Missy POV“Ready baby?” Adrian asks, helping me out of the wheelchair with one arm, his other hand holding our son who is sleeping in his carseat. The nurse waves goodbye to us at the door, then heads back into the hospital. “Yeah, but I feel like I’m wearing a diaper,” I complained, the chafing burning like you wouldn’t believe. “I’m going to look funny walking to the car.”He drove my mini van up to the curb, but I still have a good 30 feet to wobble, and I feel awkward and self-conscious walking in public. “You look hot in your diaper, babe,” Adrian tells me, kissing my head. “But lucky for me, you can’t tell you’re wearing one. Your coat is hiding all your goodies, so just watch your step and hold onto me until we get there.”I grin up at my amazing husband, so thankful for everything about him. Only he could make me believe that he really thinks I look hot in my oversized maxi pad and postpartum panties. This morning when I put my nursing bra on and had the cups unhooked while
Christmas Morning “Mommy!” Hailey hisses, shaking my shoulder. “Is Quinton awake?” I grumbled, not wanting to open my eyes yet. “Mama!” I felt little hands tapping my face. “Mama, up! Santa!” Landon says loudly. That’s right. It’s Christmas morning. We were up so late last night putting pieces of Hailey’s new doll house together, and setting up Landon’s new toddler roller coaster track around the living room that I forgot to set my alarm. “Where’s your dad,” I groaned as I rolled over, trying to force my eyes to open. “In Quinton’s room. He said to let you sleep until there was light in the sky, and now there is light in the sky!” I looked over at the window, and just as Hailey said, there was a small sliver of sunlight peeking above the trees. I chuckle hoarsely, my throat dry from sleep and the cold air, then somehow manage to find the strength to swing my legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. “Okay, I’m up,” I say as I stretch. Hailey jumps in the air, c
It's almost midnight, and I'm walking hurriedly down the grimy streets leading to Barry's apartment. The disappointment in his voice when I told him I wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t coming over has been plaguing me for hours. It was the night. The night we were supposed to connect for the first time. Intimately. Sex. We were going to have sex for the first time. My first time. I chickened out at the last minute, scared of the unknown. Now, I’m on my way to his place, finally finding the courage to take the leap. Barry and I have been dating for a couple of months, and I really like him. Maybe even love him. I’m scared, but I think I’m ready to finally do this. I have to be. We are about to move in together. Sleeping with him isn't as big of a commitment as that. I lived a very sheltered life before college. My parents were controlling, especially my dad. I was like a scared rabbit when I flew across the country to attend university in California. Barry helped me come out of my shell
This is not what I signed up for. When the realtor told me that this was a charming cottage, ready to move in but just needed a little TLC, she didn’t disclose the fact that it had busted pipes throughout, holes in the roof where rats, bats, and birds could and would get in, keeping me up all hours of the night. She also did not disclose that the doorknobs didn't all work and half of the light switches came with the added fun of trying to discover what they went to, because they sure and heck didn’t turn on any of the lights they were supposed to turn on. The kitchen light was in the dining room, the dining room light in the hallway, the living room had no lights but 5 light switches, and the front porch light could only be turned on in the bedroom. The front porch light also got tired. It would flicker off and back on throughout the night, scaring the life out of me with its audible click. The last few days, I’ve been buying water by the gallon and loading it up here, using it fo
It’s been a long day, and by the time Adrian leaves, I’m exhausted and ready for bed. It’s nice to have a shower that actually works, though it’s small. The water is clean and it makes me feel clean for the first time in weeks. I’m drying my hair with a towel, walking around the small trailer, examining its contents. There are pictures of a younger Adrian and a small girl holding up a couple of fish on fishing lines, going on hikes in a rocky canyon, and one with an older man with the same crystal blue eyes as Adrian with the young girl on his lap. It makes me smile seeing the irritating handyman looking so carefree and loved by his family. There are no pictures of a mom. Maybe she was the one taking the pictures. Men don’t think of stuff like taking pictures when on vacation. My mom used to hound my dad all the time for that very reason when I was younger. The memories of our vacations to Branson and Witchita Falls as a child bring remorseful tears to my eyes. I shake off the f
The next morning, I went to town to get groceries early in the morning, Joe waking me with the sun with his chirping and running around in the attic. Joe needs to go, or I’m taking my chances in the trailer’s bed tonight after thoroughly washing all the sheets. I stopped at the only coffee shop in town, planning on picking up a latte and blueberry muffin for breakfast. I recognized the girl behind the counter instantly from the pictures of her in the trailer. She is older than in the pictures, of course, but has the same ash blonde hair and blue eyes with adorable freckles underneath. Her easy smile looks a lot like Adrian’s. “Hi. What can I getcha?”I smiled at her bored tone. She is definitely related to my handyman. “Hi. Can I get a medium vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin?”“Out of blueberry. We got cranberry and banana left,” she mutters, tapping on her register screen.“Banana then,” I raised my eyebrows at her, expecting her to argue or roll her eyes. Instead, she offer
The past few days, I’ve been working hard to avoid Adrian. It’s not easy since I don’t have much to do. I took a trip to the book store yesterday and hung out at the coffee shop reading for most of the afternoon, but Brittany came in for the evening shift and the prying question started all over again.It’s the same in every small town. The smaller the population, the more people pry into your personal life, especially if you’re new to town. They want to know where you’re from, why you’re here, what you do, what you did before moving….every little detail down to your mother’s maiden name. It’s exhausting to answer the same questions over and over again. A woman in her forties named Dotty got almost hostile towards me the day before when I was hanging out at the diner and I wouldn’t tell her if I’d gotten a mammogram recently. Her cousin had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and she took it personally that I wasn’t as concerned about my boobs as she was. Today I’m going to start
Missy POVThankfully, Adrian left me alone for the most part the rest of the day. When I went in for lunch, making myself a quick sandwich, he merely smiled at me before leaving to go home for his lunch. He left at 5 PM on the dot with a quick wave and a “See you next week”. Maybe I was getting too worked up over nothing? Or maybe he realized I was done with his jokes and backed off? Whatever the reason, I’m more at ease being at home alone with him working here now. My bathroom works, but he asked me not to turn the water line back on until he could check the plumbing in the kitchen next week. I should have only one more weekend using the trailer’s restroom before I won’t need to anymore. I’m rifling through the kitchen after my shower, standing there in my PJs, trying to figure out something to eat for dinner. I’m getting sick of soup and sandwiches. A cheeseburger sounds so good right now. A cheeseburger with all the fixings and big slices of tomatoes. I stare into my empty fri