Chapter Twenty-Three
(Six months into the pregnancy)
Things had been going amazingly well with Rex and me. Our life together was insanely good. The companionship, the sex, the laughter, it was everything I’d ever hoped for. Rex was my best friend. I could tell him anything and he never judged me. I’d never had such unconditional love from anyone.
Thanks to Jack, my income was steady and very healthy. I was trying to get as many pieces painted before I got much further along in my pregnancy. The bigger my stomach got, the longer each painting took. My stamina was fading fast, and standing long hours painting was becoming a bit too much for me. I knew things would only get worse once I was even closer to the due date.
Despite Rex being an alpha, he was more accomplished at many things the omega would usually handle. For example, he always did the cooking. But I wanted to spoil him too, so one evening, I decided I was going to attempt to cook dinner for him. I found what looked like a simple chicken recipe online, and dove in.
While my intentions were good, I hadn’t taken into consideration my “pregnancy brain.” I was extremely forgetful lately. If it wasn’t for Rex remembering my doctor appointments, I’d probably have missed them all. Trying to cook him dinner was a disaster waiting to happen, but I didn’t figure that out until I was halfway through the process.
Cooking the dinner started off really well. I’d defrosted some chicken breasts ahead of time and assembled all the ingredients I’d need. I’d heated the pan and precut the veggies. I had high hopes the meal would be the most amazing meal I’d ever made. Mind you, it was a very low bar. But still, I had hope it would all magically come together.
Until I actually started cooking.
It didn’t take long for everything to go south.
I managed to slice the chicken to perfection, and had it sizzling in the hot pan. I put the chopped veggies in as well, adding the chicken broth the recipe called for. It was as I stirred the contents of the pan, inhaling the combined ingredients, that I sensed something wasn’t quite right. The food had a sweet fragrance, which I found confusing. I hadn’t added anything sweet to the dish yet.
“Could it be the veggies?” I muttered, staring at the bubbling concoction.
I sniffed the air repeatedly, like a bloodhound on the trail of an escaped fugitive. I finally identified the fragrance as that of fruit—apples to be exact. Why was I smelling apples? I glanced around the kitchen, wondering if perhaps there was a bowl of ripe fruit nearby I’d forgotten about. I didn’t see anything though, so my confusion continued.
“What the heck am I smelling?” I grumbled. I grabbed the carton of chicken broth. “Did this spoil or something?” I held the carton up to my nose and gingerly sniffed.
Apples .
Not chicken.
Definitely not chicken.
I gasped and stared wide eyed at the carton I held. There was clearly a big red apple on the carton label, not a chicken. There wasn’t a bird to be seen on the carton. I’d accidentally put apple juice instead of chicken broth into the pan. “What the hell?” I groaned. How had I mistaken an apple for a chicken ?
“Shit.” I set the carton down, feeling panicked and foolish. I had to fix this somehow. But how? Apparently I couldn’t even follow a simple recipe. How as I supposed to wing it and turn this disaster into an amazing meal?
When the front door opened, I winced in frustration. Rex was home early, and just in time to witness my failure. I was tempted to throw the pan into the trash to hide the evidence, but with my luck the trash can would go up in flames.
“Do I smell something cooking?” Rex’s deep voice floated in from the living room. He sounded curious and somewhat alarmed .
“Kind of,” I responded, staring at the pan and feeling disheartened.
He entered the kitchen and the first thing he did was give me a warm kiss hello. Then he turned to peek into the pan. “What’s this?”
I slumped. “It was supposed to be dinner.”
“But now it’s not?”
“No because I ruined the meal,” I wailed, clutching my rounded belly. “The baby sucked up all my brain cells.”
He lifted his brows, appearing startled. “Huh?”
I sighed. “My brain doesn’t work right anymore because of all the pregnancy hormones flying around in my body. I can’t even follow a recipe anymore. I… I walk around in a fog of dumbness .”
“No you don’t.”
“I promise you, I do.”
“I don’t think so, Tanner.” He gave me an encouraging smile.
I groaned. “Rex, I almost brushed my teeth with shaving cream twice this week.”
He grimaced. “Well, anyone might do that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Have you ever done that even once?”
“Probably. I’m sure I have.”
I sighed. “I appreciate you’re trying to make me feel better, but my pregnancy brain is wreaking havoc on me, Rex. I forget stuff all the time.” I waved to the pan. “Apparently now I can’t even tell a chicken from an apple.”
Rex looked confused. “I’m not following.”
I picked up the carton of juice. “I thought this was chicken broth, but it’s apple juice. It’s clearly showing an apple. How did I think that was a chicken? How? ”
“I see.” He rubbed his jaw. “Well, we can still turn this meal into a delicious dinner, Tanner.”
“How? Chickens and apples are not the same. Even with my pregnancy brain, I know that.” I shook my head. “Why did I think I could handle cooking you a meal? Lately, I’m lucky if I remember to wear pants.”
He didn’t respond, instead going to grab an extra apron from a hook near the fridge. “We can save this, I promise. We’ll do it together.”
“God, Rex. I should probably just stay out of your way.”
“Nope. We’re doing this together. Team work for the win, right?” He winked at me.
“Uh, sure. If you say so.” I still thought my idea of sitting this out was smarter, but he looked very determined.
Rex reached for a wooden spoon. “The thing about cooking is you have to be ready to pivot, if needed. Most things can be fixed. Using apple juice instead of chicken broth can still produce a delicious meal, Tanner. We’ll just go for a sweet and savory sort of fusion dish. ”
“More like a con-fusion dish,” I muttered.
His lips twitched. “That’s funny. I’m glad you still have your sense of humor.” He went to the pantry. “Soy sauce and a dash of hot mustard are going to turn this into a masterpiece.”
I couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm. Steve would have been pissed at me for fucking up the dinner, but Rex was good-naturedly going along with things. I watched him work, heart squeezing with affection.
He glanced over at me, his expression warm and encouraging. “Come closer. We’re cooking together, remember?”
“I’m afraid I’ll ruin it if I help.”
“Get your beautiful ass over here, Tanner,” he rumbled. “We’re doing this together. I’ll tell you what to do so you won’t ruin anything.”
I inched closer. “Okay.”
“Here.” He handed me the wooden spoon. “Stir gently, while I add the hot mustard. Make sure it gets mixed in really well. This spice adds wonderful complex flavors if it’s distributed correctly. But no one wants a mouthful of hot mustard.”
He added the mustard, some garlic, and soy sauce, while I stirred diligently. Next, he left me to go chop some green onions. Once everything was in the pan, he lowered the flame, and put a lid on the pan. He led me to the living room, and we sat on the couch .
He put his arms around me, giving me a long, tender kiss. When the kiss ended, he ruffled my hair. “Thank you for wanting to cook me dinner, Tanner.”
I grimaced. “You’re welcome, even though I failed.”
“You didn’t fail. We created a new recipe.” He smiled. “Together.”
“We haven’t tasted it yet. It might be horrible.”
“Nah. Apple juice is great in a recipe. Now, if you’d added too much salt or something like that, that’s harder to fix. But seriously, this meal is going to be great. Can’t you tell how good it smells already?”
“Yes, but sometimes things smell better than they taste.”
“I guarantee you’re going to love this meal.”
His confidence was contagious and I found myself smiling. “You always manage to make bad situations okay,” I said softly. “I feel so good around you, Rex. You’re like the sun or something.”
He laughed. “I’ve been called worse.”
I rested my hands on my big belly. “This kid is going to be lucky to have you in its life.”
“I’m excited to meet him or her.” He placed his hand over one of mine. “And the baby is lucky to have you too. You’re amazing, Tanner. ”
“You say that to me all the time.” I met his warm gaze. “I’m starting to believe you.”
“Good. You should.”
“Maybe I will be a good dad. I’ll do anything for this kid. I already love this little person inside me.” My eyes stung as I thought about the baby. “I don’t know why I get to be so happy, but I’m glad of it.”
“Who cares why? We should simply enjoy life together.”
“I agree.” I felt the baby kick, and Rex raised his brows.
“Was that the baby?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” I moved his hand to where I thought he might feel the baby even better. When there was another strong kick, Rex grinned. “He’s saying hello to you,” I said.
Rex leaned forward and spoke to my stomach. “Hey, little one. We can’t wait to meet you.”
“Well, we can wait three more months to meet you.” I laughed. “We don’t want you to come visit us prematurely.”
Rex winced. “No, we don’t want that. You just stay put and cook some more, little one.”
I laughed. “Hey, maybe this is the only kind of cooking I’ll ever be good at.”
Grinning, Rex nodded. “Doesn’t get better than bringing life into the world. So what if you can’t make a casserole. You can make a human life.”
“With a little help, yeah.”
Rex laughed. “Oh, I’m happy to help anytime, anyplace.”
“I’ll just bet you are.”
“Team work for the win, right?”
I smirked. “Team work for the win.”
****
(Eight Months Into the Pregnancy)
“What the heck are you doing, Tanner?” Rex’s alarmed voice came to me from the doorway of my studio.
I was perched on a step stool, trying to put a tote of acrylic paints on the upper shelf of the closet. “I’ve almost got it,” I said breathlessly. “Don’t distract me.”
He took the tote from me. “You’re not supposed to lift things over your head. You could hurt the baby and you could fall off the step stool.”
“Well, you weren’t home yet and I needed to get this done,” I grumbled, stepping off the stool.
“Tell me again why reorganizing your studio is a life-or-death situation at eight months pregnant.” He knelt down to pick up a paintbrush on the ground. “What’s the story with this brush? It looks like it lost a fight with a lawnmower.”
I laughed despite myself. “Hey, that’s my favorite brush. Don’t make fun of it.” I grabbed it out of his hand and kissed the handle. “It’s okay, little brush, just ignore him.”
He smiled. “So, why are you so hellbent to organize the studio?”
“The baby will be here soon.”
“Okay, but I’m still not sure why the studio has to be organized.” He watched me as I grabbed a stack of sketch books and headed toward him. He took them from me and placed them on the shelf next to the tote of paints.
“I’m nesting.” I let out a tired breath. “Everything needs to be perfect before the baby comes.”
“Why? The baby will probably just drool and dirty it’s diapers for the first three months. I don’t think the kid will critique your organizational skills, Tanner.” He looked amused. “All the baby is going to care about is getting it’s milk. I highly doubt they’ll care about whether your color theory charts are in order.”
“Well, what if we have visitors?”
“Do we even know anyone who would visit?” He laughed. “Plus, if we had visitors, we’d entertain them in the living room, not your studio.”
“I’ll just be able to relax more if things are in order.”
He nodded in understanding. “Okay, if you’ll be able to enjoy life with things in order, I’ll help. Just don’t let me catch you on a step ladder again, please. It’s too risky.”
“I suppose if you’ll help me, then I’ll calm down.” I winced when my back twinged.
Rex’s gaze sharpened. “How about you take a little break.” He moved over to me and steered me out of the studio to the living room. “Sit. I’ll get you a snack.”
I brightened. “Ooh, a snack?”
“Yep. I brought home some chocolate almond ice cream.”
I felt as if I’d won the lottery. “Yes, please.”
Once I was settled with a pillow behind my back, Rex disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, he came back with a glass of water and a bowl of ice cream.”
“I’m bribing you so you’ll relax.” He grinned as he handed me the bowl of ice cream.
“This is my favorite kind of bribe.” I took a bite of the chocolate dessert, closing my eyes happily as the sweet flavor washed over my tongue. “Mmm.”
He chuckled and settled beside me, stretching his legs out. “You’ll never believe who offered to buy us a crib.”
I frowned. “Jack?”
He laughed. “No. Jack probably doesn’t even remember you’re pregnant. He’s all about your work. Other than that, he’s clueless. ”
“Who then?” I paused eating, trying to think who would be invested enough in my pregnancy to want to buy a crib. “Not Steve?”
Rex chuffed. “You think he’d bother? Since you won’t go back to him, he seems completely disinterested in the baby now. Pretending to care about the baby was just a way to get you back.”
I sighed. “I think you’re right. I haven’t heard a word from him since that day at the apartment. I called him to let him know the baby was okay, but he didn’t even pick up.”
“He’s probably embarrassed and his pride is wounded.”
“Probably.” I took another bite of ice cream. Once I’d swallowed, I asked, “So who offered to buy us a crib?”
“Mrs. Rodwell.”
I was so shocked, I almost dropped my bowl of ice cream. “Why would she offer that?”
“I’m not sure, but she did. She came up to me after lunch and told me she wanted to do that for us.”
“I’m flabbergasted,” I mumbled. “She made it abundantly clear she didn’t approve of us being together. She insisted only Steve and I should raise the baby.”
He shrugged. “Apparently, she’s had a change of heart.”
I swirled my ice cream with the spoon, frowning. “That’s crazy. I mean, I’m glad and all because cribs are pricey, but it’s not something I ever thought she’d do.”
“She told me you should pick out the perfect crib, and she’ll buy it. She wants it to be your decision.” He smiled. “She also admitted she thinks that’s best because she doesn’t know the first thing about cribs or babies.”
I blinked at him. “No, I suppose she wouldn’t. I only know what we should get because I’ve been obsessively scouring baby catalogues the last few months.”
“Well, pick out what you want and she’ll buy it.” He leaned his head back and then lifted it again. “Oh, wait, she told me to tell you something and she was very insistent that I get the wording just right.”
I frowned. “What did she want you to tell me?”
He cleared his throat. “She said to tell you that she’s decided to be on the inside of it, not the outside.” He watched me closely. “Does that make sense to you?”
You can either be a part of our happiness, or you can be on the outside of it, Mrs. Rodwell.
She’d actually taken my words to heart? She’d actually listened to what I’d said to her that day? I was moved, knowing how prideful she was, that she had wanted me to know she’d listened. She could have just bought us the crib and said nothing about it. But she’d chosen to let me know she’d heard me.
My eyes stung and a lump rose in my throat. I nodded. “Yeah, her words makes perfect sense to me, Rex.”