Chapter 45 You Like That I’m Powerful, Right?
Forty-Five. You like that I’m powerful, right?
Tamara, February
I’m tired, my feet hurt, my belly is weighing me down and this damn kid refuses to budge.
We’re a week away from my due date and I’ve had enough of being pregnant.
I know once the baby is born, there’s a lot my body will go through before I’m fully healed.
But seriously, can the baby get here now? A week feels like a million years.
Despite everyone telling me it’s okay to wear flats and not put too much effort into my clothes, I’ve gone above and beyond.
It’s Vera’s engagement party and I don’t want to be a slacker.
So far, all our aunts and uncles have said I’m glowing and look beautiful.
I force smiles for their lies. I know how I look—exhausted, washed out even with layers of makeup and ready to murder everyone.
Millie and Krys have been reminding me my face has now developed subtitles.
I’m not someone with a resting bitch face and I don’t always express my feelings.
This pregnancy has turned me into a monster.
I shift on my feet, regretting my decision to dress up.
The heels are killing me and my back hurts.
I’ve already gone to the bathroom a hundred times and this baby continues to tap dance against my bladder.
If I didn’t love them or my husband-to-be as much as I do, I would be cursing them to the highest heavens. Besides, tonight is not about me.
“Dammit, Lotus. Why aren’t you sitting down?”
I grunt at the deep growl that follows and let him force me back into my seat.
I’m part of the bridal party and yet, I can’t see the freaking bride.
We’re at the first table and the whole universe is standing between me and the couple.
I know what they look like and who they are, but I want to watch.
I sit with a huff, the pink tulle of my dress flutters, and I make a show of slumping back against my chair.
Patrick rolls his eyes at my dramatics, but doesn’t say anything.
He sits beside me and silently lifts my feet onto his lap.
I press my lips together to stop from smiling.
I did agree wearing a saree while this pregnant would be a nightmare, but I refused to give up my heels.
He still brought a pair of flats along. A bag with extra things—including adult diapers and extra panties for when I can’t make it to the loo—sits under the table and he tosses my heels there as well.
“What was your plan here?” he asks while pressing his thumbs against the soles of my feet. “Shove everyone aside until they moved?”
“Why are they all standing here anyway? It’s not like there’s a line.”
“Everyone wants to see Vera and Elias.”
I blow a raspberry and cross my arms, adjusting them until they’re sitting on my belly.
Patrick continues to massage my feet, paying special attention to my ankles.
I’m too frustrated to be turned on by the act, but it still feels so good and I can’t help but moan.
The relief of not wearing my heels and having this man care for me is too much.
“You should eat something,” he adds, nodding at the plate I didn’t realise he’d brought over. It’s piled high with dessert and I grin.
“How did you manage this? A waiter said the buffet wasn’t open yet.”
He smirks. “Used my fame to get my way.”
“You’re the best.” I pop a tiny eclair into my mouth and chase it with a piece of chocolate cake.
Someone makes an announcement about the couple taking a break and suddenly the sea of humans moves and I can see my cousin.
Her fake smile drops as she carefully lowers herself to the sofa set up for them. “We’re not doing this, okay?”
“Doing what?”
“An engagement party. No matter what our families say or want, we’re not doing it.”
Patrick laughs. “Okay. But why not?”
“I don’t want to fake smile for a million people I probably don’t know or remember and I definitely don’t want to be the centre of attention.”
“The second part I already knew. But okay. No engagement party.”
I eat something heavy on the vanilla and make a face. “And no flashy wedding. We’re keeping it small and simple.”
“How small? You know our parents are going to make it difficult.”
I love that he’s been referring to his folks and Vera’s as our parents. Even though Tessammai didn’t give birth to me, she’s the closest thing I have to a mother.
“I’ll tell Jakesapapen I don’t want a big wedding. He’ll listen.”
“You think Vera didn’t try that? You underestimate the power of the women in your family.” I scowl at him and he chuckles. “You strong-armed me into a lot of things for the house, baby. Or are you misremembering this?”
“You said you agreed because you love and trust me!”
“Obviously. And you always get your way.”
I gasp and my attempts to take my legs off his lap are foiled by his giant baby. “Ugh. I can’t even move.”
He laughs and slides his hands under my dress, up my calves to my thighs. “I have no regrets about anything to do with our house. I love giving you what you want, always. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“Fine, but like…you like that I’m powerful, right?”
Patrick stares at me for a moment, then his face splits into the most beautiful smile. My heart gallops and steadies as we swoon. This man could win anyone over with a smile, but he always turns it on me.
“I love that you’re powerful. I love everything about you, Tamara, in case it wasn’t obvious yet.
I love how strong you are. How ridiculous you can get sometimes.
I love your creative mind and the way you’ve transformed our house into a home.
I love that you’ve spent the last nine months carrying my giant baby with only a few complaints.
I love that I get to witness you become this incredible human.
But mostly, I love that you love me and want to be with me for the rest of your life. ”
I blink fast, trying to hold back the tears. I don’t even care that everyone can see us or people have already frowned at Patrick feeling me up under the dress. I feel so overwhelmed with love for this man and I nee—oh no.
His expression shifts instantly. “What…what’s wrong?”
“Did I pee or…”
“Good thing I brought the spare underwear, huh?”
In all fairness, even if he’s carrying spare panties, this has never happened before.
A little comes out on the way to the restrooms, but for the most part I’ve been able to hold it in.
I shift in my chair, the wetness spreading and dress chafing against my thighs.
“Ugh, this is gross. Why is your spawn being so difficult?”
He laughs and reaches for the bag under the table as I stop squirming. Then he freezes and sniffs loudly. “Uh, Lo, I don’t think it’s pee…”
My eyes widen as I look at my lap and then back at Patrick. “Oh my god,” I whisper and the music suddenly gets really loud.
Patrick’s eyes widen as a smile splits his face. “Holy shit. Giant baby on the way?”
“I am not having this baby here.”
There’s a moment of confusion—my feet are still in his lap and he needs to grab everything from under the table.
I reach for his arm and squeeze it gently, forcing him to breathe.
He meets my eyes and laughs nervously before I’m shifted carefully so my feet are on the ground.
We finally made it to antenatal classes with Laxmi and Patrick apologised profusely for what happened the first time we were there.
She insisted it happens to everyone and got down to work.
We both know what to do and the clinic has my birthing plan.
And yet, I can’t remember her instructions beyond how to breathe.
He picks up the bag as the first contraction rolls through me.
I groan loudly and squeeze my eyes shut.
At this point, I don’t care if we’re drawing a crowd.
This baby is coming a week early and it’s their fault I’m now the centre of attention.
I try to remember everything Laxmi taught me and huff-puff all while Patrick’s standing there dumbly, staring at me.
“Fuck, do you want me to carry you?”
“I don’t know,” I force out and he says something else to me, but the next contraction catches me off guard. A hand lands on my back, brushing up and down and I look up into Varun’s concerned face.
He holds his hands out and gripping them, I lift myself up.
Another contraction works its way through me and I hiss.
Before I can straighten up, my feet are off the floor and cradled in Varun’s arms as he moves through the ballroom.
Everyone’s standing, gasping and pointing, but I can’t stop laughing.
I even see the corner of Varun’s mouth twitch.
It’s the only way I can work through the contractions and the fact that this baby is almost here.
Patrick and Vikram are standing on the porch with the back door of the car open. Varun slides me in and my baby daddy climbs in after me. The Thomas boys get in front and drive, as another contraction grips me. I groan and bury my face against Patrick’s shoulder.
“Your fucking giant baby is trying to rip me open!”
His shoulders bounce and I know he’s laughing. He brushes my hair back and kisses my forehead. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
After what felt like years—more like fourteen hours—Susannah Rebecca Joseph was brought into the world.
And like we expected, she came out screaming at the top of her lungs.
I’m grateful my brain doesn’t focus on the painful parts or how long I spent breathing, contracting and pushing.
It was too much for any one person to go through.
Women are truly magic. I am further proof of that now.