Authors: Liz Crowe
Over the past couple months, Hank and Ollie had gotten past
any insecurity over each other’s place in my life, but my cowboy was not
compromising on Oliver’s intrusive ways. He would not accept the man coming
into our room to wake me. He also preferred he not be anywhere near our morning
routine of getting ready. Bought me a silk robe for every day of the week, too,
so that I wouldn’t be traipsing around in front of my best friend naked
anymore. I knew he wasn’t being controlling, he just had old-fashioned morals
and appreciated modesty more than I did.
“You ready to get your shit fixed?” Ollie asked as he handed
me a black pantsuit and a silver silk blouse.
“Honestly, Ollie, I know you mean well, but there’s nothing
wrong with me. I’m just tired. We’ve all been working ourselves to the bone,
and Hank and I often choose to spend the evenings wrapped up in one another
instead of getting that much needed sleep.”
He smirked. “Uh huh. Whatever. I’ve heard of people like you
who have been exhausted all the time, with extreme levels of fatigue, and they
had cancer!” He put his hands on his hips.
“What the hell, Ollie? That’s a messed-up thing to say. Are
you trying to scare me?”
“Hell yes! I’m scared as shit. You have no idea how many
diseases Web MD says you have right now!” His tone was serious but his eyes
told another story.
“You’re full of it. I’ll go to the damn doctor. Stop
diagnosing me, for crying out loud. I don’t have cancer; I’m just under the
weather. I probably have the flu.”
“You could have walking pneumonia and not even know it!”
I rolled my eyes. “Ollie,” I warned. “Call the limo around,
please.”
Ollie meant well, but sometimes he could take the cake with
his ridiculous ideas. But there was a modicum of truth to his thoughts. I had
felt like death warmed over for the better part of two months now. It had to be
stress and fatigue. Could I handle if it was something more serious? Cancer?
No, no, no. My best friend just had me freaking out for no reason. Walking
pneumonia. Was that a possibility? I had been on a ten-day course of
antibiotics for a sinus infection shortly after we went to Coney Island. Maybe
I just needed another round.
A couple of hours later, the doctor led me back out into the
waiting room to meet up with Ollie. I’d forced him to stay there, even though
it took the promise of a night at one of New York’s finest restaurants for the
four of us to get him to agree. Sometimes my best friend hovered like a
helicopter mom. This time I was grateful for his protectiveness. One look at my
pale face and he ushered me out and into the limo.
“Pen, okay. I’m ready. What’s wrong?” his eyes were filled
with unshed tears. “You’re white as a ghost, tell me!” he screamed.
I handed him the piece of paper that sealed my fate.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”
My Angel was quiet—too quiet—as she sat and looked out the
window of the limo. We had dinner reservations at a fancy-pants restaurant
uptown. I didn’t quite hate the city anymore, but I could definitely live
without the hustle and bustle of the traffic, people always in a hurry, running
into one another, and all the gourmet crap. Every time we ate out at one of the
places Aspen chose, I always left hungry. We’d have to stop by Fat Johnny’s Hot
Dog Stand on the way home. A big man like me didn’t fill up on a speck of meat
and a few stalks of asparagus. I needed a ten or twelve ounce steak, a ladleful
of mashed potatoes, and a heap of corn to fill the gullet. Throw in a couple
pints and you had a happy man.
“Darlin’, what’s the matter?”
“Hmmm?”
“I asked you what’s peckin’ at your brain.”
“I love you, Hank. All your pieces.” She smiled, but it was
strange and completely out of the blue.
“Tell me, Angel. What’s the matter? What did the doctor say
today? You sick?”
My gut twisted at the thought of my girl being sick. I'd
been nervous all day waitin’ to find out the results of all the tests she was
gonna have. Oliver had me in a fit with all his printouts from some doctor
website that claimed she could have a hundred different diseases … many of
which ended in early death. Sweat broke out on my forehead; the hairs on my
neck stood at attention as I prepared to hear the worst.
She looked out the window as we arrived at the location.
“Let’s chat inside. I’m hungry,” she said as she pulled across me and hopped
out.
I took a deep breath and followed the love of my life
inside, hoping to God whatever ailed her could be cured.
Please, God in
Heaven, don’t take away the Angel you sent now that I’ve got her back.
We settled into her preferred table. Having tons of money
got her into all kinds of special places. I couldn’t care less, but she seemed
to enjoy it, and I enjoyed her being happy.
I ordered a beer and she bypassed the wine, which added to
my theory that my life was about to change. She took her time ordering her
dinner, substituting fish for chicken, which was strange. She loved seafood and
ordered it on most occasions when we ate out. She looked at everyone but me.
Those damned alarm bells were chiming like mad.
Gripping her hand over the table, I tugged it and forced her
to look at me. “You’re killin’ me, Angel. Are you sick?”
“Nothing that won’t go away after six or seven months,” she
said.
“Do you need surgery on something?” My mind was scrambling
around, trying to connect the dots, figure out what could possibly need that
amount of healing. Hell, even my shoulder was healed up after three months for
the most part. “I’m not following.”
“I’m nervous, Stud. Give me a minute.” Nervous Aspen was a
new thing. This was not a side to her I’d seen often. She was sitting across from
me acting shy, and she looked pale and uncertain. Even her eyes didn’t hold the
same fire. I couldn’t imagine what was making her act this way, but I was
scared shitless to find out.
A small smile was on her lips and that tiny little quirk of
her lips acted like a balm on my own nerves. She took a deep breath and started
again. “Since we’ve been together, you’ve made it clear that there were a
couple things that would make you the happiest man on earth. Do you remember
what you said those were?”
I had no idea where she was going with this, but she bit
down on her lip and reached into her purse. She pulled out a piece of paper and
the coveted blue velvet box I hadn’t seen in almost three months. My heart
started beating so hard in my chest I thought that it was possible to hear it
thumping across the room.
“Angel,” I whispered.
“Look inside,” she smiled. I grabbed the box and opened it.
Inside were two rings. One was a huge square diamond with three circle diamonds
hugging the square on each side. I pulled it out and inspected it. It was
obviously for her. She smiled when I slipped it on the edge of my pinky finger
to examine it. “Pretty nice.” I smiled and she nodded.
The other ring was a band with the whitest gold I’d ever
seen. Running through the inside was a raised rope of metal, like one we’d use
on roping our cattle back home. “So, does this mean you’re asking me to marry
ya?”
Her smile fell and she slowly pushed a small piece of paper
across the table. Her finger held whatever it was face-down. After what seemed
like forever, her gaze lifted to mine and what I saw there broke me. She had
huge tears in her eyes, but wasn’t letting them fall.
“That depends, Hank. If you still want to marry me after you
see what’s on the other side of this piece of paper. The deal is, you ask me
and in turn, I will ask you.”
I feared the little square of paper, but whatever it was, it
didn’t matter. Even if she had a terminal illness and I only had one more day
with her, there would have been nothin’ I wanted more than to marry my Angel.
Her hand was chilled as I covered it with my larger one. “Angel, I will marry
you no matter what. There is nothing I want more in life than to be with you.
Forever.”
“Look at it, Hank. Please. ” Her lip quivered, a tear fell,
and I turned over the piece of paper. It was black and white and showed a white
grainy blob in the center of a dark circle. Like someone had tried to erase
black ink off a piece of paper and pressed too hard and got a hazy white smudge
for their effort. Aspen’s name was on the top left hand, her doctor’s
information on the other side.
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “What am I
lookin’ at, darlin’?”
“That’s a picture of our baby.” My eyes shot to hers. Huge
tears poured down the sides of her face. Her lips trembled and she licked them.
I wanted to kiss them, hug her, laugh with joy and scream. I did none of that.
The only thing I could do was stare at the perfect little blob in the grainy
image. My child. Our baby.
“Angel, I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you want to marry me,” she urged, and I could tell that
she was scared this news would make me not want her. God only knew what was
going on in that head of hers, but nothing could be further from the truth.
“I want to marry you.” I said with as much conviction as my
emotions would allow. My voice was strained but loud enough for her to hear.
“Say you’ll marry me,” she asked and clutched my hand with
hers.
“I’ll marry you.”
“Okay,” she whispered with a tentative smile.
“Okay, when?” I asked, gripping her lovely hands to mine,
waiting for the moment when I could kiss her.
“I don’t know?” She was beautiful when she was confused. She
was always beautiful.
“Tomorrow?” My smile must have reached my ears because she
stood up.
“No. Soon though.” She laughed lightly.
“Okay. Can I kiss you now?”
Her smile melted my heart. I stood and pulled her out of her
chair. My hands cupped her face. “You’ve made me happier than I ever dreamed.
Thank you.”
And I kissed her. I kissed her as if I’d never get the
chance again. I kissed her as though the world was ending when it had only
truly just begun. Our worlds were colliding in the best possible way. I’d
always remember the day that my Angel fell into my arms. The day she agreed to
become my wife. The day she told me I was going to be a father.
“How pregnant are we?” I asked, cupping my hand over her
belly. If I focused really hard I imagined I could barely feel an outline of a
little something growing there. My baby.
“We’re about nine weeks. I didn’t even realize I’d missed my
cycle last month completely. With all the work and … ” I put my fingers over
her lips.
“Angel, don’t. This is the best news of my life.” I pulled
her hand and slipped on her engagement ring. She grabbed the box and slipped my
ring on my left finger. It fit perfectly. “Shouldn’t we wait for the ceremony
for mine? Isn’t that custom?”
“It’s customary to have a ring when you propose. I asked you
and you agreed. You going to tell me you won’t wear my ring?” Her eyebrows
pinched together and her mouth set into a pout.
“Not a chance. I’ll wear it proudly. I love you so much.” I
whispered against her lips and kissed her. Then I dropped down to my knees in
the middle of the restaurant and held her stomach to my face. I nuzzled her
belly and kissed the entire surface. She swatted my hands away when I tried to
lift her shirt to kiss her bare skin. I wanted nothing but my Angel’s flesh
between me and connecting with our baby.
“Hank, you’re making a scene.” She was right. The entire
restaurant was watching us. I couldn’t sit here and have dinner. Excitement
about getting married, about having our baby, was flooding me and filling my
thoughts to the brim.
“Let’s go!” I pulled on her and ushered her out and into the
street.
We made it home in record time, probably because I was threatening
the limo driver every five seconds to hurry up or he was going to get a boot up
his ass. He didn’t disappoint.
We went straight into the bedroom. Without a word, I
stripped her of all her clothes then laid her bare on our bed. I removed all of
my clothing and surveyed her entire body. Now that I was paying close
attention, there were very subtle changes.
The fullness of her breasts, the soft glow of her skin, her
stomach even looked as if it had rounded out just a hair. Though it was
probably wishful thinking. I straddled Aspen and planted my face on top of her
belly. I spread my hand out over the entire expanse and looked at her in awe.
“You know, pretty soon you won’t be able to cover that space
with your hands,” she said.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my
child.” I slid my hands all over her bare skin. “Hell, darlin’, it makes me
rock hard just thinking about it.”
“A man who’s turned on by pregnancy.” She laughed but
enjoyed my hands on her.
I spent the evening worshiping every inch of my pregnant
fiancée. Knowing I was going to do so for the rest of my life only made the
world seem that much sweeter.
She slept through the night, and in the wee hours of the
mornin’ I stared at our baby’s picture. It didn’t look like a baby yet, but it
was still the most beautiful thing I’d seen aside from my girl.
“You still looking at that picture, Stud?” she asked, then
stretched out and put her head on my chest.
“I just can’t believe it. Ma is going to go through the
roof. You better get ready for a visit, because once she finds out you’re
expecting and we’re gettin’ married the whole lot of em’ will be coming to New
York.”
She kissed my chest and tilted her head up. “I thought maybe
we could get married at the ranch. The landscape is beautiful. Just invite our
families and our good friends. Keep it small. I’ll be a pregnant bride unless
we want to wait until after the baby is born,” she said.
“Oh, hell no. My baby is not entering the world a bastard.
We’re getting married, and fast!” There was no budging on this one. The sooner
the better in my opinion. If Ma wasn’t going to be so happy about getting a new
grand she’d be lecturing us until the wedding day about getting pregnant before
the wedding.