Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“You okay?” I can hear the concern in her voice. I missed these times with her. Just talking and being there for each other.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just running through my day tomorrow and mentally going over what still needs to be done to get this third location up and going.”
“You open in two weeks.”
“Yeah, when Gina messed up the scheduling, we had to push it back a little, but it ended up working out. Thankfully.”
“Harrison, I know you’re in this,” she tells me. “Don’t wear yourself out with worry about being home every night right on time. I know you’re going to need to put in some work at the gym. I’ll still be here when you get home.”
“I’ve got it covered,” I assure her. “I hired Gina for a reason. She’s on thin ice, but the work is getting done.”
“Are you being too hard on her?”
“No. I make her tasks clear. She knows what’s expected; she just doesn’t seem to care.”
“Maybe she’s having a hard time comprehending. Some people have learning disabilities they don’t let show.”
“Come on, Winnie. You and I both know that’s not the case.”
“I know you’re worried about me, and about the baby. I know you have a lot on your plate. Maybe Gina is taking the brunt of all that frustration?”
“Hardly. Trust me on this; she deserves it. I’m at my wit’s end with her. One more mistake and she’s gone. She’s stressing me out. The rest of it I can handle. I’m constantly watching my schedule, making sure our appointments are not sabotaged. It’s almost as if she’s doing it on purpose.” I finally speak the words I’ve been thinking for weeks out loud.
“Harrison, come on, you don’t really think that? She’s harmless.”
“I don’t want to talk about Gina. You think you can get back to sleep?” I ask her. I don’t want to upset her, but my gut tells me Gina is not who she wants us to believe.
“Yes.” She pauses. “After I use the bathroom again.”
“You just went.”
“Well, your daughter must be lying on my bladder because I need to go again.”
My daughter. I can’t wait to meet her. “You need help?” I offer. I hate that she’s doing all the hard work, and I’m just here watching, waiting to meet our baby that she’s growing.
“I can manage.” I hear the smile in her voice as her feet hit the hardwood floor and she pads her way to the bathroom.
When the bathroom door opens, I hold the covers up for her as she slides back into bed. My arms wrap around her, my hand resting on her belly. “Marry me,” I whisper into the darkness.
“I love you, Harrison Drake.”
“I love you too, Winnie. Night.” I kiss the back of her head.
“Goodnight.”
Today is our twenty-four-week appointment. That’s something I’ve learned. Pregnancy is referred to in weeks. We heard the heartbeat at the hospital and again at our first appointment at the OB/GYN office and we told our parents at twelve weeks, we found out we’re having a baby girl at twenty weeks. Winnie has this book about the stages of the baby’s growth. It says that currently our daughter is the size of an ear of corn, and should weigh a pound. It’s so hard for me to believe that my wife is growing a tiny human that we created.
Today’s appointment is early, and a long one. Something about glucose testing. So I’m driving us and will head to the gym later today. Chase is there to keep Gina in line. Not sure what happened with them a few weeks ago. He said he drove her home, without going in, but that’s not like Chase or Gina from what I can tell. They were all over each other on the boat, so it’s hard for me to believe he just dropped her off. Chase swears that’s all that happened, and I’ve known him for years; he’s never been one to lie.
“Winnie!” I yell up the stairs. “You about ready?”
“Yes,” she says, appearing at the top of the steps. She has on a pair of maternity jeans, that still make her look incredible, and a white tank top.
“Babe, it’s a little chilly out. You might want to grab a sweater.”
She holds up a pale pink sweater and grins. “I’m on it, Daddy.”
Daddy. We’ve gotten in the habit already of referring to each other as Mommy or Daddy. Every damn time she says it, my heart trips over in my chest. Sixteen more weeks and we can meet our little girl. Weeks and I’ll be responsible for a tiny human. Thankfully, I have Winnie. She’s great at everything, and I have no doubt motherhood will be the same.
“You’re beautiful,” I say when she reaches the last step. My hands go to her belly. I can’t pass up the opportunity to touch her, and our daughter. In the last four weeks, she’s really started to show. She looks like she’s swallowed a basketball. From the back, you can’t even tell she’s pregnant though.