Into the Storm

Dr. Sue laughed. “Well, I don’t think there’s any room for more in there, Joshua, so yes, one of each. Both are very healthy.”


I leaned down and kissed Rabbit, hard. Her eyes were filled with tears. “A Jack and a Bunny girl, Rabbit.” I grinned at her.

She laughed as I helped her to sit up. Dr. Sue handed us the latest pictures before she left the room and I stared down at them.

A son and a daughter.

I looked up at Rabbit’s tender expression. “Now we have to pick names from our top five, Joshua.”

I leaned forward. “I know which one I want for our daughter, Rabbit. You pick for our boy.”

She smiled and cupped my cheek. “Jack then. Jack Anthony Bennett.”

I grinned. “That’s a good, strong name for our son.”

Her voice was soft. “Danielle?”

I nodded. “Danielle Emily.” For my mother. My voice caught. “Elly.”

Rabbit smiled. “Perfect. Jack and Elly.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and wrapped my arms around Rabbit.

Jack and Elly.

Our children.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” I sighed eagerly. “How is it possible to love someone—two little someones—this much when you’ve never even seen them?” I looked down at Rabbit. “I didn’t know my heart could hold so much love, Rabbit.”

She smiled and cupped my face, her fingers stroking small circles on my cheeks. Her expressive eyes were filled with love and joy.

“I had no doubt, Joshua. No doubt at all.”





“No, I don’t want anything, Joshua.”

I sat back flummoxed. “Not even ice cream, Rabbit?” She always wanted ice cream.

“No.” Rabbit lay on her side, looking uncomfortable and upset.

I leaned forward and stroked her brow. “Does you head ache today?” I asked softly.

Rabbit shook her head but I saw the tears that slipped out from behind her closed lids. My heart clenched at the sight. Dr. Sue wanted her calm. Relaxed. Rabbit’s blood pressure had been all over the map; she had developed pre-eclampsia and was now on bed rest. Bright lights bothered her and she had a lot of headaches. She had been so brave and determinedly cheerful at first, but the past few days her emotions had been ragged.

“Rabbit …”

She began crying in earnest. I stretched out behind her and wrapped my arms around her, my hand rubbing her tummy, as I whispered soft hushing noises into her ear. “Soon, Rabbit. Dr. Sue says just another couple weeks and she’ll do a C-section. You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer,” I pleaded gently. “Please, Rabbit, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so … tired of lying here. I’m tired of the headaches and the nausea. I want to go outside. I want to go for a walk. I want to sleep on my back. I want to make love to you. I want to wake up with my head buried in your chest and your arms around me. I want to bake you a pie! I’m just so useless!” The last words came out in a high-pitched whimper.

I smiled into her hair. “I want you to bake me a pie too, Rabbit. I haven’t had pie for three weeks,” I whined into her ear. “And I miss your face buried in my chest as well. Nothing is sexier than feeling you drooling on me in the morning,” I chuckled lowly. “And you haven’t rubbed my … leg … in days,” I whispered. “All you do is lie here, looking beautiful and pregnant. You get to be all glowy and eat ice cream. I have to walk Bear alone and talk to Cecilia every single day now.”

“Stop it,” she half sobbed, half giggled.

“Stop what?” I asked innocently as I nibbled her ear gently. “Seriously, woman, you are so lazy. Lying here, denying me the drooling and the rubbing and the pie … letting the world revolve around you while you only do one little thing.” My arms tightened around her. “Protect and nourish our children. I mean really, Rabbit, how utterly … selfish … of you.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I doing that?”

She sighed deeply. I felt the shudder run through her body at the same time someone started kicking. I smiled and rubbed my hand over the movement. “Someone wants Mommy to calm down,” I whispered. “They don’t like it when she’s upset.” I paused, my voice turning serious. “Neither do I.”

Reaching over, I turned her face to mine, my fingers stroking her tear-stained face. “I know this is hard, Rabbit. But you’re doing so well. Tell me what you need to make it easier. Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything, my pretty girl. Anything. But please don’t cry.”

“I don’t know what I want. I just feel so …” Her shoulders shrugged. “Just ignore me, Joshua. I’ll feel better in a little while. “

“No, I won’t ignore you. This isn’t like you, Rabbit. There has to be something I can do. You need a change of scenery or something,” I insisted.

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