33. Marley
33
MARLEY
A slice of pain makes me hiss as I slide my finger under the wrapping paper. “Shit,” I curse. I watch as the small bead of blood pools on my fingertip. I’m sitting on the living room floor, wrapping Christmas presents for the late family Christmas this afternoon. I call out, “Beau?”
“Yeah?” Beau’s voice calls from the guest bathroom. I hear his footsteps as he strides into the living room. His toothbrush is hanging from his mouth, white foam spilling out over his lips onto his freshly groomed beard.
I chuckle softly. “I got a papercut. Can you grab me a Band-Aid, please?”
Beau sighs in relief. He stands before me in his dress pants, hanging low on his hips. Toothbrush still sticking out of his mouth, he settles his hands on his hips. “You can’t scare me like that, Mar.”
“Like what?” I joke. “I called your name, Beau. If that was scary, we need to check your blood pressure.”
His eyes narrow as he pulls his toothbrush from his mouth. He runs back to the bathroom without another word, and I can hear the water run, then the cabinet door opening and closing before he’s running back toward the living room. Beau kneels next to me. With him this close, I can practically taste his sharp cologne.
“Hand,” he commands, holding his own hand out expectantly.
I chuckle when I realize that not only did he bring a Band-Aid, but he brought the whole damn first-aid kit. “Oh my god, are you going to give me stitches?” I gasp in mock horror.
“I’ll do what I need to do, butterfly,” Beau says, his irritation clear as he gently takes my hand. He takes a cotton ball, dabbing at the tiny amount of blood. With careful dexterity, he applies a dollop of antibacterial ointment, and wraps my finger in a Band-Aid.
“Am I going to live?” I tease.
“Ha ha,” he laughs humorlessly and then gives me a playful scowl. He stands, taking in the mess of gift wrapping and packages around me. “What is all this anyway?”
“Do we need to get Dr. Ness to check your memory at the next appointment?” I joke. “Christmas presents, Beau. Remember?”
“I know that,” he scoffs. “I mean why are there so many?” He gestures to the piles in front of me.
I shrug, feeling a touch embarrassed. “I went a bit overboard for both of our parents, but that’s just because I love them so much, and I needed to get them presents from the babies.”
“ From the babies?” he asks incredulously. His brows raise and he pulls his long hair into a bun. “Mar… they aren’t here yet.”
“I know that. I just… I wanted them to be excited. It’s not much, just a lot of little things.”
“Did you get everyone presents from the babies?”
I hold my breath, anxious to reply, but I think he takes that as my answer.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t help it!” I squeal. “And of course I had to get Lennie some extra things, since this will be her last Christmas as the only grandchild. She needs to feel the love.” I gesture to the small— okay large —pile of things for Lennie. I made sure to get her everything but toys. Books, coloring pencils, crafts, movie tickets for just us two. Things that won’t break in twenty-four hours or send Jason into a fit of silent rage at me when he finds out the toy makes a screaming noise, or something like that.
“She does feel the love.” Beau tries to bargain with me, but it’s already done.
“It’s happening, so you can either help me put all this in the car, or you can watch your pregnant girlfriend struggle herself.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I freeze, my face heating in pure mortification. “I, uh—” I stammer, trying to correct myself. Shit, shit, shit. Why did I say that? I’m not his girlfriend.
“You name it, and I’ll do it, butterfly.”
I don’t reply, silently relieved that Beau isn’t going to make a big deal. I nod, focusing my attention back to finishing the last few packages. Beau takes my silence as an answer, grimacing slightly as he heads back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
Crap.
“Look,” I say, pointing to my feet sitting currently perched up onto the ottoman. “I’ve spent most of the day off my feet, and they’re still swollen. I’ve got cankles.”
Gramps chuckles next to me. “Now, kiddo, you haven’t seen swollen until you’ve seen these ankles.” With great effort, Gramps uses his pant leg to lift his leg up next to mine on the ottoman. He shifts his leg, tugging his pant leg up to reveal his tight, knee-high, white stockings. “Now, these are swollen.”
I can’t help but giggle. Gramps isn’t technically my real grandpa, but he is in a sense. Our two families have always considered each other as more than just friends, and now, with my pregnancy, we will actually be connected by blood. Not that it matters. Family is family, no matter if you’re blood or not.
“I think those are a good look for you, Gramps,” I tease. “You’re going to walk during the next fashion week, aren’t you?”
“You know it, kiddo.” I love that even at thirty-two years old, he still calls me kiddo. It makes me think of a time when things were easier. When I wasn’t pregnant with my best friend’s baby. Or when I just accidentally referred to myself as his girlfriend, when I know I can’t be, when I know I need to keep a distance.
“Can you feel ‘em kickin’ yet?” Gramps asks, poking a gentle finger at my belly.
I rub my hand over my bump affectionately. “Not yet, but probably in a few weeks.”
“Hmm,” he mumbles. “So, you still giving my grandson a run for his money?” He nods his head toward Beau, leaning against the countertop. He has a pale gray sweater on and is drinking a glass of punch.
“Always,” I reply. Though if anything, Beau is giving me a run for my money. I’m losing stamina. You know what they say about the second trimester of pregnancy, right? Horny. All the sex dreams. All the porny thoughts every time Beau walks in my front door, or steps out of the bathroom in only a low slung towel over his hips. I swear to god, I almost propositioned him to play a pizza delivery boy the other day when he walked in the door with a pizza box. I. Am. Losing. It.
Just thinking of it now has my pulse climbing, my cheeks flushing, and a damp sweat breaking out on my brow. We haven’t done anything since the night he took my piercings out and gave me the most incredible orgasm, and I’ve been aching for him since.
“Good,” Gramps says. “Now, help me up. I need to take a leak.” He scoots forward on the deep couch.
“Shouldn’t you be helping me?” I laugh, gesturing to my now obvious baby bump. “I’m just as slow as you are nowadays, Gramps.”
“Oh, hush,” he grumbles.
I sit forward, standing from the couch slowly, making a dramatic show of it, resting a hand on my lower back and groaning. “Alright,” I say. “Here we go.” I hold out my hand, and help him stand from the couch.
He’s not as tall as he once was, with aging and his posture changing, but he’s still much taller than me. Gramps leans forward, kissing my cheek. “Thank you, kiddo.”
My heart clenches as I remember how we almost lost him last year. The way Beau’s voice cracked as he told me he needed me, the way he sobbed into my chest as I held him in that small waiting room. The fear of the unknown, not knowing if Gramps would be okay, if the center of our little combined family would make it.
Gramps leaves the living room, heading toward the kitchen. We had a late lunch about an hour ago, and I’m sure he’s on a mission to get some dessert from Nikki.
I chance a glance across the room, seeing Beau sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. His legs are out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He sits next to Jason, and they talk about upcoming changes to the brewery, and what Jason has planned for the summer.
Josie is sitting next to Thomas on the other couch, so I decide to sit next to her, and join their conversation, rather than attempting to sit down on the floor. When I flop down next to her, she wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Hey, you,” she greets.
“Hey,” I answer.
Thomas leans over, greeting me as well. “How are ya feeling?”
I shrug. “Good, my hip joints have been kind of achy lately.”
Thomas nods. “I don’t know anything about babies or pregnancy, so… cool?” he replies, offering a thumbs up.
I chuckle. “Yeah, I mean, it means my body is adjusting to the pregnancy, so I guess that’s good.”
Josie shakes her head. “Don’t worry Thomas,” Josie says with a smirk. “You’ll get it figured out soon enough.”
He laughs. “Right, like I’m going to have kids anytime soon. I remember when Lennie was little, though. Man, she was cute.” He pauses. “I can’t wait to see what your gremlins look like. I bet they will be the perfect mix of you and Beau.”
My throat tightens. Anytime I’ve pictured the babies, I’ve imagined them as little boys that look identical to Beau. Dark hair, dark brown eyes. “I think they’re going to look like Beau,” I reply.
“You do?” Josie asks. “Do you know if you’re going to find out what they are yet?”
I shrug. “Not sure. My next scan is in a few weeks, but I keep forgetting to ask Beau if he wants to know.”
“I think they’re both girls,” Josie announces.
Thomas shakes his head. “Nope, both boys.”
They look at me expectantly. “I…” I hesitate. “I don’t really know. I keep imagining them as boys.”
“Do they feel like boys?” Thomas asks. He has a silly grin on his face, showing the gap between his front teeth.
“Thomas, you can’t ‘feel’ what gender the babies are,” Josie responds.
“I know that, I just meant like do you have a feeling? Like you know, when the weather changes, Dad can feel it in his hips.”
“No, Thomas,” I say through laughter. “I can’t feel what they are. At least not yet. I know some people have said that they can, but right now, I don’t have a gut feeling. Just imagination.”
He nods. “Man, I think it’s great though. You and Beau, together at last.”
“We’re not really together, Thomas. You know that,” I say pointedly. I know he knows, because we made sure to tell our family recently that just because we were having the babies together, didn’t mean that we were together. Beau was pointedly silent during that conversation.
He doesn’t reply for a moment, only shrugs. “We’ve all been saying it for years. Clearly…” He eyes my stomach. “Something happened to crack the dam, we just need to break it down completely.”
Josie squeezes my shoulder.
“It’s a pretty strong dam,” I mutter. “Might take a lot for it to crack again.”
“I bet we can find a way,” Thomas says almost conspiratorially.
The conversation is effectively ended when Lennie runs screaming into the room.
“Present time!”