Chapter Eleven
They had begun a game. Riley would sit on the floor, just outside the nursery and point out imaginary spots on the wall that Shane had missed, and count how it took him to chase her downstairs. In turn, whenever Riley complained about anything pregnancy related Shane would declare that it was 'the miracle of life' and she would throw something at him. Riley was now six months pregnant and said that her bump appeared overnight. Shane would watch her stand in front of the mirror, pull up her top and try and pull it down differently in a vain attempt to hide her stomach. Even thought the scan had the hospital had changed things, the main break through for them came one afternoon just after lunch. The dishwasher was broken so they had taken the job of washer and dryer. Shane being the washer. They where talking about something that had been on the news that morning when Riley suddenly put the plate she was drying down and rolled her eyes.
"For god's sake." she muttered.
"What?" "The baby's kicking." The look Shane gave her said 'isn't that a good thing', and Riley read it.
"It doesn't it non-stop." "Ah, the miracle of life." Shane said.
Riley rolled her eyes. "Here! Feel!" She pulled his hand out of the sink and pressed it down over her stomach so Shane could feel the baby's repeated kicks.
"Wow." he breathed.
"Wow? Not wow! Not all the time. I swear this child will grow up to be a kick boxer, I can see it." Even after a few minutes had elapsed, Riley still hadn't moved his hand, in fact she seemed perfectly comfortable and content to just stand there like that all day. When Shane did go back to the washing up, he had left a big wet hand mark on the front of her top. Riley simply went back to drying the plates and resumed their earlier conversation like nothing had happened. But it had, and that was what mattered.
They watched a movie that night, as was their routine. Some stupid straight-to-video trash with Jean Claude Van Damme. He hadn't even noticed Riley had fallen asleep until he felt her head resting against his shoulder. It was strange how she had changed so quickly. Shane never thought that she would warm to having the baby, or to him. He still found it hard to conjure images of Riley changing diapers or pushing a buggy or of them being an actual family. This marriage thing had felt temporary for the first few months, but Riley and him would be together forever. They may not have chosen to be and there probably wouldn't be any more kids, but for the next eighteen years they where together. Him, Riley and the baby. It was still a strange thought and even stranger still, could he actually love her?
They had begun a game. Riley would sit on the floor, just outside the nursery and point out imaginary spots on the wall that Shane had missed, and count how it took him to chase her downstairs. In turn, whenever Riley complained about anything pregnancy related Shane would declare that it was 'the miracle of life' and she would throw something at him. Riley was now six months pregnant and said that her bump appeared overnight. Shane would watch her stand in front of the mirror, pull up her top and try and pull it down differently in a vain attempt to hide her stomach. Even thought the scan had the hospital had changed things, the main break through for them came one afternoon just after lunch. The dishwasher was broken so they had taken the job of washer and dryer. Shane being the washer. They where talking about something that had been on the news that morning when Riley suddenly put the plate she was drying down and rolled her eyes.
"For god's sake." she muttered.
"What?" "The baby's kicking." The look Shane gave her said 'isn't that a good thing', and Riley read it.
"It doesn't it non-stop." "Ah, the miracle of life." Shane said.
Riley rolled her eyes. "Here! Feel!" She pulled his hand out of the sink and pressed it down over her stomach so Shane could feel the baby's repeated kicks.
"Wow." he breathed.
"Wow? Not wow! Not all the time. I swear this child will grow up to be a kick boxer, I can see it." Even after a few minutes had elapsed, Riley still hadn't moved his hand, in fact she seemed perfectly comfortable and content to just stand there like that all day. When Shane did go back to the washing up, he had left a big wet hand mark on the front of her top. Riley simply went back to drying the plates and resumed their earlier conversation like nothing had happened. But it had, and that was what mattered.
They watched a movie that night, as was their routine. Some stupid straight-to-video trash with Jean Claude Van Damme. He hadn't even noticed Riley had fallen asleep until he felt her head resting against his shoulder. It was strange how she had changed so quickly. Shane never thought that she would warm to having the baby, or to him. He still found it hard to conjure images of Riley changing diapers or pushing a buggy or of them being an actual family. This marriage thing had felt temporary for the first few months, but Riley and him would be together forever. They may not have chosen to be and there probably wouldn't be any more kids, but for the next eighteen years they where together. Him, Riley and the baby. It was still a strange thought and even stranger still, could he actually love her?