness. "Can't you do something?" He asks, looking up at me.
"Like what? She may be inside of me, but I don't control her, you know. I'm just her host."
"Well, we're gonna have to stay right here until I get to feel her kick."
"Fine with me. It looks a little peculiar … you lying here on this gurney with your face pressed against my stomach, but, you know, whatever."
"Well, it's not like there's anyone in here," he says, pulling his head away from my body to look up at me, "And I have to tell you, they already think we're a little peculiar, anyway,"
"There! Did you feel that?" I ask as I feel another good kick.
"That's not funny, Abby."
"Who's being funny? She just kicked. Right … here," I say, moving his hand to where his cheek was just moments ago.
"I missed it? I can't believe I missed it."
"She'll do it again."
"Yeah, sure … as soon as I move my hands away." He looks so disappointed that I take pity on him. Not that I think it'll do any good, but …
"Emily … c'mon now, babe … kick for your Daddy," I instruct my belly, poking at the bump.
"Hey! She kicked!" Carter's whole face lights up as we feel the little thump. "That is so cool." He sounds a little awestruck, like he can't quite believe it. Which makes sense, since that's exactly how I feel. My baby is kicking.
"It's even better than cool. It's all those other words that we seem to keep using all the time these days. It's incredible."
"Amazing."
"Awesome."
"Miraculous."
"Yeah. A miracle," I say, distractedly, lost in thoughts that I ultimately decide to voice. "You know, up in OB, sometimes it becomes kinda common place. Sometimes you forget just what a miracle it is. But now, being a part of it myself … not only am I reminded of how extraordinary it is, but I'm realizing every day that it's more of a wonder than I ever knew. Five months ago, John … there was just you and I … but now … now there's a whole new person that didn't exist before. From nothing into a baby growing inside of me … kicking me. It's … wow."
"I know. I can't imagine a bigger miracle."
"We're so lucky," I say quietly.
"That's just what I was thinking." We spend the next few minutes just admiring my belly, laughing each time we feel a little thump against our hands from Little Miss Emily.
"I guess we should get back to work," I say eventually.
"Well, I should get back to work," John says, sounding reluctant. "You get to go home now."
"Hey, that's right," I say, smiling at the idea.
"Glad to see you're feeling better. You're okay now?"
I nod. My bout with self-doubt seems to be over … for now. These fears and insecurities tend to crop up every now and then, and maybe always will. But at the moment, I'm okay. So I take John's hand and we sneak out of our refuge. He needs to get back to work, and I need to get out of here. We part company with a kiss when he goes to greet a new patient, and I head for the lounge to collect my things.
"Abby!" A little voice calls out excitedly to me as I walk through the door.
"Hey, Susie," I say, happy to see her.
She runs over to me and throws her arms around my waist, giving me a tight hug. Of course I reciprocate, hugging her back. Since she's been living with her Aunt Susan the past couple of months, I've spent plenty of time with her. And we're getting to be … friends, I guess you would say. I like her a lot; she's a great kid. She's pretty much Susan all over again. Only shorter. And with a directness and honesty that you can only really find in kids. This display of affection for example … happy as Big Susie might be to see me at any given time, she's never lunged at me and thrown her arms around me. It's kinda cool to have someone around who is so open with their feelings.
"Hi, Emily," Susie says, pulling away from me and patting my belly. She seems intrigued by the pregnancy, always asking about the baby. And she was very excited to find out that I'm having a girl. Luckily, both Big and Little Susie approved our choice in names (because God only knows what would have happened if they didn't) and have quickly settled into addressing the baby as Emily.
"What are you doing here, kiddo?" I ask her. "Shouldn't you still be in school?"
"Early dismissal."
"No after care?" I ask, referring to the school's late afternoon program that she usually attends when Susan is working.
"No, thank God. I hate after care."
"You do? Why?"
"It's boring. We have to make stupid crafts. Or play dodge ball. I don't wanna play dodge ball."
"I don't blame you, I wouldn't want to play dodge ball either. I guess you could always … do your homework," I suggest in an exaggerated sarcastic voice. She laughs, but rolls her eyes at me. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about it today."
"No, I'm just stuck here instead. Which is just as boring."
"Maybe Alex will be by after he gets out of school," I suggest. It just gets me a horrified look. "What?"
"That kid's a freak. His behavior is truly bizarre. I think he needs some psychiatric help."
"How old are you again? Are you sure you're in grade school? Because you talk like a 35-year-old."
"I read a lot," she tells me. "Aunt Susan says that's where I get my expansive vocabulary."
"Expansive, huh? I don't think I could have spelled expansive when I was your age, much less used it correctly in a sentence."
She just giggles and watches me get my stuff together. "Are you going home now?" I nod. "Lucky." She makes a face, presumably about her lot in life … getting stuck sitting around the doctors' lounge.
"You wanna come with me?"
"Really?" She asks excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch.
"Sure. As long as it's okay with your aunt. But I have to warn you … I have to run some errands on the way it home, so it may be …. boring."
"No, it won't."
"And I don't know that there's anything fun to do at my place either. So it might not be any better than this place."
"Yes, it will. You'll be there." I can't help but smile at that. It's nice to feel so well-liked. "And I promise I won't bug you or anything. I'll help. You know, with dinner and stuff. Or whatever else. I don't mind helping with chores."
"Oh, good. Today's the day I scrub the toilet."
"Okay … I'll help." She's such a sweet kid, I really shouldn't tease her.
"I was just kidding," I tell her making a silly face and ruffling her hair. "Boy, you must really want to get out of here."
"Desperately." I shake my head at that.
"C'mon … let's go find Aunt Susan."
We find Susan in an exam room, peering into a patient's ear. She looks up when we open the door and smiles at us as we stand in the doorway.
"Can Susie come home with me?"
Susan gives me a long look, then turns a suspicious eye toward her niece. "Susie? You didn't invite yourself to Abby's did you?"
"No, I swear I didn't," Susie tells her.
"She didn't. It was all my idea. She seemed a little … bored," I say, sharing a look with Susie. "I'm off now, and I wouldn't mind some company this afternoon. Carter's on until 8."
"Oh," Susan says, understanding. "Are you sure you want to baby-sit, though?"
"I'm not baby-sitting," I tell Susan, wrapping an arm around Susie's shoulder, "We're just hanging out."
"You're sure?"
"Yes," I say, a little exasperated already.
Susan narrows her eyes at a us for a minute. "Okay. But Susie … listen to Abby and do what she tells you. And don't expect her to entertain you all the time. Take your homework and your books, okay?"
She nods happily, and walks over to Susan to give her a hug, "Thanks, Aunt Susan."
"Don't thank me, thank Abby."
"Thanks, Abby." My turn to get a hug. "I'm gonna go get my stuff," she says as she leaves for the lounge.
Susan finishes up with the patient and joins me in the hallway outside the exam room.
"You don't have to let her talk you into these things, you know."
"She didn't talk me into anything … and you're the one who always says I should be practicing."
"You're sure you don't mind?"
"Susan. I was the one who suggested it. I wouldn't have said anything if I minded. So … when do you want me to bring her home?"
"No, I'll pick her up."
"Okay. What time? I have a few errands so just in case …"
"Well, I'm off at 3 ..."
"For some reason, I hear a 'but' at the end of that sentence. Let me guess … since I've already got her, you want me to keep her for a while."
"Would you mind?" Susan asks hopefully. "Luka's off today … and it would be kind of nice if we could spend some time just the two of us. I mean, he's great about doing stuff with Susie … but sometimes it's nice to be alone. It's just that I feel bad enough already that I work so much … I hate to leave with her a baby-sitter on top of it, just so that I can go out. But this would be a great chance for dinner … maybe a movie."
I raise an eyebrow at her. "I can think of a much better way than dinner and a movie to spend your kid-less time. I guess you two really do need to spend some time alone."
"Abby."
"So when do you want to pick her up? Tomorrow? Next week?"
"I was thinking more like 7 or 8. Get her home in time for bed." I give her a long look. "But I might take you up on that sleepover offer sometime soon."
"But not on a school night? Because I certainly couldn't be trusted to get her to school in time."
"This is you and Carter we're talking about Abby. You two would probably be in the shower together for three hours, and Susie would have to call a cab."
"Oh, haha. You know, that's not funny."
"What's not funny?" Susie asks, coming up and taking hold of my hand.
"Your Aunt Susan." Susie looks back and forth between us, but doesn't say anything. "We were just talking about you coming to my place for a sleepover some time. Would you like that?"
"Yeah! Tonight?"
"No, not tonight. Your aunt doesn't seem to think I'm responsible enough to keep you on school night. It would probably have to be a weekend."
"This weekend?" She asks with brimming excitement.
"No, Miss Munchkin, not this weekend," Susan tells her, yanking lightly on one of her braids. "Do you have all your stuff?"
"Yep."
"Got your homework?"
"Uh-huh."
"Your jacket?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not gonna find your stuff spread all over the lounge? You're not gonna call me in five minutes and ask me to look for something you can't find, are you?"
"No, I've got everything."
"Okay. Be good," Susan tells her. "Thanks!" She calls to me as Susie and I make our way down the hall.
We find the Jeep in the parking lot and Susie climbs into the backseat while I get in behind the wheel. It's already becoming a tough maneuver.
"This is a cool car," Susie says from the backseat as we get underway.
"Thanks. It's Carter's. Well, I guess it's both of ours, but he's the one who choose it."
"How come you call him Carter?"
"I don't know," I say with a shrug while keeping an eye on the delivery truck next to me that seems intent on running us off the road. "I guess because when I met him, that's what everybody called him. Why? Do you think it's weird?"
"Kinda. I mean, Carter's your name, too."
"Yeah." I forget that sometimes. I mean, I know what my own name is, of course. And when I hear 'Abby Carter' I know that's me. But … 'Carter' is still … well, Carter. Even after all this time. I guess by now it's become like a pet name.
"I like him."
"Who?" I ask, afraid I may have missed something.
"Carter." The 'duh' is implied in her tone of voice. "He's nice."
"Yeah, he is," I agree, as I pull into a parking space at the grocery store.
"What?" Susie asks, as she gets out of the car. She's probably noticed the faraway look on my face.
"I was just thinking … you know, he really is nice. I don't think I've been quite so nice to him lately. Not that I've meant to be … mean to him. But with being pregnant, I've been kinda … sensitive. I get upset about things that usually wouldn't bother me at all."
"Mood swings?" She asks, with a sympathetic smile as if she knows how bad it can be.
"Yeah. And he's been great about understanding. And trying to help me. And what does he get in return? Just more of me being bitchy -- oops, sorry," I say, embarrassed to have forgotten that I'm talking to a kid.
"It's okay … I already know the 'b' word. Lots of others, too."
"Okay. Glad I wasn't the one to corrupt you."
"No, my mom took care of that," She tells me as we push our way into the grocery store. Guess I don't have to explain what 'corrupt' means.
"My mom, too," I say, remembering some the more colorful phrases I learned at Maggie's knee.
"You want me to push the cart?" Susie asks, wanting to be helpful, I'm sure.
"Sure," I nod, letting her take the 'wheel.'
"Is your mom a drug addict?" She asks, casually, as if substance abuse among family members is a regular topic of conversation. Then again, I suppose maybe it is.
"Nope," I tell her. "My mom has … other problems. But drugs wasn't really one of them."
"That's good," Susie nods. "Drugs will mess you up. My mom's a drug addict. She stops sometimes. But then she starts again. And she drinks too much. She and my step-dad fight about it all the time. I hate it when they fight."
"It's scary, isn't it?"
"Did your parents fight a lot, too?"
"Um … I don't really remember. My dad left when I was pretty young. But I know how frightening it is when your parents seem out of control."
Susie studies me for a minute while helping me pick out some apples. "It's better here, though." She finally says, maybe feeling that admitting that is a betrayal of her parents.
"That's good. I know your aunt Susan loves having you here with her. And I'm sure your parents miss you, but if you're happy here … I'm sure they want you to be happy."
"I'm sure they want me out of the way. So now Aunt Susan's stuck with me."
"Susie," I say as we wander down the cookie aisle, and I put one of everything in the cart, "your Aunt Susan isn't stuck with you. She's thrilled to have you here with her. This summer, when you were at camp, she told me how much she was hoping you'd be able to stay. She loves you, and she wants you to be happy. And she knows that it's kinda hard for you with your parents right now. But you know, your parents didn't want you to go … Susan had to do a lot of talking to convince your mom that it would be the best thing for you. When you love somebody, you want them to be happy. Even if that means that it might make you miserable. Especially when it comes to parents with their kids. So long as the kids are okay, they're willing to do just about anything."
"Would you do it?"
"What?" I ask, trying to decide between original Chips-A-Hoy and the soft and chewy variety.
"Send Emily away." That gets my full attention. My hand drops automatically to my little belly. At the moment I can't even imagine not being in constant contact with her 24 hours a day. Send her away? The thought alone is enough to bring me to tears. But I try to ignore that and concentrate on what Susie's really asking.
"I wouldn't send her away," I say slowly and with emphasis, looking this sweet little girl directly in the eyes so that she'll know I mean every word I'm about to say. "But if I thought that she needed something that I couldn't give her … if I thought my problems were hurting her and someone else could take better care of her until I got my life together … yes, I'd let her go somewhere that I knew she'd be safe and happier than I could make her. It doesn't mean I wouldn't love her anymore. In fact, it's only because I love her that I would let her go in the first place. Does that make sense?"
She nods and smiles a little bit. Then the smile turns into a big grin as she watches me load the cart up with Fudge Stripes, Nilla Wafers, and the Chips-A-Hoy. "Boy, that sure is a lot of cookies for two people. You and Carter must like cookies."
"These are mostly just for me. And Emily."
"Cravings?" She asks. How does she know this stuff?
"Yeah. Last night it was apple pie. At three in the morning. Poor Carter."
"Did he get it for you?"
"Uh-huh. Four different stores. In the middle of the night." I stop and think about that for a minute. Carter driving around at 3 a.m. looking for an all-night grocery store with a bakery stocking apple pie. "He's such a good guy. And I'm not even sure if I thanked him. He's always going out of his way to do nice things for me and then, thanks to these mood swings, half the time I just end up yelling at him. Now I feel kinda bad."
"Maybe you should do something nice for him," Susie suggests.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. How about a nice dinner? That's what my mom does for Joe when she's trying to butter him up for something. Can you cook?"
"Sure. I'm not a gourmet chef or anything … but yeah, I can cook. Dinner, huh?" Am I really taking marriage advice from a ten-year-old?
"Something special. What's his favorite food? You should get his favorite food."
"That's a good idea." Yeah, I guess I am taking advice from a kid.
"So what does he like?" Um … that's a good question. This is Carter we're talking about. Growing up the way he did, he's no stranger to white salmon mousse … but he seems happiest with a bagel. And the past few months, he hasn't even bothered to voice an opinion, but simply gone along with my craving of the moment.
"Well …" I start, considering my options. We turn down and aisle full of dried pastas. "Ooh, pasta sounds good. With a cream sauce. No, a marinara sauce. Ooh, macaroni and cheese."
"Abby." Susie's voice and tone are very reminiscent of her aunt's. She's scolding me. "Not what you want," she says, shaking her head, "What he would want."
"Um …"
"How about steak?" Susie finally suggests, probably deciding that I'm hopeless.
"Steak? Yeah, steak sounds good. Steak with macaroni and cheese on the side." I'm sure my eyes light up at the thought. But Susie is shaking her head again.
"Forget the mac and cheese. I think that would kinda ruin the whole 'special' thing."
"But now I really want the mac and cheese."
"Well, I like mac and cheese. We can have it as a snack. Or call it my dinner."
"That's an even better idea." I like how this kid thinks. I give her a smile as I toss a couple of boxes of macaroni and cheese into the cart.
We cruise through the rest of the store with me loading up the cart with everything that catches my eye … so pretty much everything goes into the cart. Susie helps me plan my dinner menu, right down to the dessert. It's a lively debate that finally ends with me suggesting a brownie sundae -- brownies topped with ice cream covered in chocolate sauce and whip cream. Susie likes the idea of all that gooey chocolate; my mind is already considering all the possibilities of whipped cream and chocolate syrup.
"Hey, look … Jell-O." Susie says, picking up a box. "I used to love this stuff when I was a kid."
"When you were a kid?" I ask. What is she now? "I still love this stuff. We could make some this afternoon. Maybe I should just use that for dessert." Jell-O also has interesting possibilities.
"I don't think Jell-O Jigglers are very romantic."
"No, but they're fun."
"So we can make them. Eat them with our macaroni and cheese."
"Okay, toss it in," I tell her as we make our way to the check-out.
An hour and several errands later we're finally walking in the door at home. Just as the phone starts to ring. I drop the bags on the table and a grab the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Hey." Carter. Calling to check up on us, I guess.
"Hey." I say with a smile, "How's it going?"
"Good. Pretty quiet. I hear you have a play date this afternoon."
"Yep." Susie is currently unpacking the bags and putting all our cold purchases in the fridge. It's kinda handy having her around.
"Did you just get home?"
"Yep," I say again. "And I've got a surprise for you when you get home."
"You're pregnant?"
"If that's a surprise to you, you haven't been paying attention."
"Should I be worried about this surprise?"
"No. It's a good surprise."
"Hmm … it better be. So how are you feeling?"
"Since I left work two hours ago? Fine. I'm fine."
"Well, you were a little upset earlier."
"No, I'm fine now."
"Tired?"
"Not too bad."
"So … is she kicking a lot?" I can just hear the grin his voice.
"Aha! So that's why you called. To make sure you're not missing out on anything."
"Well …"
"Don't worry, Daddy … she hasn't been kicking much at all. She's probably taking her afternoon nap."
"It's about time for your afternoon nap, too."
"Probably not today," I tell him glancing at my young guest. Somehow it would seem rude to just sleep all afternoon and leave Susie to her own defenses. Not that she'd have any problems, I'm sure. She seems quite capable of taking care of herself.
"Oh yeah, that's right. Well, I'll let you get back to Susie."
"Okay. I'll try to keep the baby from kicking too much while you're gone."
"Thanks."
"But hurry home."
"For my surprise."
"Right."
"I can't wait. See you later. Love you."
"Love you, too."
"Bye," he says, sounding reluctant to hang up.
"Bye," I say with a sigh, turning off the phone. "That was Carter," I tell Susie.
"I hope so." She says, giving me a look that I've seen many times before from Susan.
"Thanks for putting all this stuff away," I say as I move into the kitchen.
"No problem. I told you I'd help."
"And you're a big help," I tell her as I take over the unpacking of the groceries. We get everything put away, the Jell-O mixed up and in the fridge to set, and then I send Susie to choose a board game for the two of us to play. I join her on the couch, bringing a little snack along for us, of course. Can't let all those cookies go to waste.
It takes us a while to discover that it was Colonel Mustard in the billiard room with the candlestick. In that time we also discover that yes, it really is possible for one little girl and one pregnant woman to eat an entire package of cookies. Okay, so maybe it was the pregnant woman who ate most of the cookies. And now that my belly is full, I need a nap. Who knew that having a baby would make me revert back to acting like a baby?
"You look tired," Susie says. "If you want to take a nap, it's okay. I can do my homework or watch TV or something."
"But wouldn't that be boring?" I ask, stifling a yawn.
She shrugs. "At least I'm not stuck at after care. Or in the doctors' lounge all day. Thanks for letting me come over."
"Anytime. We'll have to do it more often."
"Really?"
"Sure. I -- oh!" Suddenly baby Emily has woken up. And she lets me know with a good strong kick. John's not gonna be happy about this. But Susie might enjoy it. "Susie, come over here for a minute."
Susie gets up from the floor where she was kneeling, putting the game away. She sits down on the couch next to me, and I take her hand and place it on my belly.
"Is she kicking?"
"Yeah, she just started today. Well, I'm sure she's been kicking for a while now, but I only really started feeling it today."
"Oh! Hey, I felt that." Susie exclaims as we feel a little thump against our hands. "That's so cool. You're lucky; you get to have a baby."
"Yeah, I am lucky." I say for the second time today. Hard to imagine that I forget just how lucky I am sometimes … but on days like today, when I felt my baby kicking for the first time, it's easy to remember just how blessed I am. I look down at Susie who's little hand is still resting on my belly. "You like babies, huh?"
"Yeah. Do you think I can baby-sit for Emily after she's born?" Baby-sit? This little kid? Maybe four or five years after Emily is born.
"Hmm … I think you might be a little too young."
"Oh." She looks awfully disappointed.
"A little too young to watch her all on your own," I amend. "But that doesn't mean you can't help take care of her. When your Aunt Susan baby-sits … or maybe you can come over after school. I'm sure I'd be glad to have the help."
"Yeah?" She sounds excited now.
"Yeah, sure. I could have my very own mother's helper. And you could get out of that boring after care once in a while."
"I'm not complaining. It sounds like a great idea to me."
"You know what sounds like a great idea to me right now?"
"No. What?"
"Making that macaroni and cheese. I'm getting hungry."
"But Abby …" She glances at the empty package of cookies, knowing full well that I did most of the damage.
"What?" I ask … hey, I have a growing baby inside of me that needs cookies. And cheese-covered pasta.
"Never mind."
"Hey, I'm pregnant. I can't help it that I have a … healthy appetite." Susie looks a little skeptical, but chooses not to say anything.
So we make dinner … well, her dinner, my appetizer. And then I oversee Susie's homework while I start the preparations for the fancier dinner that John and I will share later. I find myself a little disappointed when there's a knock at the door. Judging by the time, it's Susan, here to pick up Susie, and I'm gonna be sad to see her go. It's been fun playing mommy all afternoon. Good practice too, I suppose.
Susie runs to the door, and once she's made sure it really is Susan and not some lunatic on the other side, she opens it up and lets her aunt in.
"Hey, Munchkin," Susan greets her, wrapping her up in hug. "How was your afternoon?"
"Good."
"You weren't too hard on Abby, were you?"
"Aunt Susan." The 'duh' voice again. "No. Of course not."
"She was a perfect angel," I say, stepping out of the kitchen.
"See? I was a perfect angel."
"Well, keep being a perfect angel and get all your stuff together so we can get you home. I'm sure you must have homework to do."
"Nope. I already did it. Abby checked it and everything."
"You checked her homework?" Susan asks me, joining me in the kitchen.
"Yeah, I even fed her, too. So I just might get this whole mom thing down in time, after all."
"That's not what I meant, Ab. I just meant that you didn't have to help her with her homework."
"It's not a problem."
"I really appreciate you having her over today."
"She's welcome anytime. Apparently I'm not as boring as after care, and I really like having her around, so … By the way, how was the movie?"
"Fine, I'm sure."
"But you probably couldn't give me a review if your life depended on it, could you?"
"Probably not."
"Did you make it to dinner?" I ask innocently.
"Yes. And it was really nice. Speaking of dinner … what's going on here?"
"I'm making a fancy dinner for Carter."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Because he's a good guy, and he's put up with a lot from me lately. Because I love him, and I thought he would enjoy it. Also, because Susie told me I should."
"Oh well, that is as good a reason as any. I guess."
"Hey, Aunt Susan, guess what?" Susie asks as comes over to join us in the kitchen. "I got to feel Emily kick."
"She started kicking?" Susan asks in that same excited tone that first John and then Susie used.
"Yeah, just today."
"Oh, can I feel?" Of course, she's already stuck her hands on my belly, so what am I supposed to say? "Hey! There was one."
"I know. I felt it, too," I remind her.
"Oh yeah. I guess so."
She and Susie spend a few minutes with their hands on my belly before Susan decides it's time to get Susie home. They happily say good-bye to me, and reluctantly say good-bye to the baby before heading out the door with Susie promising to come back to visit soon. I wave to them as they head down the hall before closing the door and hurrying back inside. After all, I have to get ready for a cozy, romantic dinner for two. My hand falls to my bulging stomach … well, okay … make that a cozy, romantic dinner for … two and a half. I smile at the thought and head back out to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on Carter's surprise dinner. He should be home soon, and I've still got a lot to do.
"C'mon Em," I say as if she has any choice, "Let's go get ready for Daddy's surprise. What do you say?" She, of course, says nothing, but I'll take those few little thumps that I feel to mean that she agrees.
One surprise romantic dinner for two and a half coming right up.