I Made You My First

by Threadgoode, Ciara

  “Jurnee, sista, you’re as big as a house, girl.” I felt the smile slide right off my face. Irish smacked him hard on the shoulder and looked at me with an apologetic smile.

  “Come and give me some love, girl,” he chuckled and he almost danced himself into my arms. His hug was energetic as he squeezed me while also patting my back with both hands. I looked over his shoulder at Irish with big eyes and a frozen smile. He finally released me and both of his hands found their way to my bulging belly.

  “So I hear you’re naming one of them after me, right?” Hayden’s face turned suddenly serious. I felt my eyebrows push together and my eyes flash from his face to Irish’s.

  “Um, well...” was all I could think to say.

  “He’s joking, Jurnee,” Irish commented.

  “I know,” and when I looked back at Hayden, he was smiling too. Hayden’s the jokester, I thought. Of all the other alternatives, that wasn’t such a bad one. Irish and I had decided early on to pick “J” names for our children and it was merely a coincidence that I’d picked Jayden. I hoped he’d find some satisfaction in my choice. I left the men to catch up while I checked on Jewel. She must’ve just awakened because she was lying there quietly smiling, staring at her mobile. I quickly changed her diaper and cuddled her little body to my chest, kissing her fragrant head as I went back out to her daddy. Irish, still talking to Hayden, held out his arms wide when he saw me coming toward him.

  His smile was a big grin as he cuddled his daughter and quickly turned the conversation to Jewel. I smiled, shaking my head at the proud papa bear, almost feeling sorry for Hayden and went to warm a bottle. We ended up ordering pizza and once Jewel was tucked into bed, we all settled in the living room to listen to Hayden’s Colorado adventures. At nine o’clock, he announced that he wanted to check out a few local bars and he tried his best to talk Irish into joining him.

  “No, I don’t want to leave Jurnee here alone. I’m done with all that, bro. I have no interest in the bar scene,” he said while I was pouring myself some juice in the kitchen.

  “Then she can come too,” Hayden said.

  “What about Jewel? We can’t leave the baby and party all night; my life’s different now. You go.” And then I heard silence.

  “Well can I take Jurnee with me?”

  Not a second passed before Irish said, “Not in this lifetime, Hayden.” I think a sofa pillow might have been thrown.

  When I returned to the living room, Hayden was standing. “Jurnee, I know Irish won’t lend me his car, or should I say, his other woman,” and he gave me a quirky smirk. “Can I borrow yours? I promise I won’t drive if I’m wasted.” I quickly looked at Irish. He rolled his eyes, giving me nothing to grab onto.

  “Sure, if you promise not to lose it, all of Jewel’s things are in the trunk,” I said as I grabbed the keys from my purse. Irish followed him to the door. I headed for the bedroom. I was feeling unusually amorous and I looked forward to spending some quality time with Irish.

  As I was brushing my teeth, I felt Irish grab my waist with his both his hands. “Do you want to watch a movie or go to bed?” he whispered.

  I spit out toothpaste and rinsed before answering, “I have another idea” and I grabbed his arm, pulling him to the bed. “I bought some cocoa butter today,” and I kissed him on the cheek.

  “Okay, what’s it for?” he asked, curious about where this conversation might lead.

  “It helps with stretch marks. I know I’m going to have them no matter what I do but I thought maybe you could rub it on me anyway?” I said licking my bottom lip and then sucking it, doing my best to tease him. His face suddenly brightened with understanding.

  I pulled the jar out of my nightstand and set it on our bed. I pulled my dress off. Irish reached up and from behind unhooked my bra. I slid out of my panties and turned standing completely naked, facing him. Giving me the once-over with his eyes, he reached for my hand and gently guided me onto the bed, and I rolled over on my back.

  “Look at the instructions, babe,” I said, handing him the jar. “I think it says you have to be naked before you can apply it,” I smiled. I watched him quickly undress and I felt my body quiver and goose bumps appear at the sight of his naked body. I watched as he dipped two fingers into the jar and slathered some just above my belly button.

  “It’s cold!” Jumping, I squealed grabbing the covers with both hands and trying to lie still.

  With a sympathetic look he whispered, “I’m so sorry, love.” It quickly warmed up under his hand as he gently rubbed it into my skin. He put one hand at the top of my stomach and another at the bottom, slowly moving them both clockwise. It felt wonderful. He dipped his fingers in the jar again and cupped his palms together to warm up the lotion in his hands. Now rubbing it into my sides, going in slow circles with his fingers spread wide, we both felt a hard kick. My eyes flew to his. We froze and then smiled at each other. This was the first time that Irish had felt a kick and his face was full of excitement.

  “I believe they really like it,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He bent down and gently kissed the spot where the baby’s foot had been. This time the kick was more pronounced.

  “Jurnee, I saw it. I just saw a foot,” and his face glowed in total amazement.

  I looked down and waited for it to happen again. “Come on, little ones,” I encouraged.

  This time the outline was faint, but it looked more like a fist. Irish touched my belly, gently rubbing me and hoping the movement hadn’t ended. Leaving one hand on my side he took his index finger and started tracing short patterns on my belly, short little lines, and quick circles.

  “What are you doing?” I asked lying quietly, unable to be serious.

  “Writing a note to our babies,” he said with twinkling eyes and beautiful smile.

  I took a deep breath and lay back closing my eyes, trying to feel the letters he was tracing on my belly.

  D-a-d-d-y l-o-v-e-s y-o-u. “Daddy loves mommy, too,” he whispered. After kissing my belly again he eased all of his weight onto the bed next to me. When I opened my eyes, his face was inches from mine and for some reason his smell was especially enticing. I felt his long finger slowly circle my enlarged nipple as it quickly hardened under his touch. I lifted my head to find his lips and I felt his hardness as he leaned closer to me. I was bubbling with anticipation. After a gentle kiss he pulled back, looking into my eyes. “Jurnee, are you sure we should do this? I mean after...” And he stopped and analyzed my face. I quickly nodded, trying to reassure him that it was fine but he continued. “What if I hurt one of them, Jurnee?” and from his expression, I could tell this was all going terribly wrong. I shook my head no, more in disbelief than anything else.

  Suddenly, his smile turned mischievous.

  “Love, I’m hungry.”

  I lifted my head up and looked at him confused. “What?”

  “We can do other things, remember?”

  I turned myself away from him to roll onto my side. It must have looked pathetic, but I was given no other choice. I scooted myself off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Irish lay still and watched as I closed the door. I grabbed my nightgown from the door hook, slipped it on and plopped down on the throne. He didn’t just choose them over me, did he? Before I knew it, my hands covered my eyes and they wouldn’t stop tearing, my face was all wet, and I was hiccupping. What was wrong with me? This was more than one of my moments. I felt wounded. When I realized that at least twenty minutes had passed, I took a deep breath and held it, hoping maybe to hear noises or movement from the bedroom.

  Irish hadn’t come to check on me and that was unusual. Now my wounded feelings were being replaced with anger. Did he just see me as a human incubator? Were the days of making me feel like a beautiful, sexy woman over? I wiped my face with a towel. Slowly turning the knob, I quietly pulled the door open. The bed was empty. Where was he? I made my way down the hall and stood back before entering the living room. Irish was sitting in the dark
with the phone on the table in front of him. Enough light was shining in from the streetlamp that I could see him cradling his head in his hands staring at the phone. It rang and my heart jumped. Irish grabbed it as if he were trying to catch it on the first ring. I stepped back to stay out of his view in case he turned, and I listened.

  “Yes, Dr. Thomas, thank you for returning my call,” and now I was really curious. “No, she’s fine but I was calling to ask you about…er…sex. We saw the babies moving and I was wondering...” It must have been a minute or two before Irish continued. “Well I appreciate you calling me back and I will share what you’ve told me with Jurnee. Thanks again. Good night” and he punched the off button. I watched him set the phone on the table and stare out the front window. I walked into the room and he turned, looking up at me.

  “Is everything all right, Irish?” and he turned and looked back out the window.

  “Evidently not, Jurnee, because it’s obvious I’ve hurt you.” I watched him clinch one hand into a ball while folding his other hand over it. His eyes dropped back down to the table.

  “Who was on the phone?” I asked, hoping he hadn’t known I was eavesdropping.

  “I called your doctor. I needed to hear from him that making love to you wouldn’t hurt you or the babies.” He didn’t look at me. It was as if he were punishing me with his tone. Finally after several long moments he turned and looked at me his face soft and voice gentle. “Because you’re carrying triplets, ordinarily he wouldn’t advise it. He said that if I were to come in contact with your cervix, it could start contractions. I think he said you having an orgasm could start them. I’m not really sure. But because your pregnancy was going so well, he’d only suggest that we stop immediately if it became at all uncomfortable. He’s going to talk to us next visit and suggest that we refrain from intercourse until you deliver and heal.” He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his eyes and turning away from me. We both sat in silence for what seemed like forever.

  Now staring out the window, he said, “Jurnee, this isn’t anything like the first time you asked me to make love to you. Then, it was more about me wanting to wait until you fell in love with me, or at least felt half of what I felt for you. I was afraid if you didn’t feel something for me, then you wouldn’t care if you ever saw me again as if I were just a hook-up.” I dropped my eyes from him and thought about his words.

  He continued, “This is about me being genuinely worried about hurting you or our babies. I want to give you what you want, but I also want to do what’s right here too, Jurnee. I’m not a machine. If I’m genuinely worried about the act, it isn’t going to work.

  Do you understand what I’m saying, love?” And now we looked at each other. He was saying that he couldn’t perform if he was worried about hurting us. This was a first for me. Irish had always been able to make love to me. I hadn’t ever considered it an issue. I could feel a look of stupidity wash over my face, feeling like a jerk. I wanted to run back to the bathroom and cry all over again. I felt myself take a deep breath and slowly let it out to calm my selfish desires. I moved to the sofa and sat down beside him. I reached for his hand and although I thought he hesitated, he gave it to me.

  “I think I understand what you’re saying, Irish,” I whispered as I cupped my hands around his. “I know you’d do anything for me and except for that one time, you’ve never said no to me.” I watched as his head flew up, his eyes on mine.

  I smiled, “Remember at your house the day you picked me up from the island?” He pressed his lips together while barely shaking his head and then turned from me and dropped his eyes to the floor. “Maybe I was selfish that first time, maybe I was being selfish tonight. I honestly didn’t consider that maybe you couldn’t do it, just that I needed you to do it.

  When I’m with you in that way, everything else in the world melts away. It’s a feeling that I’ve only ever had with you. I feel safe, loved, and special. Nothing else can touch the way I feel when I’m with you, Irish, and when you said no, I was hurt and scared. I’m so sorry.” I could feel my eyes brimming and he finally looked at me.

  He was smiling and leaned in tilting his head against mine and placed his free hand on top of mine. “That’s exactly the way it is for me, Jurnee. You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say those words. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You loving me and feeling the same way I feel about you. I could never purposely hurt you,” and I watched him drop his head. My tears spilled out and I felt them pouring down my cheeks. I freed my hands and reached out to hug his body. When Irish looked at me I saw his wet cheeks. Well don’t we make a great pair, I thought and smiled, feeling his strong arms wrap around me.

  His warm breath on my neck, I heard him whisper, “I promise to make it up to you, Jurnee. For now I promise I will do my best to make you feel special.”

  Now I was crying, my face scrunching up and trying to hide it while leaning into his chest. I gulped a mouthful of air, trying to stop it. The tighter he hugged me trying to comfort me the wider the floodgates opened. He was trying to pull me into his body, but my belly prevented him from getting any closer.

  I lifted my head searching for his eyes. His face was fuzzy and my face scrunched up as I made my words audible, “I’m so fat, Irish,” and now I was having a full-blown pity-party. I didn’t blame him, but I heard him chuckle and reach for my face, frantically kissing me over and over.

  “Jurnee, you’re pregnant, love. You are and have always been perfect to me. When will you believe me?” He leaned his nose against mine, still firmly holding my face, making me look into his eyes.

  “You’re just as beautiful to me now as the day I first set eyes on you,” and he wiped his finger across my cheek. “Come to bed with me and I’ll play you any song you want.” I stared into his eyes.

  “Any song?” and he nodded. “Naked?” and now he laughed.

  “Absolutely,” and I stood, holding his hand and following him to our room.

  * * *

  On June 8th, we were overjoyed and overwhelmed to become parents again. The babies were born, at thirty-eight weeks gestation, by cesarean section. All three were beautiful and healthy. Jypsy Ciara weighed 4.14 pounds, Jayden Bryce weighed five, and Jaxon Memphis was 5.6 pounds. They required no incubation and were all strong as any single-birth baby.

  * * *

  Today I’m celebrating my fiftieth birthday and my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I’m still madly in love with my husband and best friend. I’m not sure if it was angels that brought Irish and me together, but I have my own theories. I hadn’t picked him; he had chosen me, but I had been naïve enough to trust him. If I’d stopped to think everything through as some might have, I probably wouldn’t be enjoying this wonderful relationship today. Sometimes life calls for innocence. At times life is fair. When we stop and make ourselves justify our inner feelings, we end up in trouble. My father was a mason and my mother worked in an elementary school cafeteria. They didn’t fly around in private planes or have limousines drive them; however, they did know a lot about love and life. They knew enough to teach me to grab the brass ring when I saw it.

  Some people might feel I’ve made poor decisions and they have every right to judge me.

  That’s okay with me. I’ve chosen to live by a quote my mother instilled in me when the situation called for it. “Don’t judge a person till you’ve walked a mile in their moccasins” and although it was a Native American saying and not hers, I feel blessed that she had the insight to teach me the importance of these words. My four children have heard me say it many times. Yes, from the outside looking in, some might say I’ve been reckless and just plain lucky. To them I’d have to say I agree. I took a great many gambles but I succeeded in winning the lottery. Every day I see a twinkle in our children’s eyes, and it reminds me how lucky I really am. My life is better than I could ever have dreamed it. I dare anyone to be so happy.

  Look for the second book in this series:

  “The First Chi
ld,”

  Coming soon.