"Be a girl with a mind, a woman with an attitude and a lady with class."
Maxon lay down next to America in their bed, stretching his body out next to hers. He brushed her hair back away from her face and kissed the exposed skin on her shoulder. She was wearing one of his undershirts, he noticed and the thought made him grin as she sighed and shifted so that she was closer to him. Her eyes fluttered open and surprise registered there as she saw her husband.
"You're back," she mumbled, stretching her arms out.
She did that every morning and every morning he'd have to duck his head to keep her from punching him in the face. "I know I'm a little early. I hope that's okay. If not, I can always go back for a couple more days," he offered.
"Don't you dare. Three weeks is too long," she told him, sitting up and drawing his face to hers to kiss him. She pulled away and looked at the clock on her nightstand and sighed. "I should probably be getting up. We're having the Italians here for a couple days next week and I want to make sure everything is perfect."
He nodded. "Do you mind if I stay in here and sleep for a couple hours? I'm afraid I didn't sleep much on the plane," he explained, lying back down on his pillows.
"Sure." She stood and stretched again, the shirt barely covering her bottom, much to Maxon's pleasure. As if she knew what he was thinking, she wiggled her hips a little bit, making him groan and laugh and bury his face in his pillow. "I live to torture you!" she taunted, walking to her closet to get dressed.
Maxon met her for dinner later that day, spending most of his day in his study away from her. He felt like a man dying of thirst in the middle of an ocean. He kissed her as he sat down at the table on her left, looking down to the other end of the table where Mr. Singer sat, talking amicably to James. Kenna was bouncing Astra in her lap as she ate her dinner. Seeing Kenna so happy with her daughter made Maxon crave another child ten times as much as he had been.
Christian started showing Maxon all of his coloring pages he'd completed that day, smiling proudly at his father. "Daddy, cousin Gerad said that I'm already better than him!" he exclaimed in excitement.
Maxon laughed and glanced over at America, who seemed to be chewing her food slowly and with extra care. May was telling her a story but she didn't seem to be really interested. He'd have to ask her what was wrong later, knowing that she would never tell him in front of her family. "It does seem you have strong Singer blood running in your veins! Has Grandpa taught you piano yet?"
"No! He says I'm too little!" He pouted.
"Well," Maxon started, leaning close to him like he was sharing a secret, "maybe sometime next week when Mommy leaves us by ourselves to have fun with her friends, I'll teach you how to play guitar. How's that sound?" He looked over at America but she didn't seem to notice his playful jab. He was starting to get really concerned.
Christian's eyes lit up. "Yay yay yay yay yay yay!" he repeated, bouncing up and down in his seat.
"Christian, don't jump like that at the table," America snapped at him quietly. "Sit nice and still, like Daddy and Mommy, see?"
"Ames, he's just excited. And he's two; he's allowed to misbehave at the dinner table," Maxon argued, rolling his eyes at her sudden will to be uptight about table manners. She met his eyes with a cold gaze. He sighed patiently, starting to worry that maybe he'd done something wrong. Was it her birthday? There was no way. He'd been gone for three weeks. What could he have possibly done to upset her?
She cleared her throat, touching her napkin to her mouth before setting it down on her plate in front of her. "I'm going to retire early," she announced as she rose from her seat. "I'll see you all in the morning." Her voice was pleasant and civil but not natural.
It was all Maxon could do not to follow her but as soon as Christian showed any sign of apathy for dinner he took his son upstairs. "Hey buddy, can you do me a favor?" Maxon asked, kneeling in front of his heir in the toddler's bedroom.
"What Daddy?" Christian asked in an innocent voice.
"You wanna draw Mommy a picture? Maybe a big blue flower? She likes those and I'm sure she'd be really proud of your talent," he told him.
Christian frowned and played with one of the ears on his stuffed dog. "But Daddy, Mommy was mad at me tonight."
Maxon shook his head. "Mommy just isn't feeling well, okay? She was mad at me too. But if you draw her this picture, I bet she'll be really happy and will never be mad at you again."
He seemed to think about it for a minute. "Can you help?" he finally asked in a small voice. "Mommy loves both of us, right? So maybe if we both do it, she'll be even more happy and won't be mad at both of us!"
Maxon smiled at his son's grammar mistake and nodded. "You know Daddy isn't much of an artist but I think that is a wonderful idea. Now, can you give me a kiss goodnight before Lady Danford gets you ready for bed?" he asked, nodding to the new nanny that had just walked in with Christian's pajamas.
Christian gave him the smallest cheek on Maxon's cheek and then ran off to meet Lady Danford. Maxon sighed and walked to the door connecting the room to his bedroom, pausing to compose himself before facing his wife. He finally walked in, treading cautiously. When America was in a mood, something as pointless as heavy footfalls could set her off. "America?" he called.
The door to their bathroom was open so he poked his head in, seeing his wife up to her shoulders in bubbles in the large tub. Normally he'd join her but he was not sure if her waspy mood had worn off yet. He perched on the edge on the tub, listening to the orchestral music she had playing in the background. "Is this Tchaikovsky?" he asked.
"Schubert," she said in a terse voice.
He could have sworn it was Tchaikovsky but at the same time he should have known that it was Schubert; Schubert was her favorite composer. Now he was off to a bad start. "Listen, Ames, I was just talking to Christian. He is under the impression that you're mad at him."
She rolled her eyes and then closed them again. "Maxon I know our son well enough to know that he was only talking about me because you brought it up."
"Yes, that is true but I wasn't talking to him about you in that sense. It was something else…" he trailed off, not wanting to give his son's surprise away. "Anyway, I wanted to apologize to you."
"For what?" she asked, her eyes still closed.
"For whatever I did to upset you."
She laughed and sat up. "You've been home for twelve hours. What could you have possibly done in that time to upset me?"
He frowned. "That's what I was wondering."
"You haven't done anything. Why would you think that?" She reached for one of his hands and started playing with his wedding band with her wet fingers.
He sighed, knowing that he was probably on dangerous ground with calling out her emotions. "You just seemed so distant tonight at dinner and I don't know…maybe a little waspy."
"Oh," she said, pulling away from him and immediately looking away. "Yeah, I guess I should've known that you'd catch on." He waited for an explanation. She sighed and looked up at him and said, "My period is just a couple days late. That's all. I'm concerned and stressed but I'm sure I'll get it soon."
He frowned. "So you're concerned because you think you're pregnant?" he asked slowly.
"More or less. I mean, now just isn't optimal time for a baby."
"How so?" he asked suddenly, cutting her off. "You keep saying that but I don't see it. Our country is thriving once again and pretty much everything is ready for the big change…I see now as the perfect time for a baby. What better way to get everyone excited and supportive of us?"
She looked down and studied her fingers meticulously. "I'm just…I guess I'm making excuses to cover up what I'm really thinking when it comes to another baby."
"Which is what?" he asked. She didn't answer so he leaned closer, putting a hand behind her head. "Hey, you know you can tell me whatever is bothering you. You don't need to make excuses with me."
She looked up at him with tears in her gray eyes. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I don't want a repeat of last time," she finally admitted.
He had never thought of that. "Ames, the chances of that happening again are slim. We both know that. Ames, I ask for very little of you and this is something I really want…"
"I know that. And I'm worrying about this when I may not even be pregnant," she said, nodding.
He nodded in agreement and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Wait, when did we have sex unprotected?" he asked, drawing back. He racked his mind to remember but he couldn't recall a time.
She coughed and blushed. "Remember the day we went riding? You were very pleased with my riding outfit. Although I can't wear it anymore due to the grass stains."
He laughed at the memory. "Right, I remember now." He looked at her through squinted eyes. "I'm not complaining."
"Of course not," she scoffed. She looked up at him and asked, "So you want another baby?"
"I really want another baby," he told her honestly.
She smiled and reached up to cup a hand around his face, the other hand resting on his knee. "Come what may," she whispered.
That phrase had become their thing and it made him smile. "Come what may."
and that's it for today! hopefully the two chapters made up for me not updating this past week!