“We can find out tomorrow if we wanna.”
I leant back and took in the glow of her skin and the sparkle that lit her eyes, it again hit me just how far she had deteriorated, and I sank a bit lower into my own guilt.
“You wanna?”
She shrugged her shoulders and gave a shy smile.
“I’m not sure. What’s happened today and the possibility of finding out the sex tomorrow have just made it all so real. We’re gonna be parents.” She said it with such wonder in her voice that my nose tingled and I smiled so hard it turned into a little chuckle.
“We’re gonna be great fucking parents.”
“The best.” She smiled back.
I was allowed home the following afternoon. We decided not to find out what we were having, wanting to keep it a surprise. Nan and Grandad stayed with us for the next two weeks, which actually worked out well. Liam was able to go into the office for the time that Luke was away, and then he worked mostly from home once Luke got back.
They finally held interviews at the office and took on two interns and a junior receptionist to work alongside Liz. All of which, meant they could finally spread the load somewhat. Liam’s refusal to travel for the rest of my pregnancy meant that Luke was clocking up the air miles, something he wholeheartedly agreed to do once he found out what had happened with me while Liam was in Scotland.
Apart from what had been administered while I was in the hospital, I was still refusing to take any kind of anti-nausea medication, but the sickness had mostly worn off, although I had ended up back in the hospital twice more because my doctors were worried about dehydration.
I was thirty-two weeks into my pregnancy, and my nan had finally given us permission to go out and buy a pushchair. We had strict instructions to not bring it into the house until after the baby was born, though. All of this because of some long-held superstition of hers. Seeing as it was my grandparents that were paying and those things were not cheap, believe me, we didn’t bother to argue. I was actually blown away that most of what we’d looked at cost more than my first, second, and third car.
“Sixteen hundred quid. Does it come with a chauffeur?” Liam joked as we stood in the baby shop, looking at more pushchairs/buggies/strollers whatever the name of the day was, I learned that it seemed to vary from store to store.
“I could buy him a second-hand car for less than that.”
I turned and gave him the evil eye as the sales lady demonstrated the one hold, fast fold feature of the ugly looking three-wheeled device.
“Is this really what you want?” Liam asked.
“Why, don’t you like it?”
He shrugged his shoulders, obviously thinking carefully before he spoke. The upside of this pregnancy had been my insatiable appetite for sex, the downside, apart from the sickness, was that just about everything made me cry.
“It’s not really . . . I mean . . . if it’s what you really want then got for it, but don’t you think it’s a bit . . .”
“What? A bit what? It’s a baby buggy, how do you want it to look?” I snapped.
“We do have a range of colours available, and you can also request a custom design, but it would require twelve weeks’ notice. When did you say you were due, dear?” Irene, the saleswoman, asked.
“Seventh of July,” Liam stated with a proud smile lighting up his handsome face. I smiled back, feeling both horny and teary at the same time, especially when Liam pulled me into his side and kissed my temple
“Well that’s out of the window then, you’ve only got eight weeks left. Would you like to look on the computer at the selection of colour options?”
“Anything’s gotta be better than that grey,” Luke told the sales lady.
We decided on red with a black trim. Luke and Archie would be pissed off since it was Manchester United’s colours and not Arsenal’s, but it was our kid and United were the team that Liam had adopted since he’d been living here. It was also universal and not too boyish or too girly.
We stood at the till point and gave our delivery details and payment. Liam had his arm loosely across my lower back, rubbing his fingertips over the curve of my hip and arse through the fabric of the little summer dress I had on. It was only mid-May, but we’d had a few warm sunny days and as I seemed to be running at about ten degrees warmer than everyone else right then, I was happier when I was wearing next to nothing. Funnily enough, this seemed to make my husband happier, too.
I was halfway through giving the lady our address when a sharp cramp-like pain shot through my lower belly. I had to stop talking so I could catch my breath. I stood upright and tried to take in air through my nose. Both hands instinctively went to my belly, and I splayed them out, hoping to contain the pain.
“You okay, bub?” Liam had stilled beside me.
“Wow. That was . . . shit.” I turned and looked up at him, but all I could do was shake my head as another pain ripped through me.
“Babe?” he questioned nervously.