Chapter 5 #2
We spent the next hour planning decorations, menu options, and games. The women were excited, generous with their time and ideas. But underneath the celebration, I could feel their careful attention to my situation, their awareness that something was off about my pregnancy experience.
When the meeting ended, I walked back through the main bar area, feeling the weight of the evening's conversations settling on my shoulders. My friends had been kind, excited about the baby shower, but I could sense the tension around Jack's absence.
Sam looked up from behind the bar as I approached, immediately noticing my exhaustion.
"You look beat," he said, setting down the glass he was cleaning. "I thought baby shower planning was supposed to be exciting."
"Just tired. Baby's been active tonight." I rubbed my lower back, trying to ease the ache that had been building throughout the evening.
"Hey, Mark!" Sam called one of his bartenders. "Can you handle things for the rest of the night? I need to step out."
"Sure thing, boss."
I watched in surprise as Sam grabbed his keys and jacket. "Sam, you don't have to—"
"I'm driving you home," he said firmly. "You're exhausted, and I'm not letting you drive when you can barely keep your eyes open."
"I'm fine to drive."
"I'm sure you are. But you don't have to." He came around the bar and gently took my elbow. "Come on. We can get your car tomorrow."
The kindness in his voice almost broke me. I was so tired of having to be fine all the time, so tired of handling everything alone these last few weeks. "Thank you," I whispered.
Sam's truck was warm and comfortable, and I found myself relaxing for the first time all evening.
"The girls seem excited about the shower," he said, breaking the comfortable silence.
"They are. They're being so thoughtful about everything."
"They care about you, Harper. We all do."
I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak. The simple act of being taken care of, of having someone notice my exhaustion and respond to it, felt overwhelming. Pregnancy emotions were getting the better of me.
"If you need anything," Sam said as he pulled into my driveway, "anything, you call me, okay? I mean it."
"Sam—"
"I know Jack's trying to do the right thing with Madison. But you're going through something important too, and you shouldn't have to do it alone. You don't have to do it alone. We are all here for you."
The words were so similar to what Lisa had said, but coming from Jack's best friend, they felt different. More protective, more immediate.
"Thank you," I said again. "For everything. The mocktail, the ride home, letting us use the bar..."
"Anytime."
I stood just inside the door and watched him drive away, feeling grateful for his friendship and support. The house felt less empty knowing that Sam was looking out for me, that I had someone I could count on when Jack wasn't there.
Inside, I sat at the kitchen table, looking at the ultrasound photo I'd put on the refrigerator.
Our daughter's profile was clearly visible, her tiny features perfectly formed.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jack: Madison's treatment ran late.
Staying overnight to make sure she's okay. See you tomorrow. I love you.
I stared at the message, recalling how I'd anticipated this, had already told everyone that Jack would be staying over with Madison tonight, hours before he even sent the text. Madison needed him. I understood that. But I needed him too, and lately it felt like Madison's needs always came first.
I texted back: Okay. Love you.
I went upstairs to the nursery. Jack and I had painted it together months ago, back when his biggest worry was whether we'd chosen the right shade of yellow for the walls.
Now it was nearly complete, decorated with the furniture we'd picked out together, the mobile I'd chosen, the books I'd been collecting.
I sat in the rocking chair Jack had assembled one weekend, my hand on my belly, feeling our daughter's strong kicks. She was active tonight, as if she could sense my mood. "Your daddy's helping someone," I whispered to her. "He's a good man, baby girl. He helps people when they need it most."
The words felt true, but they also felt incomplete. Jack was a good man who helped people. But he was also my husband, and he was missing so much of this pregnancy, so much of our final preparation for parenthood.
I thought about Sam's kindness tonight, how he'd noticed my exhaustion and immediately stepped in to help.
How he'd created a special drink just for me, given us space for the meeting, and driven me home when I was too tired to drive safely.
The contrast between Sam's attentiveness and Jack's absence wasn't lost on me.
The baby kicked again, strong and insistent, and I smiled despite everything. Soon, she'd be here. Soon, I'd hold her in my arms instead of just feeling her movements. And maybe, by then, Jack would have figured out how to be present for both of us.
I hoped so.