by Emerson Rose
“I can’t wait, baby.”
Ninety-Nine
“I’m bored.” Marcus made sure every nook and cranny of my body was void of dried blood, he washed and conditioned my hair, dried me thoroughly, dressed me robotically and returned me to this boring bed.
“Go to sleep, baby.” He moves around the room putting clothes away and cleaning up after my bath. I’m surprised that he’s putting things away. He usually has Maria do that.
“Where’s Maria?”
“I gave her a few days off, traveling is hard on her.”
“Oh. Wait, what do you mean?”
“She has a little cold. Doctor Lorenzo is seeing to her. Don’t worry, she is fine.” I don’t like the sounds of that, he’s not telling me something, I can feel it.
“Stop, Imani, you’re worrying and there will never be a time when I will be more insistent that you not worry than now. She is fine, she has one of the world's top neurologists looking after her, and it’s just a cold. It’s late, now sleep.” He points at the pillow behind me, and I sigh.
“It’s not late in Italy. It’s only three in the afternoon.”
“Yes, but it is midnight here and you need to sleep.”
“I need my sleeping pills then.”
“Are those safe for the babies?”
“One of them is for sure, the other I don’t know.” He sits on the bed and gently pushes me back into the pillows with his hand over my heart.
“Can you make it with just the one?”
“Of course. I’ll be fine.” I have no idea what made me think I could lie to him. It’s never worked before, and it’s not working now. He raises his eyebrows and looks suspicious.
“Okay, I don’t know, but I’ll try. It’s for them.” I cover my tummy with both hands, and instinctively his slides down over them.
“I cannot have you suffering nightmares. It isn’t good for you or the babies.”
“Well, I have to try. And I’m sure they will be sapping my energy. I’ll be worn out to start with and you will be snuggling with me, and we are home, so that helps.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek, something I’ve never seen him do, and squints his eyes. He’s thinking.
“You have several valid points. Alright, we will try it, but the first time you wake up screaming we are asking the specialist to give you something stronger.”
“Sounds fair to me.”
“Up.” He moves his hand from my tummy to pat my hip. I hold his gaze and lift my hips so he can pull the covers out from under me. He smoothes the blanket over my body to tuck me in, but he stops short when his hands brush against my breasts. His eyes darken and he turns serious.
“This is the worst kind of torture, you know. I’ve always had amazing self-control but I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle this. Now that I’ve bathed you and dressed you as if you were my sister instead of the woman who drops me to my knees with a glance, I’m sure we can do this.” His voice dropped two octaves during his proclamation, and the last few words were delivered in an unconvincing whisper.
“I don’t believe you,” I whisper back and pull him by his shirt down against my chest.
“Please, Imani, don’t.” Please? It turns me on when he’s polite. Everything he does turns me on lately. I roll my head away from him into the pillow and groan, “This is torture.”
His warm minty mouth covers mine and our tongues tangle in a hot forbidden dance. My pulse races and a zing of desire blasts my core. I fight with myself as his kiss deepens, and I let my hands wander under his shirt and slide over every taut muscle on his back.
I can’t. I want to. I shouldn’t. Yes, yes, yes. No! I jerk away. “Stop it, you’re destroying me.”
He shifts down and touches his forehead to my chest. “I’m sorry. You’re right, this is a test we cannot fail.” He moves down hovering over my belly and pulls up the edge of my silk pajama top. He kisses me there once and then after dragging his nose across my skin, and breathing in my scent, he kisses me again.
“We will be strong, for the babies.”
I rub his back and remind him of the comment he made in the hospital today, “We can find creative ways to get around the rules, remember?”
I feel him smile against my skin, “What are you suggesting?”
“Oh, I don’t know… you’re pretty great with your mouth. The doctor said no sex as in penetration, right? I don’t remember hearing anything about oral sex.”
“I believe you are correct, and you have a lovely mouth yourself, baby, but tonight I think we should play it safe and stick to cuddling for a while.”
He’s right, as usual. We should. I don’t want to and neither does he, but like he said, it’s for the babies. “Well, you better get your fine ass in here and start cuddling then.”
“Bossiness comes with pregnancy, too? Great,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Karma’s a bitch.” I open my eyes wide and tease him.
Now I’ve done it, I think I pushed a little too hard with that one. His jaw twitches, and he cocks his head to the side with warning.
“Three.” Shit, at this rate I’ll be in the thousands, hell hundreds of thousands of indiscretions by the time these kids are born.
He made his point and I watch him get ready for bed. He brings me my toothbrush and one of my sleeping pills while he brushes his teeth. When we are settled into bed with the soft lamp glowing at the bedside, I feel two warm kitties hop onto the bed and a groan from Marcus spooning behind me.
“Fur balls,” he says into my hair.
“You love them.”
“I love you and you love them, therefore in a roundabout, fucked-up way I suppose I do love them.” Yes settles in against my belly as if she knows there is something that needs protecting there. No takes a place behind Marcus’s knees.
This is a rare moment of bliss, no tragedy, no illness and no family problems. Shit, family. I have to call my parents tomorrow and tell them the news. How am I going to tell them? How am I going to tell Latoya or anybody for that matter?
“You are worrying. I feel it. What’s the matter now?”
“How are we going to tell my family?”
“I will find a way unless you would like to do it yourself.”
“Uh-uh, I need you for this one, for sure.”
“We can have them over for dinner.”
“When Maria is well?” I ask, and I swear I feel him twitch at the mention of her name.
“Yes, when Maria is well. Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” I close my eyes and imagine twin versions of Marcus and me, maybe one of each? How perfect would that be?
“Imani?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you give me your word that you won’t get out of bed until the doctor says it’s safe?”
“Of course, I’ll follow the rules; I don’t have to like them, though.”
“True, as long as you promise, I’m going to trust you. I really need to get back to work next week, and we have to decide whether or not to have a wedding before or after these two arrive.”
“Before, as in, as soon as possible. I want to have it here in the house. Originally, I thought we would have it in the garden but it won’t be warm enough and we can’t wait for spring. How about the foyer? I can come down the stairs and we can say our vows under the chandelier.”
“I like it.”
“A small ceremony, just family, and close friends with dinner following. If you want a big reception, we can do it after the babies are born.”
“Say that again.”
“Say what,” I ask.
“The last part.”
“After the babies are born?”
“Yes, I love hearing you say that. I am more scared than you can possibly imagine. I cannot believe this is happening, and to me, to us. I don’t deserve any of it. I can’t help thinking it’s all going to go up in smoke and I’ll be left alone to suffer as I rightly should.” He squeezes me tight a
nd nuzzles his face deep into the curve of my neck.
“If anyone deserves a family it’s us. These babies are going to balance out the bad in our lives with good. Wait and see; nothing can take us away from you.”
“I pray you are right.” A quiet blankets the room as the four, or should I say the six of us, take a much-needed timeout from our recent stress for a good night’s sleep.
I don’t usually dream. In fact, I never dream when I sleep because of my meds, but tonight I do. And it isn’t a nightmare it’s a string of recent happenings mixed with bits and pieces of things that make no sense at all.
Marcus and I are on a boat at sea. I am very pregnant and the crazy Smoke Lady from the hospital in Italy is sitting in a deck chair. She is staring at me as I dangle my feet over the edge of the boat with a fishing pole in my hands. Marcus is there somewhere, I can’t see him but I feel his presence. I look back at the Smoke Lady periodically to see what she’s doing, and it’s always the same. Her stare is void and cold. She looks at me as if I weren’t there, right through me and out into the water. A storm kicks up, and dark black smoke begins to billow from the cabin where I believe Marcus to be. I try to get up, but it’s difficult with a rocking boat underneath me and an enormous belly to maneuver. The smell of smoke is so strong I cough and gag when the crazy Smoke Lady appears behind me. She loops her arms under mine to drag me across the deck away from the cabin and the billowing smoke. Then everything changes, the dream feels normal. But I know it’s not. The Smoke Lady and I walk through a corn field, and every time I look back I see Marcus standing there, looking forlorn and alone. But it’s not concerning at the time until we reach the edge of the field and I know somehow that if I step out of the corn I will never see him again.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours this morning?” He scoots closer to me in bed sliding his hand over my thigh under the covers.
“A weird dream that’s all.”
He props up on his elbow and his sleep dazed face clouds with concern, “Dream or nightmare?” he asks.
“Dream. What’s wrong with your mind reading skills?”
“I just woke up, give me a few minutes. Tell me about your dream.”
“It’s nothing, just a bunch of jumbled up bits and pieces that don’t mean a thing.” I smile at him. It’s not a lie, I don’t understand the dream, but it does make me feel unsettled.
“How long have you been sitting there thinking?”
“Not long, maybe half an hour,” my stomach growls loudly and nausea sets up shop. My mouth starts to water warning me that I’ll have a vomit filled morning if I don’t eat something quick.
“My wife and children need breakfast.” I shake my head still bewildered by the sound of the words wife and children. It’s just so mindboggling.
“I need something to be sick in if you don’t want me getting out of bed,” I inform him and like lightning, he snaps into action, bolting to the bathroom and returning with a small trashcan. I grab it just in time to wretch absolutely nothing over and over as Marcus holds my hair and murmurs something about never wanting to be a nurse.
When it’s over, I look at him over the trash can with watery eyes, a runny nose, and probably the worst morning breath imaginable.
“I love you?” he says and shrugs.
“I hope so, this isn’t my finest hour.” He kisses me on the top of my head and disappears into the bathroom.
“Are you going to be needing this again,” he calls out.
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
“I’m going to get you some breakfast. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
“Yeah, like yesterday.”
He scoops me up and delivers me to the bathroom where I am allowed to sit on the toilet to brush my teeth. Then he deposits me back into bed, dresses himself in a pair of extremely well tailored jeans and a tight fitted black t-shirt that strains against his lean, athletic body.
How can he make jeans and a fucking t-shirt look so good? I sit, still in my pajamas with my chin resting on my knees arms wrapped tight around my legs admiring the view, and he catches me.
We exchange knowing smiles. His is a smirk and a wink, and mine is mischievous.
“You’re not allowed to look that good until I can fuck you again, Mr. Castillo.” His surprised look is priceless. He’s all mouth hanging open and wide-eyed.
“You’re going to have to watch that foul mouth of yours in a few months when we have children in the house? I think the hormones are making it worse.”
“I think it’s the sexual frustration and not so much the hormones.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be taking care of you and your needs. This won’t be as bad as you think.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I bury my face in my knees and laugh again.
I hear him pad across the room to me and I feel his hand brushing my hair away from my face. When I raise my head, he is directly in front of me. He reaches out and cradles my face in his hands.
“I love hearing you laugh. It’s music to my ears. I want you to be this happy and carefree every single day of your life.” I lean my face into one of his hands.
“I would love that, too, but I have a feeling there will be more than a few days when you will be hearing me screaming and crying while I try to figure out how to mother two kids at once.”
“I’ll be helping you. I will always be right here next to you, baby.”
“Thank God.” I sigh.
“How about I prove it with breakfast right now?”
“Good idea. I think I’d rather puke food than bile.” He drops his hands and wrinkles his nose.
“On that note, I’ll be in the kitchen. Be good. You have everything, right? Phone, iPad, TV remote?”
“Yes, yes, and yes.”
He points his long finger at me and then at the bed. “You. Stay.”
“I will, now go get me food.”
“Don’t you mean please, get me some food?” Oh, that’s rich coming from him. Mr. I Don’t Have to Use Manners is telling me to say please. I’ve already earned three points of disapproval and I still haven’t figured out his form of retaliation, so I comply.
“Please, bring me food.” He looks smug when he leaves me alone with my nausea and two lazy kittens sleeping peacefully. Lucky little fur balls.
One Hundred
Breakfast helped a lot. I feel so much better after a couple of eggs and a cup of ginger tea. Now if I can just keep it all down until lunch I’ll be doing great.
Marcus brought his work into bed so I wouldn’t be lonely. Laptop, files, papers, and notebooks are all around him on the bed in neat piles.
I am wearing a large baggy off the shoulder cable knit sweater and nothing else. Marcus offered black leggings, but I figured what for? I’m not getting out of bed today.
I only put on the sweater to appease him. He says being dressed will make me feel normal. Ha! I think it’s safe to say normal went out the window months ago.
I’ve been sitting around in hospital rooms and at Marcus’s bedside for so long you would think I’d be used to it, but I’m going stir crazy today with so many things swimming around in my head that need to be done.
And I’m home! I want to visit my family and friends. I want to go to the Seattle glassblowing studio, take a swim, run on the treadmill, go shopping, and make wedding plans and baby plans.
The more I think about getting out of bed, the more anxious I get. I bounce my foot and fidget in my spot trying to get comfortable and eventually it earns me a comment.
“You should read, or online shop,” Marcus says without raising his eyes from the screen of his laptop.
“I hate being in bed.” I’m whining again but I can’t help it.
“Now that simply is not true, you love being in bed with me.”
I roll my eyes, “Yeah, when we are naked and sweaty, going at it like animals. Not fully dressed and working.” He chuckles and hands me a file.
“Here, you can work on wedd
ing plans and I will get you naked later, deal?” Now that idea is downright appealing. I may be stuck here in bed, but I can still get a lot of things done with a computer and a phone.
“Deal,” I accept his offer and the file, curious on both accounts. I open the file and there are invoices for flowers that have been ordered, rental chairs and tables, glass wear, even a menu. It doesn’t look like he left anything for me to do.
“You’ve been a busy bee, haven’t you? Were you planning on letting me make any of the decisions about our wedding?”
“Of course, you can cancel or change anything you don’t like, and I haven’t had time to look into music or entertainment, yet. You also need a gown and dresses for your bridesmaids. Who are you going to have stand up with you?”
Wow, he has been giving this a lot of thought. I shuffle through the papers, looking at the dates of the orders and wonder when our wedding day is going to be.
This is a side of Marcus I haven’t seen yet. He is hyper-organized and efficient and it’s making me feel a little inadequate.
“I hadn’t thought about it, I guess. I mean it should be my sister but I feel like Elena should be my maid of honor, too.”
“Ask both of them, I’m going to have your brother-in-law, Enrique, Elijah and Black, so pick two more. Oh, and how about your niece and nephew for ring bearer and flower girl?”
“Sure.” I close the folder and push it back toward him on the bed feeling unneeded. Maybe I should just let him handle the whole thing.
He closes his laptop and stacks his work neatly on top of it. He places it on his night table and crawls across the ridiculously big bed where he settles himself behind me, circling my body with his legs.
He gathers my heavy hair and moves it over one shoulder. A shiver races across my skin when he nibbles on my neck and cups my sensitive breast in his hand.
“I like to plan things. I like to be in control, but I don’t want you to feel left out. So, if that is what you are thinking, and I know that it is, don’t worry. There will be a million details to share, I promise. I did, however, choose a date. I had to so things could be reserved. How does March 12th sound to you?”