by M R Field
“Very. Just a little tired though.”
“Okay.” He kisses my temple again and says quietly to everyone in the room, “Just going to take Farfalla upstairs for a rest. We’ll be back soon.” I give a half-wave as Robbie leads me up the stairs.
“This feels weird.” I lower my voice so only he can hear as we cross the carpet. “Like, we find out we’re pregnant and then we tell them, and then they smile and hug us. I don’t get it.”
He leads me into his room, before he closes the door behind us.
“What’s not to get?” he asks, pulling my hand towards his bed. “Did you expect them to kick us out?”
“Absolutely.” I kick my shoes off and pull his covers back to crawl under them. “I really think that reaction is too surreal. Hope it’s the same when I wake up.”
Robbie kicks his shoes off and climbs in after me. “Aren’t you going to go and spend time with them?” I yawn.
“I will.” He brushes the hair from my face. “Nonna didn’t seem herself; I need to suss that out.”
“Yeah.” I lean into him. “I think her hip has taken its toll a bit. Hopefully, she’ll recover soon.” He squeezes my shoulder but doesn’t answer. My finger draws a circle over his chest as I listen to his heartbeat. “Did you want to go and talk to her now?”
He shifts slightly and clears his throat. “I’ll go soon. I’m not liking what I am seeing with her, but I’m glad she was over the moon about us. I’ll wait until you’re asleep. Don’t be surprised when you wake up; the house will be full of relatives. They won’t mention our baby, but Mamma will be wanting to show off her little boy bringing home a gurlfreend”
“Your mamma does not speak like that.” I chuckle.
“Bet she has all her pots and pans out.”
“Good. I love her cooking anyway.”
“You know she introduced Alex as the boy who took too long to get to Trice.”
“I wonder what they will introduce me as?”
“The redhead. Anyway, first the party, then we need to get organised. When we get back home, we need to see a doctor.” He leans forward to kiss my nose. I shift my body to get closer, moving my hands higher across his chest. He sighs as I run my fingers up and down, enjoying the feel of his warm skin.
“Yes. Vitamins.”
“I need to buy you some vitamins or some shit.”
“Okay.” Didn’t I just say that?
“You’re my top priority now with gumnut.” My brow wrinkles at the nickname.
“Gumnut?” I chuckle, wrapping my arms around him to snuggle against his hard chest.
“Pea?” He kisses my hair. “Blimp?”
“Bubbles?” I add.
“We’ll keep brainstorming until we think of something else for little one.” He continues to stroke my hair, my eyes growing heaver by the second.
“I like little one,” I mumble against his chest. “I love you, Tesoro.”
“I love you, Farfalla.” His fingers continue to weave through the top of my hair, “I love you, little one.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t worry,” he whispers into my hair, “the wedding will come, it’s just been postponed.”
I smile, too tired to roll my eyes at him as the sensation of his fingertips lull me into a deep and contented sleep.
We spent the early afternoon relaxing with Robbie’s parents, all while he kept an eye on his Nonna. There was something strange going on, but no one had mentioned anything.
“So, this is it?” Robbie asks, kicking stones across the asphalt.
“Yep. This is where I got taught how to sing.”
Great-aunt Cynthia’s white picket fence came into view as we shuffled towards it. Seeing that house made my chest ache. If I closed my eyes for a moment, I could picture her standing there, waiting for me to arrive after school. She would castrate you though if you called her Great-aunt. A lady never reveals her true age, apparently. As a teenager, some days I wished she were my real mother.
“Child, shoulders back and back straight. You are with me now; forget about the outside,” she’d say to ease the ache I often felt. I remember her fingers lingering over the keys as I waited for the steady drum of my heart to slow. Memories of the many songs we sang together filled my ears and heart just by standing on the footpath. The smile across my aunt’s lips, her naturally elegant pose of one arm on her hip and the other in the air, all beautiful memories encapsulating a charisma that was born for the stage. A charisma that attached itself to me, one I used to strive for. God, I miss her.
“It’s a cute house,” Robbie observes, looking at the white picket fence.
“It was my home.” I rub my stomach lightly and watch my fingers gently stroking across my flat belly. “You will know all about her, especially how cheeky she was,” I tell our little one.
“He’ll know, Hazel. Thea is part of who you are now. So our child will want a piece of that.”
I nod, blinking away the tears that form in my eyes. “She died just before I left for the UK. I barely had a chance to stop by here. My mum donated everything in that house, except what was left to us in her will. All those memories gone.” My voice cracks.
“You can tell me all your memories.” Robbie squeezes my hand. “And we’ll make new ones that won’t be thrown away into the fuckin’ dust.”
“Sounds perfect. We’ll also tell little one about your Nonno, too. We can’t forget him.”
I look to the house that was my real home to me when I was younger. I hold the memories it brought to me close to my chest. As I turn, I swear I hear the tinkle of piano keys, but I shake my head, glad to have farewelled this place my way.
“Wild Horses.”
The Rolling Stones
ROBBIE
Seven weeks later
My knee bounces as I sit in the waiting room, surrounded by swollen bellies and a whole bunch of magazines and books about babies and how they come out. A few weeks ago, we were here seeing if our baby had a heartbeat, and now we are going to see our bub. Fuck me. Of course, I was the supreme dumb arse, thinking that once my super sperm got up there and won the race then that would be it. Nope. Now, something called fear had started to keep me awake at night. All sorts of stupid shit started tumbling through my head, and I had fuck all chance of slowing it down.
Would our baby have a heartbeat? Would bubs be growing in the right spot? Is it growing properly? Is Hazel eating the right foods?
My thoughts had gone into nuclear overdrive, questioning every little thing we were doing. I was washing and rewashing vegetables, making sure everything that Hazel had was fresh and healthy. I made sure that she didn’t eat anything that wasn’t freshly prepared and I had even stopped initiating having sex with her. I was too freaking worried that I’d hurt the bub. The books said she had to be careful, and she was carrying our little one.
Did she appreciate my efforts? Not a chance. I was told to calm down at least twenty times a day. Plus, my little vixen was exactly that—a vixen. Horny, frustrated and ready to slap me on the head with a phone book if I didn’t hurry up and fuck her.
Hazel borrowed a few baby books (that helped drive my obsession) from the library and I tried to casually read them, until I saw the week-by-week growth. Now, I couldn’t stop picturing what our baby was doing in there, and being thirty-two weeks away from meeting our bubba meant that by the day after Hazel had returned from the doc’s, I was already driving her insane.
“You know it grows ears at week eight but doesn’t hear until week sixteen ….”
“You might feel kicking, like butterfly kicks between weeks sixteen and nineteen …”
Apparently, ‘it’s cute’ for the first two times, but now it’s ‘annoying.’
I’ve been trying to get her to tell her folks about her pregnancy, but she flatly refuses. “I will tell them when they give me a courteous call, otherwise they can find out once I’ve delivered our bub.” There was no swaying Farfalla.
I rub my ches
t and wince, knocking the skin where the swollen piercing is. We had gotten them done after our trip home as Hazel was adamant about getting her nose pierced, and while her cute diamante stud shone on the left side of her nose, my left nipple piercing was red as a motherfucker.
“I told you to put that spray on it,” Hazel whispers beside me, flicking through one of those too-much-information magazines. “It’ll get worst if you keep rubbing it. It’s lucky I didn’t get mine done, otherwise who knows which way the milk will go.” She chuckles.
“It itches,” I groan, trying not to look too obvious.
“How do you think it feels when our regrowth comes back?”
My nose scrunches as I try to consider the last time her legs were fuzzy.
“Your legs aren’t …”
“Not my legs.” She gives me a knowing grin. Oh fuck. I cross my ankle over my knee to try and knock some sense out of my cock. C’mon dude, help a man out here. We’re meant to be a team. Ugh. Now, I can’t stop thinking about her bare pussy. I shift uncomfortably, as Hazel chuckles quietly beside me.
“You’re going to pay for that,” I warn, shifting again.
“Oh, I can’t wait.” She brushes her hair behind her ear, the soft waves falling over her shoulder, and I want to wrap them around my hand while she sucks my—
“Miss Winters?” Our obstetrician calls from the door. Hazel nods and grabs her bag before standing out of the seat. I follow quickly, hoping like hell these jeans don’t look tight.
In a short time, Hazel’s belly has the goo on it and we are staring at our little one on a small screen, and in that moment, time stands still—but it doesn’t. Nope, while we sit here transfixed, our little one won’t stop moving. Arms flail, legs twitch, and that heartbeat is enough to make me pound my chest and roar.
“Well, if we go by the measures and the information you’ve told us, I’d say we are looking around the 18th of November,” the doctor says.
My shocked eyes crash into his. That’s just a few weeks after Hazel’s birthday.
“Really?” I’m dumbfounded. I look at Hazel and her eyes brim with tears as she stares at the screen, her face lit up with the most radiant smile. I am a fuckin’ lucky man.
“It all looks great. I’ll print out some images for you to take, and I’ll see you in four weeks.” He clicks a few buttons on his screen and then moves back to Hazel, wiping her stomach clean. Hazel sits up and I hold her elbow, knowing that I’m overreacting but after seeing what she’s growing, I’m not going to take any risks.
“Um Doc,” she quietly says, getting his attention. He looks at her and smiles. “I …” she stammers, and clears her throat. “Was wondering when it would be safe for Robbie and I … to, um … you know … do it again?”
His eyebrows raise in recognition of her point, and he glances over to me.
“Farfalla …” I rub her arm. “It’s no big deal, I can wait until the baby is here. It’s okay.”
“It’s safe now,” he interjects. “She isn’t high-risk so there’s no issue.”
My arm freezes on Hazel and I gawk over at him. “Serious? I’m not hurting the baby?”
“Nope, not at all. In fact, the baby is very well protected.” He nods his head and just before he exits, he says, “Besides, how do you think babies get dimples in their chin?”
He leaves us in his room. I throw my head back and laugh along with Hazel as she winks at me. She leans down and grabs her bag from the chair and we exit the room in silence, but the tension is thick in the air.
Stepping out into the cool air, my heated skin is relieved for a moment, but my mind is too busy being torn in two different directions. Baby versus getting Hazel naked and under me as soon as possible. Hazel tightens the belt of her coat and snuggles her arm around my back as I wrap my arm around her shoulder. We stand there by the door, smiling down at each other like two goofy people.
“Did you see how quickly he moves?” She grins up at me.
“Yeah, she moves fuckin’ fast. I think it’s a girl.” In my other hand, I have a strip of pictures and we both take a moment, squinting our eyes down at the black and white fuzz. Hazel gently takes the pictures from me, and folds them underneath each other until the top one is the only one seen.
“Get your phone out.” Her chin tilts to my pocket. I reach in and grab it, ready to take a photo of the image, but she shakes her head. “Not that type of photo.” She lifts the pictures up. “This one! Selfie!”
We hold the picture underneath our chins like a happy family. I raise my phone up and begin taking photos, listening to Hazel’s chuckle as I continue to click away. I turn the screen to face us, I open the photo album and we laugh our arses off at the huge cheesy grins we have. Hazel’s eyes are even greener than normal, and I hope like fuck our kid has them. If it’s a girl and she looks anything like her mother, I’m going to have to learn how to shoot.
“Let’s forward it to the guys and your folks.” She giggles. “I want to see what they say back to us.”
Her phone chimes and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. As she reaches into her bag, she mutters, “Bet it’s Trinity; she’s been hassling me all morning about when we were going. Remind me next time to wait to tell her after the appointment.”
She taps on her message and her smile dulls as her eyes narrow. Oh for fuck’s sake, of all the fuckin’ times to message us … My other hand begins to tighten around my phone but Hazel’s expression changes. Her smile begins to make a return and it’s a knockout.
“Check this out.” She holds out her phone and I glance down to see, chuckling at her nickname for him;
Jerry the jerk: I need to see u. I’m sick of these games. When are u going to wake up & realise that we were meant 2 b? Our lives were perfect before u left me
Her fingers frantically type across the keyboard as her smile continues to dominate her face. She smirks, holding her phone for me to see.
Hazel- If nothing else gives you a hint to leave us alone, perhaps this will.
And she attaches the photo of the three of us followed by another message saying:
We are having a baby. Now leave us alone.
Shortly after her phone beeps as his reply is sent through.
Jerry the jerk- You sure it’s his?
Her jaw locks as her lips purse in fury.
“You bastard,” she says through clenched teeth as her fingers aggressively type out another text.
“Ignore him, Farfalla. He’s a dickhead. Time for a new number though.”
“No, I refuse to let him wear me down. If I get a new number, someone stupid in my family will probably give it to him. I’m not going to be weak.”
“But you don’t talk to them,” Robbie points out.
“True, but … I just can’t be bothered.”
“I’m not sure about this. He knows where we live, plus, I don’t like not knowing what he will do next.”
“He’ll eventually get sick of me.” She taps the photo on her phone and smiles. “He has no reason to try anymore. No one is taking away our sparkle.”
“Sparkle?” I can’t help but grin at her.
“Our little one is a star in my eyes,” she reasons as she finishes her message. Her fingers thump against the keys as she sends it, her chest heaving from the annoyance.
Hazel- It’s Robbie’s. Don’t think for a moment that it could ever be yours. I didn’t realise how bad you were at counting, considering that you and I hadn’t had sex for well over six months before I came out here. You may return home now; you aren’t needed.
Jerry the jerk- Whore.
“Nice,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Okay, I don’t want to pity the wasted time I spent with that jerk. It’s our day to spend together before everyone comes over for your BBQ. But you won’t get your present until tomorrow when it’s your real birthday.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Don’t remind me.”
“Hey!” she exclaims. “Nothing wrong with turning another day older.”
>
See, that’s the thing right there. I don’t care much for birthdays, but surprises, they do my fuckin’ head in. I am a stubborn prick who doesn’t like to wait.
“I’m sure I can coerce it out of you,” I tease, running a finger down her face. She shivers as her eyes darken even more.
“Yes, I’m sure you can, but right now I prefer to not get turned on whilst holding pictures of our future child in my hand.”
Good point. Instant dick diffuser.
“Right, let’s go to that cafe around the corner and celebrate. The hot chocolate is on me!”
“Why thank you, kind sir.” Hazel flutters her eyelashes at me, and I tap her nose with my finger.
“Being cute will still make these jeans tight.”
She shakes her head and mutters, “Insatiable. But that’s okay—after this, you can be as satiable as you like.”
I definitely agree with her plan. The cafe turns out to be the best place for me to I treat my woman to the finest of hot chocolates, all the while checking that their milk was in date and their chocolate was the best quality, ignoring the gorgeous redhead holding onto my arm, shaking her head at me.
That evening, the usual guys are around for a cook-up as I prepare my mamma’s famous lasagna. There was no way that I was ordering takeaway, not knowing what was in the foods. Trice and Alex gave me shit for a solid half hour as I checked under the foil to see the béchamel sauce cooking nicely. The aroma of mozzarella and parmesan made me feel at home in the kitchen whilst the laughter of Trice and Alex made our house seem more like a home. Seeing as it was a Tuesday night, it was easy to have people over since the club was closed, plus I wanted to spend tomorrow relaxing with my sister, Alex and Hazel. I’d been pulling long hours, sorting out club needs even when the doors were closed. So, tonight and tomorrow, I was going to take it easy and recharge the batteries.
“Hey guys,” Theo calls as he enters the front door. He holds up a bottle of red and walks over to us. “Happy birthday, man.”