Page 53 of Coach Sully
“Ourbaby,” she murmurs, repeating my words barely above a whisper. “Why aren’t you yelling? You should hate me right now.”
How could I ever hate her?I’m disappointed she kept something like this from me. I’m scared for the future and what this change will bring. How we’ll navigate parenthood together. I worry about the level of involvement she’ll let me have. But another part of me feels ready. A part of me that fucking loves our predicament. Our child ties her to me forever; she can’t walk away easily. We’re good together, and now I get a chance—and a reason—to prove it.
“I wish you would have told me. Have you been going to doctor appointments by yourself?”
“Raleigh was going to go with me to the next one.”
“From now on, I’m taking you. Raleigh can stay in the waiting room. I go to the appointments. I listen to the heartbeat. I see the ultrasounds.” I tilt up her chin to look at me. “If something happens to you or the baby, you callme. From now on, that’s how it’s going to be, Kendra. Is that clear?”
She nods.
I will be patient with her for as long as she needs me to be, but she can’t push me away when it comes to the health of her or our child.
“Are you mad at me?”
I shake my head. “No…I’m not mad.” I loosen my grip on her chin and brush my thumb over her full bottom lip. “I’m just disappointed.”
She laughs over a sob. “You picked that up quickly.”
The corner of my mouth curls into a half smile. “Better start practicing.”
After seeing how empty her fridge is, I ordered groceries and a few miscellaneous things. There’s a large Sugar and Ice bakery box on the counter, the box is big enough to hold a hundred of those spice cakes, and I’m not sure how many she started off with, but there’s half a dozen left. I steal one from the box and find it’s stale so text Micky and find out that Kendra’s been picking up weekly orders of them. Apparently, it’s one of the only things she can keep down. I offer to pay triple if she’ll deliver a fresh batch within the hour.
Next, I contact a florist and purchase two large bouquets with rush delivery. When I was here last, she mentioned how much she enjoyed having fresh flowers around. The ones she had aren’t there anymore, so I want to get them replaced.
When the flowers arrive, the vibrant pink peonies with golden stamens are exactly what I pictured when I described what I wanted to the florist. The woman included a mix of green spider chrysanthemums, pink and orange roses, and a few colorful ranunculi. It’s a cacophony of colors that remind me of her. I place one of the arrangements in the living room and the other in the bedroom for her to see when she wakes from her nap.
Micky’s delivery driver arrives with the spice cakes shortly after. I check the time, five o’clock. When I enter her bedroom, she’s still in a deep sleep. This woman is exhausted. I’m not sure how long she’s been running on fumes, but she has a serious sleep debt to pay off. She barely stirs when I crawl into bed and curve my body behind hers while resisting the urge to touch her stomach. I’ll wait for her to invite me. Which I hope is soon, evenif there’s nothing to feel. I want to be a part of this, but she’s got to invite me in.
Her peaceful breaths are soothing as I rack my brain for ways to keep her and my coaching position.
At some point, I fell asleep, then I wake to her stretching next to me.
“Oh my God!”
The sky is dark. I open one eye to check my watch, almost eight. “Hm?” I ask, my eyes closed. I didn’t need the nap like she did, but it’s easy to fall asleep with her in my arms, and now I’m struggling to move.
“Where did these peonies come from?”
I smile, pressing my lips to the back of her neck. “You were out of fresh flowers. I remember you saying you liked having them around.”
She spins and wraps her arm over my side. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I grab under her thigh and bring it over mine. “It makes me look good.”
She lets out a small laugh. “I wanted flowers today… Really. I almost bought them earlier. But then I bought nail polish instead.” She yawns. “Raleigh and I were going to give each other pedicures.”
That makes me happy to hear. “I’ll make sure you always have flowers, baby girl… What would you like for dinner?” She groans. “What?”
“I have a lot of morning sickness—all day sickness, really. The doctor told me to eat little meals often. But I think I waited too long. My stomach feels queasy.”
“Does anything sound good? How about one of those spice cakes?” When Raleigh was pregnant with Darby, she would throw up every time she smelled raw chicken.
“Yeah… yeah, I can try that. How did you know I liked those?” She sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed and halts her movement. “Just give me a minute,” she says, breathing in slowly through her nose.
“Saw them on your counter… Feeling sick?”
She nods. Poor thing. I get up and walk around the bed, standing in front of her and extending my hand. After a moment, she takes it, and I pull her to her feet.