Chapter 32 – Homecoming
Six weeks later
Returning home to Wayne Manor was a bizarre experience for Bruce. You could say it was a classic case of waiting for something so long, that it felt strangely unfulfilling when it finally happened. But that wasn't quite accurate. It was more the feeling of being a stranger in your own home.
Knowing his way around the floor plan, recalling which drawer held the scissors, even knowing which tile was starting to come loose on the bathroom backsplash… Bruce knew it all as if he'd never left. Yet as he walked down those familiar corridors, it still didn't seem real. Almost as if he were a ghost haunting the halls, floating around without anything grounding him there anymore.
Selina and Alfred accompanied him around each turn, like chaperones guiding a museum guest. Dr. Filger had cautioned them about sudden anxiety attacks that might occur during Bruce's homecoming. Being back in an environment so full of triggers could cause a rapid cascade of memory. So they followed one step behind him, ever vigilant for signs of psychological distress.
All seemed to go well until they reached the nursery. The steady, even pace they'd been enjoying came to an abrupt halt. Selina planted herself next to him, sliding her arm through his.
"Do you like it?" she asked.
As his throat was much too tight to speak, he simply nodded.
Alfred stepped forward as well. "It's all ready, sir. I've even stocked three sizes of diapers."
It was impeccable. The two halves of the room were mirror images, perfectly arranged. Bruce wouldn't be surprised if Alfred had measured everything down to an eighth of an inch. Two cribs, two changing tables, two plush rockers with ottomans. Two sets of custom-painted animals on opposite walls. The scene was worthy of a spread in a Pottery Barn Kids catalog.
In ironic contrast, the Batcave's apex was directly below this spot, dark and brooding as ever. Bruce had planned on stopping by the cavern next, but any desire to do so had suddenly vanished.
"Thank you," Bruce murmured to Alfred. He felt a stabbing angst for not having contributed to the room, yet knew his talents didn't exactly lie in decorating with pastels. He'd have relied on Alfred either way.
Still, the whole scene wracked his nerves, underscoring his poor preparation for the twins so far. It had been easy to distance himself from the situation while he was hospitalized. Focusing on his own rehabilitation was a valid distraction, and the medical setting was so far removed from any domestic paradigm. It gave him a limited, false sense of security, convincing him that everything would be fine as long as he completed each PT session satisfactorily.
The predictability of the hospital was gone now, stripped away in the blink of an eye. In its place was the stark reality of parental responsibility looming on the horizon. Though it threatened to overwhelm, one clear realization steadied his mind: he'd have to pour courage into an entirely new corner of his heart.
Bruce swallowed, turning to face Selina. "I… I want us to take a weekend away, together."
"Oh?"
"Clark and Lois suggested that we have a 'babymoon.'"
"That's a lovely idea," Selina squeezed his arm. "What did you have in mind?"
"The cottage on Little Delaware Lake. We could go in two weeks, after I'm settled in here."
"Sounds fine to me," she smiled, relieved that he was handling this better than expected. "And… since we're talking about you settling in, I was wondering about something else."
"What?"
"Do you feel up to attending the Fall Police Gala next weekend?" she asked with a hopeful smile.
"You really want to go to that?" he asked skeptically. "Even though you're… well, you know…"
"Even though I'm what? Huge? Is that what you were going to say?"
"No, it's just… you've mentioned your feet and back have been aching lately. You're sure you want to stand around at some boring gala for two or three hours?"
"Bruce, I haven't had an excuse to dress up since our wedding. And it'll probably be a while before I get the chance again. So trust me, I'll fight through the pain," she met his eyes decisively.
"All right," he relented, knowing better than to argue.
"Good. And there's one more thing."
Bruce stared at her with bated breath.
"I've invited my parents here for an early Thanksgiving in a few weeks," she winked at Alfred. "And before you ask, Alfred's completely on board."
As boring fundraisers go, the annual Fall Police Gala was probably the most enjoyable. Bruce had attended since its inception eight years ago, and he was always (naturally) the most generous benefactor present. An appropriate arrangement, since the operating costs for the Bat Signal were no small part of the police budget.
Tonight's gala would surpass all those previous. Not only was Bruce Wayne making his first public appearance since his coma, he was doing so with a heavily pregnant wife on his arm. The media was going to explode.
Exploding was also what Selina feared would happen to the first dress she tried on that evening. Alfred had done his best to alter one of her favorite gowns, but there was only so much he could do with the fabric. Through the bathroom door, Bruce heard sounds of a struggle as Selina cursed under her breath.
"Everything okay in there?" he tapped on the door.
"Oh, fine. Just fine," she called out sarcastically. "Give me another hour, and I might be ready to go."
Worried she may actually take that long if he didn't intervene, Bruce opened the door a crack. "I'm willing to help."
"No!" she waved him back. "Don't come in here!"
He could see her reflection in the sink-to-ceiling mirror. She was in her bra and panties, her full stomach exposed. It was the first time he'd actually seen her belly uncovered. It shouldn't have surprised him, yet somehow the sight of it made his pulse erratic. As he watched, utterly enthralled, he saw a small lump roll across the top – a roaming baby foot.
"Did you hear me?" Selina began pushing the door shut.
"Okay," Bruce stepped back in a daze. Sitting at the foot of the bed, he lost track of all time until Selina emerged a while later, dressed in an ivory satin gown.
"Well?" she held up her hands, petitioning his feedback.
"You look great."
"I look like a cumulonimbus cloud," she disparaged. "But this is the only one that fits. I popped two seams trying to get the black one on."
Barely hearing her complaints, Bruce walked over, placing both hands on the smooth curvature of her belly. Within seconds, he was rewarded with a flurry of hands and feet tumbling beneath his palms. Even though he'd felt it several times over the past two months, it felt no less electrifying now.
"You're beautiful," he said, almost to himself.
Selina smiled ruefully. "Thanks. Tell me that later when everyone's photographing me, like I'm a giant beached whale for the cover of National Geographic."
Bruce hesitated. "Have you changed your mind about going tonight?"
Sighing, she grabbed her shoulder wrap off the bed. "No… I'll regret it more if I don't go."
"After you then," Bruce placed an affectionate hand on the small of her back. As they slowly descended the stairs, holding up Selina's gown from tripping her, she suddenly began to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, just glad I've been used to not being Catwoman for a while. I'd have been forced to quit by now anyway," she chuckled, amused that stairs posed a threat to her these days. How different her life was from just one year ago. Which was nothing, of course, compared to the changes ahead.
