by Bella Grant
“Help me,” she said, and I realized she was trying to stand.
“Oh,” I replied and rushed to her aid. I caught her back and tried to give her a boost. She weighed what felt like a ton, and I grimaced as I hoisted her to her feet. The smile returned to my face before she saw me. “Where to?”
“I want to take a shower. This heat is getting to me. I’ve been sweating like a pig.”
I walked next to her as she continuously bumped into me as she rocked. She had only about a month left, and it was beginning to take its toll on her. She was moody, cranky, and argumentative, but the OBGYN told me that was all a part of the process.
She was barely inside the bathroom when her dress fell to the floor like she had some form of telekinesis I didn’t know about. She turned sideways, and I saw the outline of her belly, the perfect arch, and the ripple that followed.
“Was that her again?” I was excited every time her stomach moved, and I wanted to capture every moment. And why not? Each time felt like the first time. I talked with my daughter sometimes, and I believe she listened because she often got still and kicked like she understood. Anna chased me away when she got too excited and started romping in her belly, when her stomach transformed into a roiling tide of movement.
“Oh no,” she warned when she saw me coming. “Can you do your thing when I’m laying down? I don’t have the energy right when I’m standing.”
“Oh…I see,” I teased and bit my lower lip as I moved closer to her. “No energy, you said?”
“No, no, no,” she cried when she saw what was in my eyes. “Oh, Raymond…what am I going to do with you?”
I groaned against her throat because even though she was ‘complaining,’ she leaned her head sideways to give me access. “Love me,” I whispered, and bit her neck. “Fuck me!”
“Do you know how hard that will be like this?” she mumbled, gesturing to her large belly.
“Nope. But I can always make it easier,” I said provocatively, and my kisses moved from her neck to her hot lips and down the length of her body. I paused to circle her nipples with my tongue before following the pink line down the center of her belly. I was on my knees, and I held her hips and leaned my head sideways as I kissed her underbelly and her inner thighs, slowly and gently, until she started to tremble.
I wanted to taste all of her. She willingly parted her legs, ready for what she knew was coming next. I sat on the floor and scooted between her legs until I was looking up at her pink lips burning with need. I grabbed her ass and buried my face in her juice running down to her clit. She moaned and grabbed the top of my head, squeezing me further into her. My tongue darted in and out of her, tasting the salty sweet taste of her body. I couldn’t get enough of her, even after so many months, and the more I got of her, the more I wanted.
She vibrated in my mouth and I drank her in. She slapped her hands on the walls and grasped desperately for something to steady herself. She panted, her breathing shorter each time.
“Oh, God, Raymond,” she moaned. “I’m coming!”
The words had barely escaped when she filled my mouth with her cum. I stuck my tongue inside and spooned the rest into my mouth, wanting to receive every drop of her. She tried to push my head away as she trembled fervently, but I gripped her ass and sucked on her clit until it pulsated.
I stood and kissed her, hard and passionately. She grabbed my face and pressed against me as her tongue searched for mine and the playful dance continued.
I didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t realize it at first. I heard her moaning, and she became still. I was half-asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness because she was so restless. I felt a sudden movement and the bed jerked. My eyes fluttered open and I saw her sitting upright, a look of panic on her face. I awakened fully and threw the covers off.
“What is it?” She didn’t answer but looked down like she saw something I couldn’t on the bed. “Anna!”
“The baby,” she muttered. “I think she’s coming.”
She panted, and my heart raced. I jumped out of bed and ran around to her side. I took her hand and helped her gingerly off the bed. She doubled over in pain as the first of her contractions racked her body. I needed help.
“Wait here,” I told her and skittered out of the room and down the stairs, where I found Marian, who had taken over Grace’s role of dusting the furniture. “Marian, Anna is going into labor,” I blurted.
The feather duster fell from her hand, and she immediately followed me upstairs. We found Anna white-faced and clinging to the bed post. She seemed frightened of moving, and it took some coaxing to get her mobile. It took us twice the amount of time it would normally take to get to the car, and I was glad she had the foresight to pack her bag beforehand.
She clutched my hand, and I grimaced as her nails dug into my palm. I tried to soothe her, but it was no use. Marian tried to get her to remember how to breathe—Lamaze classes didn’t seem to have adequately prepared her for this moment. By the time we got to the hospital, she was sweating and jittery. I was no better, and I couldn’t recall the last time I was this afraid.
I was nervous as shit as I paced the hospital floor, waiting for news from the doctor. Anna didn’t want me there while she had the baby, and I was glad. I’m not sure I could have watched her giving birth. I might have passed out. Maybe the next time.
I didn’t know what to do with myself as I watched the clock. Time seemed to be at a standstill, because every time I checked, the hands hadn’t moved. I sat. I stood. I walked. I went for coffee. I tried to read the newspaper, but I couldn’t process anything on the page. Several nurses and other visitors saw what a nervous wreck I was. Some passed and asked about my distress was, while others smiled and nodded knowingly. I was at a hospital and in the maternity ward. There could only be one possible explanation for my unease.
Every time the doors opened, my chest tightened, my mouth dried, and my breathing stopped. And each time it was an orderly or a call for someone else, my heart sank. I was sweating and not in control of any emotion or thought that ran up and down my body. I would never have guessed that waiting for a baby to be born could have produced this much adrenaline. I could have run a marathon a lot easier.
When the door opened again, my back was turned. I didn’t want to see which other lucky person would experience relief as my heart tightened.
“Mr. Jameson?”
I froze for a second, then wheeled around, my eyes frightened and my mind racing. “Yes,” I managed to answer.
The doctor, who looked way too young to have just delivered a baby—bright eyes, ponytail, dimples, and very petite—walked towards me, a welcome smile on her face.
“How would you like to meet your daughter?”
My heart started beating again.
I never tired of watching her roll around her crib, or suck her toes, or wriggle around as she tried to get to a toy. She was beautiful, already the splitting image of her mother—reddish hair, brown eyes, and a face that knocked me dead every time.
“Do you think she’ll want to run the company when she is older?” I asked out loud as Anna walked into the room.
It was time to nurse Abigail, fondly called Abby, and she scooped her into her arms, the gurgles and babbles coming from her signaling she knew what was coming.
“Raymond, she’s only six months old,” she said as she sat and slipped her nipple into Abby’s mouth. It warmed me inside when I watched how her tiny fingers balled into fists and pressed against her mother’s full breast bursting with milk. After Abby was fully settled, Anna gazed over at me. “She might want to. She might not want to. Who knows? She might actually be a fashion designer.”
I laughed at her suggestion. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Besides, we already have one of those,” I reminded her. “The boutique opens in another few weeks.”
“You have no idea how excited I am. I have so many ideas swirling around in my head—the colors I’ll use. By the way, what do you thin
k about a fashion show? I could show off my designs and…” I started laughing, and she stopped talking and knitted her brows at me. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” I told her. “You always get so animated when you talk about your designs.”
“Well, yeah.” She glowed. “I never thought I’d have the chance to do any of this. And now…” Her eyes glistened as she prepared to cry.
“Shh…” I hushed her, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her. “I got you.”
She rocked into me as Abby opened her eyes and looked at me. Her cheeks stilled as she paused in her sucking, and for a few moments, I was lost in her baby-browns. The nipple slipped from her mouth, which remained open, and a mesmerized look crossed her face. Then her mouth twitched and she gurgled, like she wanted to say something, and a smile broke out on her face. I was entranced by her, and I reached out and took the hand she waved in the air. She clasped her tiny fingers around mine but remembered her milk, and the moment vanished as she resumed sucking. But it stuck with me, and for the first time in my life, I understood love.
My phone vibrated and the spell was broken. It was Jon, my lawyer. I scratched my head and crept backwards as Anna got preoccupied with Abby.
“Hey,” I whispered and pulled the door closed behind me as I stepped into the hallway. “Did you get it done?”
“It’s all yours,” Jon confirmed.
“Thank you,” I breathed appreciatively.
“So, how do you think she’ll react?” Jon asked.
I looked at the door. “Good, I hope.”
“Well, congratulations. And good luck. You’re going to need it.”
“Thanks, man.”
I stood outside the door with good news on my lips, anxious about how Anna would receive it. I had done something without her knowledge, and she wasn’t too keen on surprises. Especially not like this. But I had to tell her. I touched the door and it opened. She was putting Abby back in the crib, and she glanced over and smiled. I signaled her over when I saw that Abby was sleeping. She fixed her dress hurriedly and hurried to me. I took her hand and we went into the hallway.
“Who was that?” she asked with a curious expression on her face.
That was Anna. Always the intuitive one. I wondered how much more she would have accomplished if she had gotten the opportunity.
“That was Jon calling me with some good news.” I beamed.
“Oh, great. I could use some of that.” She must have seen when my face changed, and I cringed like someone hit me when I thought of what would come next. “So why do you look like that?”
I took her hand and started walking. “Remember that shelter you were living in?”
“Baby, you know I don’t like talking about that,” she replied softly. “I mean, it’s not that I’m ashamed of my past, but it brings back bad memories.”
“I know, I know. But tell me, what exactly made it bad?” I was working my way up to the good news, but it only ticked her off.
“I thought you said you had good news.” She stopped walking and looked at me almost angrily.
“I do, but humor me.”
She sighed. “What was there to like? We hardly had any food. We only wore clothes other people donated when they didn’t want them anymore. Not to mention medicine. It was a disaster to get sick. Look at my mother. And Teresa. This is the best they have been in ages. Teresa doesn’t have the cough anymore. Mom isn’t sick or as stressed.”
“I know.” I chuckled. “I remember what it was like…the smell when I went there the first time…the sunken eyes of the coughing children…”
“Raymond, what is this about?”
I could tell she was irritated, so I decided to get to the point. “Just hear me out. I mentioned that because I can see how hard it would be living in a place like that.” She sighed. “Which is why I spoke with my lawyer and I’ve bought the place.”
Her eyes widened and she gazed at me through teary eyes. “What?” she choked. “Are you…what are you going to do with it? Where will the people go?”
She’d misunderstood me. “No, they will be there. Well, after I’ve renovated the building. I figured life would be a little more bearable if they had better facilities, medicine, adequate food—” I was halfway through my list of necessities when she charged into me and flung her arms around my neck. “Whoa!” I laughed and held her just above her hip bones. She was crying again. “And, to top it off,” I continued, my neck getting soggy from fresh tears, “I’ve renamed the building the Anna Ramsey Home.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “You did what? You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do any of it.”
“But I could. And I knew—well, I hoped it would make you happy.”
“Of course it does,” she said as she wiped her hand across her eyes. “Why wouldn’t it? Wow! A building named after me.”
“So you don’t mind? That was tentative because I didn’t know how you would react.”
“Well, I like the idea.” She smiled. “I would change one thing, though. I don’t want my former life to be a stain on the front of the building, especially for the people who knew me. I would prefer The Jameson Building.”
“Hmm, The Jameson Building,” I echoed, trying to get a feel of it in my mouth. “Not bad.”
“Yeah. It’s our building,” she replied jovially. Her spirit had lightened, and it made me happy seeing her delight.
“Still, your name on the title, as soon as you sign,” I told her. I wanted her to be in charge of the day-to-day running of the shelter. She would know exactly what the occupants needed, and I wanted her to know this was hers.
She blushed and brushed her hair back. “Thanks, honey.”
Her smile was all the reward necessary. I chuckled, and the next thing I knew she pressed against me and kissed me tenderly, lovingly, and appreciatively. She gripped my ass, and I knew she wanted to fuck. It excited me, and I grabbed her hand and started for our bedroom. We were at the door and I could feel the cold metal of the doorknob in my hand when I heard a clip-clopping sound coming up the stairs.
We paused and I looked at Anna. “Let’s go,” she urged. “It’s probably Grace, or Teresa wearing my shoes again.”
But I didn’t move. Somehow, maybe subconsciously, I recognized that pattern of walking, and my heart sank when I realized who it belonged to. In that instant, my mother’s head appeared at the end of the hallway. She stopped abruptly when she saw the two of us standing at the door. Waiting.
“Oh,” she said, and pressed one palm against her chest. “I didn’t think I’d find you here. Grace said… I thought you were… I didn’t know you were up here,” she said finally and clutched her throat like the words weren’t her own.
“Yes. We are here,” I answered curtly. Anna’s hand tightened around my fingers, displaying her nervousness. We hadn’t seen her since Anna fell and before Abby was born. She must have felt guilty, because she didn’t call me anymore. Or she really meant what she had said—not wanting anything to do with me and the unwelcome wife I had chosen.
My mother sighed and moved quickly towards us. “Anna, I’m sorry.” The words tumbled from her mouth, and my jaw dropped. I’d never heard the woman apologize.
Anna looked from her to me, and then back to her, but no words came from her lips. She walked closer and took her hand, totally oblivious to the fact that she was fuck-blocking me now. That alone was increasing my impatience, but I remained still.
“I didn’t mean what I said, about not wanting anything to do with you or my grandchild. I was a stupid old woman who said some dumb things.” Then she looked from a pale, surprised Anna to me, who was just as stunned. “Raymond, could you ever forgive me? It took me an entire year to work up the courage to come here. But I had to see you, my only son, and my grandbaby. Where is she? I heard it was a girl.”
The more she spoke, the more upset I got. How dare she come in here and spill a few choice words and assume that would be enough to placate
me? “She’s sleeping,” I told her flatly. “I don’t think you should go near her.”
Her face contorted and she looked ready to fall apart. “Why not?”
“Look what happened the last time you were here,” I thundered. “If Anna hadn’t been lucky, she could have lost the baby. Now what would—”
Abby started crying, and three pairs of eyes looked to the nursery.
“Please, let me see her,” my mother begged.
I had to admit, it was nice watching her play this role. And that was just it—I wasn’t sure if she was serious or if she was playing me and had more insults up her sleeve. More trash talk.
“No!” I replied harshly.
Anna scurried to the nursery to get the crying baby, and my mother and I stood outside—her looking longingly at the nursery, and I standing watch to make sure she didn’t go inside.
Anna came out with Abby in her arms, no longer fussy but alert as if she hadn’t just gone to sleep. I watched in awe as my mother’s face transformed into someone I had never met. She didn’t move, so Anna walked to her and stood before her with Abby. The infant looked at the unfamiliar face and a smile crossed her face. Her fist went into her mouth as she tried to suck on it.
“Here,” Anna told her.
My mother looked at the woman she had fought against and her eyes filled with tears. Being around teary women was no place for a man because I was fighting tears as well. I walked around them as I tried to distract myself, hoping to retain my masculinity.
“Really?” she asked as she took the playful Abby.
“Family will always be family, even if they don’t get along. Mine live here with me, and you are a part of that now. So, meet Abigail Jameson, your granddaughter.”
Anna handed her the child and stepped back. I stopped pacing as I watched the greatest display of love and forgiveness I had ever seen. In that moment, I was absolutely sure I had made the right choice in going after Anna. I slipped my arm around her waist as she leaned into me.