Just A Small Town Girl (25 page)

36 weeks:

“I’m just saying he’s the most perfect boyfriend a girl could have,” Bailey announced, sighing and leaning back into the vibrating massage chair.

I smiled back at her, happy for her relationship with Dustin, before settling into my own chair.

“You make me sick,” June put her finger to her mouth and made choking sounds.

We were getting pedicures and I was in the middle of seeking sweet relief for my aching spine. I had left to meet them right after work and was truly grateful for the invitation.

“You’ll meet someone eventually,” I mumbled without opening my eyes, “then you’ll be just as sickening as she is.”

“What ever happened with Kyle?” Bailey twanged out her question, raising an eyebrow at June.

“We were never serious,” June shrugged, “plus he’s always away and I can’t do long distance.”

“Maybe when the guys get back you can try again?” Bailey didn’t even try to hide her enthusiasm at the fact that the boys were coming home for two entire months in three short days.

June sniffed at the idea, turning the vibrations up on her chair. 

Half an hour later I returned to my apartment, fully polished and pampered. Bailey went over to Fisher’s apartment with June while I retired to my own apartment, promising to return for a Channing Tatum movie marathon after I took a nap (I was allowed to do things like that, pregnant ladies get food breaks and naps whenever they want). I stepped around my living room, straightening a few things before I finally gave in and scooped up my cell phone.

Fisher had been texting me at least once a day since the missed appointment last month and he’d been uncharacteristically quiet all day. In a twisted way I didn’t want to miss any messages from him even though I never responded. Those messages told me he cared, even when I wasn’t easy to care about. They told me even though I was taking my time deciding whether or not to forgive him he would wait for me to make up my mind.

I was shrugging off my jacket and scrolling through my texts when I crossed the threshold into my bedroom. When I finally looked up at the room my heart stopped and I couldn’t help staring at the man draped across my bed. Fisher was fast asleep in the center of my mattress and I had to rub my eyes to make sure he wasn’t a hallucination conjured by my pregnant brain. He was all arms and legs thrown haphazardly around and he was all mine. Tears began to fall from my eyes as I stepped around the edge of the bed and came to stand at his side. He’d always been my strength, so it was odd to see him so peaceful and vulnerable, especially after being without him for weeks. I traced my fingers along the stubble on his chin and his calloused fingers came up to wrap around my wrist.

“Hey baby,” his voice was sleepy as his eyes opened slowly.

“You’re here?” my voice cracked.

“I’m here,” he echoed, a smile playing across his lips, “I came early to be here with you.”

“I missed you,” I couldn’t help sobbing the words out and he pulled my body onto the bed with him.

“I missed you too, you’re so beautiful.”

“I’m fat,” I sobbed out, wishing I could greet him after our time apart in something sexy that would make him miss me even more next time.

“You’re perfect,” he laid me on the bed and leaned over my body to kiss my lips before bunching my shirt below my breasts and leaning down to kiss my stomach.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the perfect one,” I whispered when his lips returned to mine and his thumbs brushed away the last of my tears, “I’m so sorry.”

He silenced me with a kiss, “I’m sorry too, I know you wanted me here for that last appointment. It was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made.”

Fisher gathered me into his arms, pulling my massive body onto his chest and wrapping his arms around my expanding waist. I looked up at his face, running a hand along his scratchy jaw. I couldn’t believe he was there and he was mine. We’d finally given in to the feelings we’d been struggling against since the day we met. The power of knowing what we had was real and we’d earned it.

Fisher pulled back the blankets and pulled me under, curling around my body with our foreheads touching when I was settled.

“Does the fact that I came to surprise you before I saw my son make me a bad father?”

Through my closed eyes I assumed he was joking, but the second I flipped them open I recognized the genuine concern in Fisher’s eyes.

“You’re an amazing father Fisher,” I ran my hand down his arm where it wrapped around my waist, “You love Riley and Lia so much and you gave up so much to be a Father to Riley. You’re going to be great with Lia and they both love you so much already,” I leaned forward to kiss his lips, silently saying I loved him too, and the tension seemed to seep out of his body.

“Hey Junior,” Fisher laughed out, swinging his sister’s body side to side, “I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” June hid her teary eyes in Fisher’s shoulder and he squeezed her tighter, giving her time to gather herself. When she was done he dropped her feet to the floor and June stepped away, giving Bailey a chance to offer Fisher a hug.

“You might want to go home yourself,” Fisher answered Bailey’s unspoken question with a wink.

“I have to go see my man,” she squealed, squeezing Fisher once before offering me a matching squeeze and bouncing out of the room.

“Daddy!” Riley squealed in a way that wasn’t so different from Bailey’s excited outburst.

I watched the two most important males in my life embrace, Riley running into his father’s arms and throwing his chubby little appendages around the bigger man’s neck.

“I missed you little monster,” Fisher squeezed his boy tight in his arms while I watched.

“Daddy,” Riley almost sighed into his father’s chest, snuggling in while Fisher rose to his feet, lifting them both and taking a step toward me. I wrapped my arms around both of my boys and smiled sweetly at the perfection of having my own little family.

“Perfect,” June whispered, lifting her giant Nikon to her eye and snapping several photos in succession.

“How’s the camera working out?” Fisher asked, stepping out of my arms and close to his sister.

“I love it!” she squealed. “You’re the absolute best,” she raised the camera to her eye once again and snapped a few more photos of Fisher at close range.

“I’m glad you like it,” he smiled. I knew Fisher had bought the camera for June in hopes she would capture photo evidence of the moments he was missing in Riley’s life and also to encourage her pursuit of photography. She was taking photos of Riley as promised, but she was also getting amazing shots of landscapes, random people around town, and my developing belly. Her photographs were beautiful, captivating, nostalgic, and just plain good. I loved that Fisher believed in her enough to support her art.

“Let me take Riley and you can show him all of your photos,” I interrupted June gushing about all of the settings her camera had and pulled Riley from Fisher’s arms.

Riley and I sat on the couch, reading a cardboard book about a rainbow while they chatted animatedly behind us, Fisher oooing and ahhing at the appropriate times.

We spent the evening like that, Fisher dividing his time equally between playing with Riley and catching up with June. I sat back, playing with the baby and watching the dynamic between brother and sister, father and son.

June whipped us up a quick hamburger helper dinner when Lia started forcing my tummy to make ridiculous sounds demanding I consume enough noodle and beef to feed a small army. We all sat around the table in familial harmony before putting Riley to bed. Once our little boy was bathed and sleeping, Fisher sat in the living room playing guitar while June snapped photos and I watched, letting the music flow through me until it settled in my heart, feeling like home.

“Come on baby, time to get you to bed,” Fisher murmured after the fourth time I yawned uncontrollably.

“No, you two stay, catch-up, I’ll go to bed,” I pushed myself up from the couch and took a step toward the door.

“I don’t think so,” Fisher caught my hand and pulled my body back into his, pressing his lips against my head, “I’ve been away from you for too long already.”

June gagged loudly, “I’m going to bed anyways, see you disgusting freaks tomorrow,” she mumbled, waving goodbye before heading down the hall to Fisher’s bedroom she’d taken up as her own in his absence.

“Let me take you to bed Piper,” Fisher’s voice dropped to a near growl as he towed me across the hall and into my apartment. As soon as the front door was closed, he pressed my back to it, his fingers wrapped around my thighs and he lifted my body until my mouth was level with his.

“Fuck, I missed you baby,” he murmured before pressing his lips to mine, his tongue almost instantly begging for entrance.

I kissed him back, a little worried I was too heavy for him as his upper body leaned over my belly, so our tongues could connect and dance. My fingers ran through his shaggy hair and down across his shoulders. I wanted to touch every part of him, to catalogue each piece of the man I loved to make sure he was returning to me whole. I ran my hands across his chest and around my belly to the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up and over our heads.

Fisher grumbled as our mouths parted, but dove into my neck, nipping, kissing, and making me expel sounds I wasn’t aware I was capable of making. He stepped closer, pinning my body to the door with his weight, and dropped one hand from my thighs, using that talented appendage to unbutton my shirt and shove it down around the shoulder closest to his voracious lips.

Fisher’s teeth ran along my collarbone and down toward my breasts. I was suddenly embarrassed by my larger chest and the maternity bra I wore.

“Fisher,” I moaned.

He grunted and continued his descent toward the nearest swell of flesh.

I cleared my throat and tried again, “Fisher, give me a minute,” I pushed on his shoulders and he stepped back, being careful to lower my legs to the floor before removing his weight.

“Everything okay?” he asked, concern erasing the lust from his eyes.

“Yeah,” I looked at the floor, “I just need a minute.”

I speed walked to the bedroom, not sure what I was planning to do, but I didn’t have to figure that out because my reflection in the rectangular mirror above my dresser caught my eye the moment I entered the room. I took a few tentative steps toward the mirror and took in my appearance; giant boobs with ever expanding and darkening nipples hidden by a boring cream bra and downright obtrusive stomach littered with stretch marks. I was hideous and despite never being a particularly vain individual, the thought brought gut wrenching tears to my eyes.

“What’s wrong Piper?” Fisher asked, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and attempting to meet my eyes in the mirror. The juxtaposition of his perfection against my flaws only made the tears come harder.

“I’m ugly,” I hiccupped out.

“What?” Fisher did a good job of hiding the amusement from his voice, “You’re beautiful Piper.”

I shook my head, crying harder and turning away from the mirror.

“What about you is ugly?” he asked, touching his fingers to my chin and tipping my face up, so he could look into my eyes.

His gaze settled me and I whimpered out an answer, “My stomach.”

Fisher dragged the shirt from my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor behind me, and fell to his knees.

“This,” he traced his fingers along the taunt skin of my belly, “is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. That is a piece of you and a piece of me growing in there. This is you making our future; that is our lives in there.”

“But the marks,” I wailed, he wasn’t understanding.

“These marks,” he kissed a few, “these are marks of approval Baby,” he kissed a few more, “These mean you are doing a great job growing our child, they are like gold stars put there by nature.” He kissed a few more, “They are like the rings on a tree, telling us how long our baby has been in there and how strong she is, how strong both of you are,” he kissed the remaining marks.

I cradled his head in my hands, using my grip to urge him to stand then pulling his face down to mine.

“Was that all?” he asked, pulling away from the briefest of kisses.

“No,” I let my hands fall away from his face, “You haven’t seen what I’m hiding under here,” I gestured at my chest.

“But I want to,” he smiled lecherously.

“No you don’t” I cried, “They’re too big and my nipples are freakishly huge and they’re dark. I don’t look like I did when you left,” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Let me see,” Fisher asked, his voice tender.

I didn’t undress for him, but I did let my arms fall after several seconds of staring into his eyes.

Fisher reached around my back and undid the multitude of clasps that would free my breasts. He pulled the functional cotton material away from my body and my hands instinctively rose to cup one in each hand, or as much as I could, shielding myself from his view.

“Please?” he whispered in my ear, gently trailing his fingers down my arms.