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During the first week of Ororo's bed rest Remy watched over her like a hawk. She already felt like a prisoner not being able to go about her usual daily life but he made it seem like she was an invalid as well. If she even stirred he was up on his feet to do whatever she needed. It was all so frustrating but she thought it would only annoy her more if she fought it.
But the added presence of Logan just added to her aggravation. It was nothing against Logan. Ororo felt insulted that Remy thought she needed to be babysat. Remy only told her he had business to do. No, it wasn't a job. He swore he was done with that and it wasn't retaliation. Ororo made him promise he wouldn't seek vengeance and Remy was a man of his word. He would never lie to his love. He just insisted that she trust him on this and she would trust her husband with all her heart.
Logan never really said much to Ororo though he politely answered any questions she asked. They were all standards inquiries however, only consisting on if he was hungry or wanted something to drink. He just didn't feel comfortable around her. He figured she was a walking jumble of hormonally imbalanced mood swings. And her smell… She smelled like vanilla and sandalwood and well… Pregnancy. However pregnant women are supposed to smell like. Maybe it was paranoia but he could have sworn he heard a faint, speedy, tiny heartbeat. It was moments like this where he cursed his acute senses. It was now his conversationless seventh day keeping watch over Ororo when she felt she could withstand his silence no longer.
She sat a dinner plate in front of him. "What's this?" he asked with a cocked bushy eyebrow. "Grilled chicken and tagliatelle al pesto?" she announced. The words rolled off her tongue as if she was a native Italian speaker. "Sorry but I don't eat anything I can't spell," he grumbled. "Please Logan. I don't like having dinner alone," she said while unintentionally batting never ending lashes. Logan sighed internally. Gumbo never stood a chance against this one.
Logan begrudgingly shoved a fork into the food. He stuck it into his mouth. Damn that kid. She can cook too. He complimented her on her cooking abilities then the two fell into a sharp uncomfortable silence. His anxiety for the past seven days had not gone unnoticed by Ororo. "Logan, are you always this tense?" she inquired after swallowing a piece of chicken. He simply shook his head. "Then is it something I've said or done?" Concern was clear in her voice though she couldn't think of a way she may have offended. Perhaps it was because of his one time intimate acquaintance with her best friend, Jean. "It ain't anything like that. It's… Well you're pregnant," he responded sheepishly while nearly gawking at her belly. "What of it?" she shrugged. "It's just… I don't wanna be the only one here alone witcha when ya pop," he admitted. She chuckled lightly, "I have six more weeks until I am due to go into labor. I assure you my friend you have nothing to worry about."
They finished their dinner in a comfortable quite. "Do you know what Remy is out doing?" she questioned as she cleared their plates. "No saying," he fibbed. It was a half-truth. He knew what Remy was doing but he would not say. She waddled back over from the kitchen with a bottle of Abita Lite in hand. "Err, I don't think you can drink that darlin'." "It's not for me. It's for you," she stated as she handed him the chilled bottle, one from Remy's personal stash. He began to wonder if this was her way of buttering him up to get information out of him.
"Ya know, 'Ro, I can call you that right?"
Ororo smiled kindly and nodded, understanding that her name could be considered hard to enunciate to some.
"Cajun… Remy, I've known him for a long time now. I never seen him before like how he has been lately…. The kid really cares fer ya," Logan said sincerely between sips.
Ororo could only grin softly. "And I care for him more and more with each passing day."
Logan's head snapped to the direction of the front door. Ororo watched him in curiosity, still unaware of what his mutation was exactly. Remy then strolled through the door. "Beloved," Ororo gleefully sang out as she hugged him. Logan felt both disgusted by their affectionate display as well as a tinge of sorrow. He's always preferred to stick to himself and kept a small circle of associates. But a man could only find solace in lonesomeness for so long. Things with Jean, well that was a one-night situation. They had nothing in common but sex. Perhaps he'd give Yukio, a girl he met at the bar during Mardi Gras a call.
The following day was just as it were the days before. Remy doted over her until Logan arrived, this time with take out. "Yer suppose to be on bed rest. 'Sides thought I'd pay you back for dinner last night," he supplied while taking out fried chicken, biscuits and cole slaw. Ororo was moved by his consideration. "Thank you, Logan but this isn't repaying. This is simply sharing dinner with a friend," she replied with a warm smile, her jewel eyes shinning with thanks.
She was in the midst of her second drumstick when she noticed something missing from above the television in the living room. Remy's Saints banner is gone. Where could it be?
They had just finished eating when Remy bounced through the door in undeniable excitement. "Put on ya shoes cheri. Remy got a surprise ta show ya!" he beamed. She barely slipped into her flats before he nearly drug her out of the door. Instead of his two-seat sports car a sleek brand new sable Lexus LX was parked in their driveway. "Oh," she sighed in awe at how the automobile gleamed. "Wanna go fo' a ride, belle?" She answered wordlessly by slightly clumsily sliding into the passenger seat. The ride consisted of her admiring the interior of the car; the heated leather seats, the mahogany trim, her turning up the volume of her Lauryn Hill radio Pandora station. Remy watched out the corner of his eyes with a smile tugging on the corner of his lips as she sang along, her voice feather light and airy.
Unsure of what the balance held
I touched my belly overwhelmed
By what I had been chosen to perform
But then an angel came one day
Told me to kneel down and pray
For unto me a man child would be born
Woe this crazy circumstance
I knew his life deserved a chance
But everybody told me to be smart
Look at your career they said,
"Lauryn, baby use your head"
But instead I chose to use my heart
Now the joy of my world is in Zion
Now the joy of my world is in Zion
How beautiful if nothing more
Than to wait at Zion's door
I've never been in love like this before
Now let me pray to keep you from
The perils that will surely come
See life for you my prince has just begun
And I thank you for choosing me
To come through unto life to be
A beautiful reflection of his grace
For I know that a gift so great
Is only one God could create
And I'm reminded every time I see your face
That the joy of my world is in Zion
Now the joy of my world is in Zion
Now the joy of my world is in Zion
Now the joy of my world is in Zion
Marching, marching, marching to Zion
Marching, marching
Marching, marching, marching to Zion
Beautiful, beautiful Zion
Ororo's lips closed once she noticed they entered a neighborhood. It was unlike theirs, which was a standard middle class area. This wasn't necessarily one of wealth but by no means where these standard working family homes. She decided it was upper middle class. They began to pull into an immaculate, well-manicured house. "Whose house is this?" she pondered aloud. A wily grin emerged upon his handsome face. "It's ours amour. Dis be our new home," he replied boastfully as he helped her out of their new SUV and lead her to the house.
The tile in the foyer leading to the living room was made of costume Italian marble. They entered the living room and Ororo was stunned. It was already furnished in camel colored suede and decorated in toffee and opal accents. The Saints banner sat proudly over the 72-inch flat screen television. Though they never lived in it previously it felt like home. "Figured ya would wan' a sofa ya could get outta," he joked. Ororo turned to him with narrowed eyes and said, "You didn't decorated this." "Non, Remy jus' said wha' he wan'ed an' da profess'nal did da res'," he confessed then added as he showed her up the stairs to a bedroom, forgoing the tour of the kitchen and dinning room, "But dere one thin' Remy looked ovah every detail of."
They stopped before a plain bedroom door near the master suite. Ororo pushed it open and stepped in. Instantly her mouth fell agape with no words to be said as she took her surroundings in. Her eyes automatically caught on a mural of Monet's Water Lilies, an exact replica of the print she had hanging in her childhood bedroom. The painting covered the entire surface with beautiful soft shades of pinks, blues, marine greens, purples and pearls. The remaining walls were lavender with white stencils of lilies, tulips, dandelions, daffodils, tuberoses and orchids etched throughout. A small dresser and matching crib of handcrafted from cherry wood sat against the wall. The bedding of the crib was a shade lighter than the paint on the wall beside it. A mobile of dainty various feminine colored flowers hung over it. Her silence made Remy anxious. " I 'member seein' dat paintin' and dem sketches o' flowers in ya room when we went ta ya pere's. An' ya bed was ligh' purple. I thought maybe our bebe could have a room like her mama," he nervously explained. "…Do ya like it petit?"
She turned to face her husband with tears streaming down her face. Merde, she don' like it. Knew I shoulda jus' had 'em put some Winnie da Pooh shit on dere. Ororo embraced him in a hug so strong he almost questioned if her mutation developed super strength. "It's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done. Thank you, my love. Thank you so much," she said with the utmost appreciation then encircled her tightly with her arms. Remy adored the feeling of the swell of her belly between them as they embraced. "Avec plaisir mon amour," he whispered into her satin silvery mane, "Jus' wanna fresh start. Thought dis would be a good beginnin'."
After settling into their new home Remy mostly stayed by her side, not that either of them minded. They enjoyed the lazy days of playing card games, movie marathons, ordering take out, and scanning through baby names books. Finding one they both agreed on and felt would compliment their bun in the oven was much more challenging than they would have guessed. However Ororo was grateful for the few days she was able to leave the house when she and Jean bought bags upon bags of baby items. Between the shopping and the baby shower the girls at the office threw for her she soon realized Auntie Jeanie would be spoiling her little one absolutely rotten.
Remy and Ororo began going to a three-week new parents class twice a week Dr. McCoy recommended before. They quickly learned how inexperienced they were though they caught on fast although Remy felt changing a diaper was much more intricate than he first perceived. After eight attempts he now had it down to a science.
Two days passed with Ororo experiencing contractions but they were too sparse to check in to the hospital. Dr. McCoy guaranteed that this was typical and with four days until her expected due date not to worry. Just wish I could get this over with. She massaged cocoa butter onto her enormous belly. Still no stretch marks. Thank you Shea.
Ororo threaded her way down the stairs, heading to the expensive kitchen while Remy made omelet, deciding to have breakfast for dinner. Did they need six burners? No, but Remy alternated on their uses. He had just slid the omelets onto plates when he heard a painful yelp. He found Ororo a few feet away clutching the marble countertop. He rushed over her and nearly slipped on the damp floor. "Did ya spill somethin' Stormy?" he asked, puzzled by the wet substance. With an anguished expression distorting her beautiful, delicate features she shook her head. In a quivering voice she responded, "My water broke."