Title: Finding A Way Home
Author: Andrea
Rating: R. Really, I mean that. So if you don't want to read anything rated R, please stop now. If there is anyone in the room who shouldn't be reading something rated R, please stop now.
Author's Note: Thank you, COURTNEY. (I'm sticking with simple and to the point this time.) To everyone else, thanks for the reviews, please keep that up. And … Enjoy!
*~*~*~*
Finding A Way Home
Chapter 12: First Date
"Yuck!" I say to my reflection, peering into the mirror at my latest attempt to find a shade of lipstick that doesn't look absurd. Six colors later and I still haven't found one that works. So far I've tried six shades of lipstick, three different hairdos, and four outfits … which is saying a lot since I barely have that many pairs of pants that fit.
"Get a grip, Abby," I mutter to myself. This is truly ridiculous. I've spent most of the day worrying about this date, and the past two hours trying to get ready for it. It's crazy. There's no reason to be nervous. It's not like I've never met him, never kissed him, never slept with him. You would think that having someone's baby would pretty much mean you wouldn't be nervous around him. But I guess not because I absolutely can't sit still. Never mind that we've had lunch together, whether at noon or at midnight, just about every day for the past two weeks. Never mind that we've probably talked more in these past couple of weeks than we have for months. I'm still nervous.
But really, I shouldn't be. Things are better between us than they've been in quite a while. The awkwardness we've felt the last couple of months, the strain that existed before that -- it's mostly gone. We've enjoyed a lot of comfortable conversations about nothing -- and everything -- lately, and it's been nice. Really nice. So there's no reason for these unfounded fears that I'm having about tonight. It isn't any different from our lunch 'dates.' And there's no reason to worry about what we'll talk about. We haven't had any trouble with that so far. Probably because we have built-in topic of conversation. I rub my belly absent-mindedly as I wander out to the bedroom having given up on the whole lipstick thing.
"This is silly. It's fine. It'll be fine. Right?" I say out loud as I perch on the edge of the bed. Who am I talking to? The baby? Yes, I'm sure she has an opinion on the matter. "I'm losing my mind." On that note, I lean back against the pillows on the bed and close my eyes for a moment, trying to collect myself.
The next thing I know I'm being shoved out of my stupor by banging on the door. He's here already? He's early. I glance at the clock. No, he's late. Oh, crap. That means I fell asleep. I can just imagine the rumpled clothes, the messed up hair, the nonexistent make-up.
"Abby!" Now he's yelling through the door. He sounds a little .. Panicked. He probably thinks I've developed some rare pregnancy-related condition and passed out cold.
"Hi," I say, yanking open the door with some force. Damn thing still sticks.
"You're okay?" He asks, automatically reaching out his hand to touch the belly lightly.
"Yeah … I just … fell asleep," I say sheepishly.
"Oh, yeah … I can see that."
"Scary?"
"No. Just a little … uh … well …" He messes with my hair for a minute. "There. That's better. It was a little … smooshed."
"That a technical term?" I ask.
"Absolutely. Oh, here. These are for you."
"Chocolate!" I exclaim, way too excited by that fact. But hey, it's the good stuff. Not the Halloween candy that the drug store is selling two for five dollars this week.
"I couldn't decide between candy or flowers. But I couldn't find any good dead flowers, and somehow, I figured something edible might be the way to go these days."
"What tipped you off? My girlish figure?" I turn sideways and run my hand over my stomach, smoothing down my shirt.
"You're getting kinda round there, Abby."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should. You look great."
"Thanks. Of course, you have to say that, don't you?" He just chuckles in response. "Can you tell, yet?"
"When you do that, I can." I guess he's referring to my hands framing my belly. "But otherwise, not really."
"Damn."
"You getting excited to announce it to the world?"
"Not exactly. But I'm afraid that as it is now, I just look fat."
"Never. You really do look great."
"Again … this is a date. So you pretty much have to say that." He just shakes his head at me in amusement or possibly exasperation.
"So are you ready or do you need some time?" He asks.
"Well, let me just …" What? Try on a dozen more outfits, attempt to do my make-up yet again? Screw it. Apparently he doesn't care if I look like a complete mess. "Never mind. Let's just go." I grab my jacket and bag, and we head down the stairs.
"Okay. So … where are we going?"
"What do you mean, 'where are we going?' How should I know?"
"Well, this whole date thing was your idea so I figured you were … you know … organizing it," he says, hopefully.
"No, that's your job."
"How do you figure?"
"Because you came and picked me up."
"So?"
"So you're in charge."
"Abby, I've never been in charge of anything when it comes to you. Why start now?" His eyes twinkle and nudges me in the shoulder with his arm. He thinks he's so cute.
"Okay, fine. We'll pick something together."
"Well since you were sleeping … are you tired? Do you want to stick to something quiet … restful?"
"That was a power nap. I'm good now."
"So what do you feel like doing?"
"Well … let's see. I guess bowling is out thanks to my own little bowling ball."
"You'd have quite a time trying to roll that bowling bowl down the lane." He pokes at the belly, then rubs it lightly for a minute. "Besides … since when do we bowl?"
"First time for everything. And it's a good date kind of thing. But not with the baby on board. I'd be sure to pull something or fall over. Same thing for line dancing. Although I doubt that my power nap would be enough to get me through a night of a dancing, anyway."
"Oh … I'm broken-hearted."
"Yeah, I'll bet."
"Well, there's always the old stand-by," he offers. "Dinner and a movie."
"Oh! Dinner."
"Hungry?"
"Always."
"Okay, food it is." He says. "Where should we go?"
"Oh, don't start that again."
"Well, I thought maybe you'd be having a craving or something. What sounds good?"
"Everything."
"Okay, pizza it is then."
"Pizza?"
"Well, you said everything … pizza has everything. Meat, veggies, cheese …"
"It's warm and gooey and crispy …"
"I take it that's a yes."
"Absolutely. God, now I'm starving. Come on, let's go!" I grab his hand and haul him toward the Jeep.
"Glad to see you're so enthusiastic," he says, opening the door for me.
"Well, there's food involved. I'm always enthusiastic," I tell him.
And true enough, that enthusiasm lasts through dinner. I happily work my way through salad and bread, and my eyes light up when a giant, fully-loaded, deep-dish pizza gets put in front of us.
"I don't know where you're putting it all," he says to me, watching me take my third piece.
"Hey, I'm a growing girl. And so is she." I say, gesturing to my belly.
"Yeah. Our little girl."
"It's still so weird."
"That we're having a girl?"
"Yeah. Or maybe just knowing what we're having."
"It makes it seem more real, huh? I can just picture her so well, now."
"Yeah … I don't know. I thought it would … but I think it's actually made it more surreal. To know she's a girl, but not know what she looks like … what her name is … it's kind weird."
"Well, I can't help you with what she looks like, but the name … we could work on that."
I purposely take a big bite of pizza. I don't think I want to have this conversation yet. I could kick myself for bringing it up.
"You have any ideas about a name?" he asks. I shrug, and shake my head. Give her a name? Just referring to the baby as 'she' is taking some getting used to … I can't imagine calling her by name.
"Because I was thinking … well, I didn't know how you'd feel about it …"
"About what?" I ask, after I swallow my pizza.
"About … naming the baby after my grandmother."
"Millicent?"
"You don't like it."
"Well … it is kinda … old-fashioned."
"It's okay," he says, but I see the disappointment on his face.
"Well …I'll think about it."
"Really?" His face lights up like mine must have when that pizza appeared.
"Maybe it'll grow on me." I kinda doubt it, but I can't bring myself to dash his hopes when he seems so excited. "Of course, Susan would be upset."
"Well, I know she and Gamma had their differences, but --"
"No," I say, with a laugh. "Susan's hoping we'll name the baby after her."
"Oh."
"She's so excited about this baby. Every time I talked to her today, she asked if the baby was kicking yet."
"Is she?"
"Kicking?" He nods. "No, not yet. I think I might have mentioned something like that."
"Good. I wouldn't want to be missing out."
"You won't." I assure him with a smile that he returns.
"How many times did you talk to Susan today?"
"Um … I don't know. Five or six." He gives me a look. "I was nervous," I say by way of explanation.
"Nervous?"
"About this."
"Eating pizza?"
"I didn't even know that I'd be eating pizza. No, just about … our date."
"You were nervous?" I nod. "That's so cute."
"I know you think this whole thing is silly, but I'm serious about it. And I just wanted it to go well. I know that even if tonight had been a disaster, it wouldn't have changed anything. But I was hoping that it would start us off on a good note."
"How symbolic." I give him a dark look. "But I don't think it's silly, Abby. I think it's a good idea." He reaches across the table and takes my hand. "The whole starting over and going back to catch up on what we missed, I think that's great. I don't want you to think I'm not on board with this. I just find it hard to take this whole dating thing as seriously as you are … because it's not really a first date. If it was, we'd be suffering through a lot more awkward silences and asking each other odd questions. Or struggling to make small talk. This feels way too comfortable to be a real first date."
"Well, that's true. I've never had a first date that was this easy. Then again, I've never been out on a first date with a man whose child I'm carrying."
"Yeah … I'd say this is fairly … unique."
"Kinda like us."
He chuckles. "Are you ready to get out of here, or did you want to eat the tablecloth too?"
"That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who's carrying your baby. I'm gonna make you pay for that." I tell him as we make our way out of the restaurant.
"Uh-oh. How do you plan to do that?"
"I want the biggest, butteriest, saltiest tub of popcorn that they have at the movie theater. And candy. I want candy."
"I already gave you candy tonight."
"Yeah, but I left that at home."
"Abby … how can you possibly think about eating popcorn?"
"Haven't we already been over this? Growing baby needs lots of food."
"And what good food it is … pizza, popcorn, candy."
"Hey, there were vegetables on the pizza."
"Oh, well, in that case …"
"Shut up," I say, but I move a little closer to him and he puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk down the street. "You should really stop arguing with me, you know. You're just lucky you haven't made me cry yet."
"Made you cry? Abby, I'm just joking around."
"I know that. But my hormones don't. Everything makes me cry these days."
"Really? How come I haven't seen any evidence of this?"
"I hide it well," I tell him, with a shrug.
"So no sad movies then, huh?" He asks as we arrive at the movie theater that is just a short walk from the pizza place. "So what'll it be? Action, thriller, comedy, romantic comedy?"
"Romantic comedy? What is this? Are you actually offering to go to a chick flick?"
He shrugs. "First date, right? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Impress you with my sensitivity and open-mindedness?"
"Uh-huh," I say with a little eye-roll, turning my attention to the list of movies. We finally settle on some type of action-comedy, get my bucket of popcorn and settle into our seats. The movie turns out to be pretty good. The popcorn is even better. And I only have to get up and pee twice. At some point after I return from my first potty break, Carter reaches over and takes my hand. After I return from the second one, he wraps his arm around me, and I lean toward him, resting my head against his shoulder. We're still in that same position as the movie ends. Of course we have to stay and watch the credits. Carter always says that if you leave 'early' you might miss something. So generally, we're the last people in the theater. Tonight is no exception.
As the screen goes blank and the house lights come up, he extricates himself from me. "Ready?" He asks me as I'm sitting up.
And then I feel it. For the first time.
"Oh my God." I say, my hands moving to my slightly swollen belly.
"What?" Carter asks, trying to fight the empty chair next to him for our coats.
"She's moving." I say quietly, still awestruck by the moment.
"What?" He says again, finally yanking on my jacket and freeing it from the seat that apparently tried to eat it.
"She's kicking!" I say with a little more volume and a lot more excitement. His head whips around so fast I'm afraid he's hurt himself.
"The baby?" He asks, breathlessly but with twinkle in his eye.
"No, my aunt Frannie," I deadpan. And then, giving him a smile, "Yes, the baby. Here, give me your hand." I put his hand on my belly were I felt the first little punch, and we wait.
"Hello in there," I say poking my belly with my other my hand, the one that isn't holding John's over the spot where I felt the movement before. And then I feel another kick, but this time near the spot that I was poking. Coincidence? I don't know, but I quickly move John's hand, under my own, to the new spot. And we wait some more.
"Come on, princess, kick for Daddy," He says, leaning over to talk to the belly.
And she does. Probably just another coincidence, but try telling Carter that. His face breaks into a huge grin as he stares down at the belly.
"She kicked me." He says, in that same awestruck voice I was using a minute ago. "I mean … she kicked for me. And I felt it. Wow."
"Yeah, wow." By now both his hands are on my belly, waiting for more movement. And she doesn't disappoint.
"She's really jumping around in there, huh?"
"I guess she likes popcorn," I say.
He smiles at me and then returns to staring at my stomach. We stay that way for a while. But when people suddenly start filing into the theter, it seems like it's time for us to go.
"We should go," I say nudging him.
"Huh?" When he looks up at me, I realize he's in a whole other place and time.
"The next show is starting, so we need to go."
"Oh, okay." He helps me into my coat and puts on his own in a daze. I stand up and take his hand, figuring I better lead him out or he'll never make it to the door. Once we get outside, the crisp night air seems to help, but he still seems a little out of it, even once we get back to the Jeep.
"Are you gonna be okay, or did you need me to drive?" I ask as we stand inspecting the Jeep, but making no move to get in it.
"Huh? What? Oh." With a sheepish smile, he shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it, I guess. "No, I'm fine. I just can't believe it. She kicked!"
Is still kicking to be precise. Strange how I didn't feel it before and now suddenly I can. I didn't even notice any little flutters. And then suddenly -- wham … there was her foot against the wall of my uterus. Of course, it's her uterus too for the moment … and I guess she's getting to the point where she's outgrowing it. Used to there was way more uterus than baby, but now she's catching up and filling in the space. No wonder she kicking. She probably just wants to stretch her legs. I smile at the image.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Carter asks, catching my smile.
"Yeah. It is." I rest my hands on the little bump under my shirt, feeling the furtive moments within. Carter looks on with envy, since his hands are otherwise occupied for the drive back to my place.
"You wanna come in for a while?" I ask when we get there.
He just nods, but I can see that he's happy that I asked. As soon as we get upstairs and get our coats off, he's dragging me over to the couch. And the minute I sit down, he moves his head toward my belly, wrapping his hands around the bulge there. We stay that way for what seems like a really long time. It's probably just a matter of minutes, but sitting around with someone's head pressed against your stomach is really not as exciting as it sounds.
"You know, I'm starting to feel like you're just using me to get close to the baby," I say, but with a light tone.
"What?" He looks up with concern. Then he manages to tear himself away from my stomach and sit up straight.
"Well, she started kicking. And that was it, you were gone. I've lost you completely to my fat belly."
"It's not fat. And you haven't lost me at all. I was just … you know, bonding."
"Bonding with the baby?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"Well, you know … you're not gonna make a very good first date impression when you spend all your time talking to some other girl, you know."
"Even when the other girl is our daughter? I told you, I was just doing some bonding."
"How about bonding with the mommy," I ask, leaning forward to take his face in my hands and then kiss him. Just a soft, short little kiss.
"I thought you didn't kiss on the first date," he says when we break apart.
I shrug. "I lied. Besides, on most first dates, my baby doesn't start kicking. We can feel our baby kicking. I think that's cause for celebration."
"I can get behind that," he says, leaning in to kiss me again.
This time the kiss becomes much deeper, much more passionate, sparking a flurry of hormones and igniting my desire. His tongue slides along my lips, begging for entrance. I part them slightly and his tongue slips into my mouth, first battling my own tongue and then slipping sensuously over the contours of my mouth. Jesus. Immediately I feel a heat between legs, a hardening of my nipples. This is insane. I don't know how he does this to me every time.
My hands are wrapped around his head, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands are on my back, holding me close to him. As if I would even think of pulling of away. I lean into him and he lays back on the couch, pulling me down on top of him without ever breaking the kiss.
"Abby," he moans when we finally come up for air. He attacks my neck with kisses that are light at first, but get steadily bolder until he's finally sucking at one particularly sensitive spot, causing me to moan and writhe against him. His hand slips under my sweater and tank top to my bare skin. It travels upward, finding a breast and gently kneading it. His touch causes the nipple grow even harder. I arch my back and moan again, not remembering the last time something felt so good.
I move my hand off his shoulders, slipping them down his chest to the waistband of his pants where I free the tail of his shirt and then start unbuttoning it as fast as my fingers can manage. As soon as his shirt is off, he pulls off my sweater. I kick off my shoes and then slip my pants and socks off, leaving me in nothing but a pair of bikinis and a tank top that doesn't quite cover my slightly bulging belly. I reach for his belt buckle and find his hand on my wrist.
"Abby. Don't you want to …"
"What?"
"Go to the bedroom?"
"What's wrong with right here?"
"I don't know … neighbors, windows …"
"You think some pervert across the street has binoculars trained on my windows?"
He shrugs. I look down at him and grin. He's so damn cute. I reach over his head to the lamp that is illuminating the room and switch it off. The room instantly falls dark, lit only by the light coming in from those windows.
"I doubt anyone can see much now. We're in the shadows over here. Happy?"
"Mmm, very," he says in low, throaty voice, reaching up to pull off my tank top.
His head is resting on the couch, and I'm still propped up over him from reaching over to the turn out the light. All of which means that as soon as that tank top comes off, he pretty much has a face full of booby. He doesn't really seem to mind though. His hand slides up my bare back and pulls me closer to him. Close enough that he can reach out capture one of them in his mouth. He suckles gently, his tongue caressing the nipple. I arch my back against him, my leg slipping in between his and moving up slowly up and down, rubbing at a growing bulge. My hand traces patterns on his chest, stopping now and then to lavish special attention to his erect nipples and causing him to arch his back. I roll over on top him, slipping my legs between his so that I can kiss my way down his chest. His hands are wrapped in my hair, and as I move lower, its silky smoothness fans out on his chest. He sighs in appreciation as I kiss around his belly button.
And this time when my hands reach for his belt buckle, he doesn't stop me. I sit up on my knees and unfasten his belt and pants. I scoot further back on the couch so that I can slowly take off each shoe and sock, taking the time to massage each foot.
"Abby …" He sounds a little frustrated.
"What?"
"C'mon."
"You in a hurry?"
"You could say that. If you don't hurry up, I'm gonna explode."
"Oh. Well, Doctor, I didn't realize your pain was that serious," I say, crawling along the couch and moving to straddle his bare stomach.
"You have no idea," he tells me, wrapping his hands around my waist. I lean down to kiss him. While we share a deep kiss, I feel his hands slip off me and hear the distinctive jingling of whatever is in his pants pockets as they fall to the floor. I sit up once again and slip my hand behind my body, happy to discover that his boxers have joined his pants on the floor. I take hold of his stiff shaft and stroke lightly.
"Abby," he moans. I love the sound of my name on his lips when he's in this state. "Please?"
I get up on my knees, and we somehow manage to get my very damp panties removed and tossed to the floor with the rest of our clothing.
His hands are on my hips, gently guiding me into position over his own. I hold his rock-hard penis at the right angle, positioning the tip at my entrance. Then I remove my hand as I let my body slide fully onto his, joining us together.
"Mmm," I moan, my eyes closing as my head tips back in pleasure.
"Good?" he asks, as his hands cup my breasts.
"Oh, God, yes," I say, realizing instantly how much I've missed this.
"Oh … Abby, you feel so good," he tells me as he thrusts up inside of me.
I grind my hips against his and then start a gentle, rocking motion. It takes just seconds for us to synchronize our movements and settle into a good rhythm. His hands move to that same rhythm on my breasts, kneading and rubbing. I run my hands over his pecs and up to his shoulders and then back again, relishing in this closeness with him and the waves of pleasure running through my body. I can tell by his ever-increasing moans and sighs that he's feeling the same way. It doesn't take long for him to increase the speed, intensifying our movements. Soon we are both gasping and panting. Knowing that he won't last much longer, I slide one of my hands over his chest and down his stomach to where I'm gently bouncing on top of him. I move my hand between my own legs, helping myself to catch up with him.
"Oh … yes … oh … Abby … oh … God … oh," he chants steadily. He seems to swell inside me as he pushes harder against me. My fingers move frantically between my legs as I feel him start to quiver. "Abby!" he cries out as, with a strong thrust, his climax hits. The heat of his release is all it takes to push me over the edge. A strangled gasp escapes my lips as my whole body freezes, the waves of pleasure crashing through me. And then, as all my muscles relax, I feel a big grin spread across my face.
I collapse against his body, happy and sated. Immediately his arms wrap around me. We lay there quietly, wrapped around each other. He spots a blanket at the end of the couch and pulls it over us. I snuggle under the blanket, cuddling up against his chest.
"Relaxed?" he asks after a bit.
I chuckle. "Yeah, you could say that." One of my arms is draped across his shoulder, the other is hanging off the side of the couch. "I think it's gonna be a while before I can move."
"That's okay, I'm not complaining."
"Oh God, we are so pathetic."
"Pathetic? I thought it was damn good."
"No, not that."
"So you thought it was damn good, too?"
"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how we have no willpower. We were gonna take it slow, and now two weeks later here we are … naked. It's sad, really."
"Sad? It made me very happy."
"Well, me too. But it's sad how this keeps happening. We can't be alone together in a room for five minutes without all our clothes disappearing."
"So?"
"So, doesn't it bother you that we can't seem to keep our hands off each other?"
"Not really."
"But … I don't want it to be all about sex."
"Abby … it's not. In the past five months we've had sex three times. That used to be your average week for us. Sometimes that was just one day for us. So I hardly think that we're out of control."
"Yeah, but I don't want to use sex to try and make things better."
"We aren't doing that either, Ab. Things have been getting better. We've been talking and spending time together. For the past two weeks, we've been doing just fine keeping the sex out of it."
"Yeah … but now."
"Abby … it's just the natural progression. I mean, I understand your point about making sure that we didn't jump into anything too fast. But these past couple weeks have been great. I think we've managed to reconnect. So this just seems like the next logical step. Especially considering that I've wanted you so badly for so long now that I could hardly stand it. That was the one bad part about this time we spent together these past couple of weeks. You were driving me insane. It was pretty hard to go back to 'platonic.'"
"'Sort of platonic.'"
"Well, to 'not getting carried away,' let's say. But you were right, it was worth it."
"But now that we're … doing it again, I just want to make sure that we won't neglect our friendship this time."
"We won't."
"We have to do more than just argue and have sex. We have to talk, too. And spend time together when we aren't arguing or having sex."
"We will."
"Promise?"
"Yeah, I promise."
We go back to our companionable silence … until we feel something moving in between us. I crane my neck so that I can look up at him, and find him smiling down at me.
"Did you feel that?" I ask.
"Yeah. She's still kicking, huh?"
"I don't think she's gonna stop anytime soon. Although we may have put her to sleep for awhile. Or maybe I just didn't notice."
"Well, you were otherwise occupied." He kisses the top of my head. "Oh hey … there it is again. Wow, that's cool, I can feel her kicking against my stomach."
"Yeah, me too."
He slips his hand down to my belly. I roll over onto my side as best I can in the tight quarters of the couch.
"Hi, princess," he says, patting my belly. "You're kicking Mommy, huh?"
"Oh," I sigh.
"What?" He looks at me. "Mommy?"
"Yeah. That's me."
"You just figuring this out now?"
"I guess."
"Feeling her kicking like this makes it even more real, doesn't it?" he asks, rubbing the bulge. The kicking bulge.
"Well … not exactly. I thought it would. But …"
"What? Abby, what's wrong?" he asks, seeing the tears in the corners of my eyes.
I shrug. "I don't know … I just thought I'd feel more … attached. I mean, hearing the heartbeat, seeing the sonogram, finding out she's a girl, feeling her kick … it's all been really wonderful."
"But? You thought it would different?"
"I guess … I thought I would feel more like a mommy. But it just seems so distant. I can't believe it's me … having this baby. That she'll be mine. It's just all too … unbelievable."
"Believe it, Abby. It's real," he says, looking pointedly at my growing belly.
"I know it's real, it just doesn't feel like it."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Maybe … maybe because I always thought it was something I wouldn't have. I guess it's hard to get used to. And kinda scary."
"Because something could go wrong?"
"Yeah." I sniffle a bit, trying not to cry.
"You never know what's gonna happen, Abby. It took me a long time to figure that out … and to get used to it. But that's just the way it is. And you just have to hope for the best. And usually? Usually things work out. You'll see. I know you're worried about motherhood. And about the baby. But trying to distance yourself isn't going to protect you. Do you think … that maybe that's what going on? Maybe it doesn't feel real because you're trying not to let yourself get attached?"
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"Yeah, I know. But Abby, it doesn't work. I mean, I understand that urge to keep your distance. But no matter how much you try not to care, it just doesn't work. It still hurts when the bad stuff happens. And you've also missed out on all the good stuff that's supposed to make up for the bad stuff."
I can't help but chuckle. "You sound like Maggie," I say, snuggling my head against his shoulder.
"Well, she has her moments."
"And so do you," I say, turning my head to kiss his shoulder.
"You should try talking to the baby. It makes her seem … more like a real person."
"I'd feel silly."
"Why? I talk to the baby all the time, don't I, princess?" He rubs the bulge for emphasis.
"I sure hope Coburn was right about it being a girl. Because if she comes out a boy, and you've been calling him 'princess' all this time …"
"Don't change the subject, Abby. C'mon, just try it."
"What am I supposed to say to her? I don't know how to talk to my belly."
"You're not talking to your belly, you're talking to your baby." I look at him skeptically. "Just talk to her like you would talk to any baby." He takes my hand and moves it down to my belly. "Go on, give it a try. It's easy."
"Uh … okay." I look down at my belly. "Um … hi." He nods encouragingly. "Hi, little one. I'm your … mommy. Abby. But I guess you'll call me 'Mommy.' I don't know what your name is yet. Carter and I … uh, Daddy and I will have to work on that. But don't worry, we'll find just the right name and let you know. Until then, I guess your daddy will just call you 'princess,' huh? I … uh, hope everything's okay in there. I'm glad I can feel you kicking now. It lets me know you're all right. You're kicking a lot now. You must be wide-awake. But … Mommy's getting tired. We've had a long day, huh?" I find myself rubbing and patting the belly as I talk, and I really do feel like I'm talking to her.
"See? It's not so hard."
"No, I guess not," I say with yawn.
"You really are tired, huh?"
"Did you think I'd lie to our baby?"
"Maybe we should get some sleep," he suggests.
"We? Who said you can stay?"
"What do you mean? After I just gave you the best first date of your life?"
"Well, okay, if you put it that way … I guess you can stay."
"Thank you."
"Anytime."
"Abby?" I look up to meet his eyes. "Thank you," he says sincerely, his voice full of emotion.
"You're welcome." I reach my hand up to his cheek and turn his head toward mine so that I can kiss his lips. "And John?" I ask, when we end the kiss, our heads still bent together.
"Yes?"
"Thank you. That really was the best first date I've even been on."