November 29th

Thanksgiving was stressful with having to tell my parents about the baby. I’m not sure what I would have done without Rissa to help calm my dad down. If he was a couple of decades younger, I’m pretty sure he’d challenge Derek to a duel or something. A second helping of pecan pie and many reminders that stress isn’t good for the baby are what finally calmed him down. Now, Rissa is on a plane home and I have a fridge full of leftovers.

Stretching my arms over my head, I lean to one side, and then the next. I may have splurged on a desk chair with all the back support options possible, but if I’m in it long enough, I still get stiff. After this recording session, I’ll take a hot shower to soothe my aching muscles.

The doorbell rings and I want to smack myself when I remember Gideon said he was stopping by. Pushing back from my desk, I beeline it to my bedroom to pull on a sweater and pair of boots.

Then I make my way to the front door and open it. “Hi Gideon.”

He steps inside and watches as I shrug on my coat and reach for my purse. “Were you leaving?”

I skirt him so that I’m now in the doorway. “Yep, got to dash. Just lock up after yourself once you’re done.”

I pull the door closed behind me and don’t look back at the house until I’m in my car.

Crap, where can I go kill a few hours?

December 5th

I’m bringing a trash bag out to the bin when Gideon’s truck parks in front of my house.

Geez, he’s already back?

Hefting the bag into the bin, I decide today would be a perfect day to surprise grandpa with a visit. Doing my best to appear casual, I stroll back to my front door and wait for Gideon on the porch.

“Hi Gideon. What are you working on today?”

He holds up a bucket. “I’m going to patch the cracks in the spare bedroom.”

We walk in together but he doesn’t notice when I stop.

He’s halfway into my living room when he looks back at me.

Pulling on my coat, purse in hand, I wave bye. “I was on my way out. See you later.”

His eyes widen and he starts toward me but I shut the door and hurry to my car.

December 12th

When I hear the bell ring, I rush to the front window and peek through the blinds.

“Again?” I ask myself when I see Gideon’s truck.

Just my luck, what on earth could he be fixing now?

Frozen, I’m torn between going to my bathroom to wash off the mud mask I just applied, or answering the front door.

The bell rings again.

Gideon Thompson has the worst timing ever.

I race to the kitchen sink and start washing my face. He might question why it took me so long to answer the door but, at least I can make my escape then. There’s no way he’d believe I’d run errands with a face mask on.

With no mirror to check if I got all of it, I use a paper towel to dry my face.

“Are you okay?” Gideon asks when I open the door.

I nod. “Sorry, I was editing a scene.”

He cringes. “Did the bell ringing mess with what you were working on?”

I’m surprised he’d even consider it could. “No, I was cutting a part I messed up.”

The stress line across his forehead fades. “Good.”

“Come on in. I have to run a couple of errands so you’ll have the place to yourself while you work.”

He thankfully doesn’t say a word or try and stop me as I leave.

December 20th

“Are you showing yet?”

Phone to my ear, I turn and check out my profile in my full-length mirror. “A little bit, but it’s winter so I’m living in baggy sweaters right now.”

“Other than your parents and grandpa, does anyone else know?”

Rissa is fishing and we both know it. What she should have asked was, does Gideon know?

My gaze remains on my reflection and I watch my hand smooth over my now slightly rounded middle. “No one else knows.”

“Lu.”

“What? It’s not like I’m that close with anyone here yet. What did you expect?”

There’s an exhale, one I can tell from previous experience is an aggravated one. “Has Gideon been around?”

Turning away from the mirror, I climb onto my bed. “He’s been in and out.”

“Well, why haven’t you told him?”

Finally, she’s being more direct. “Well, when he’s in, I make a point to be out.”

“What is wrong with you?”

What’s wrong with me?

There’re only a million possible answers to that question. If I could narrow the list down I might be able to fix the train wreck that is my life.

Falling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling. “Babe, I’m in shoveling shit mode. All I’m focused on is working my ass off. For every book I can squeeze into my schedule, I can pad my bank account a little bit more.”

“I get that you’re shoveling shit. I just don’t think you have to be doing it alone when it seems like Gideon could be there for you. Why won’t you admit you like him?”

Gideon is...

Kind

Sweet

Hot

Funny

Amazing

Perfect

Gideon, no matter how much as the people in my life want to push me toward him, does not need a pregnant headcase.

“Why are you acting like you need to panic? You’re months and months away from your delivery.”

She so doesn’t get it. “Months are not years. Come on, you know how expensive healthcare is. If I have any complications I’m going to be out of pocket on those and then, even if everything goes perfectly, my rate will go up a ton once the baby is here.”

It’s wrong to compare but, all she’s worried about at the moment is last minute Christmas presents.

I have to plan for different things right now so I can be prepared for the future.

“You need someone local to be able to share your load.”

Share my load?

Bolting uptight, my blood pressure rising, I ask, “Are you joking? There’s no way I could do that. I support myself.”

If she were here, and not thousands of miles away, I’d throw something at her.

“Don’t assume I was talking about money. Geez, you are so sensitive right now. I meant emotional support. Someone you can vent to in person.”

My anger evaporates. “I don’t need that.”

“Everyone needs that,” she counters.

“Fine, in that case I have my grandpa.”

“Stop lying just to try and win an argument. You’re not going to dump your mental crap on him because you won’t want to bother him with any of it.”

She’s right. “That’s not true.”

Her laughter comes through the phone before she says, “Prove it. Have you told him you’ve sped up your narrating schedule to increase your income?”

I hate the way she can see right through the white lies I even tell myself. “I haven’t.”

“You need a person.”

“I thought you were my person.”

She sighs. “You need an extra person.”

At least she didn’t dispute what I said. “Okay, I’ll make a local girlfriend.”

“Who?”

As I rack my brain to see if I know any women not connected with Gideon, I get up to get some water. My body is adjusting to the extra hours behind my microphone. I’m drinking more water, and hot tea with honey, than ever.

“I’ll find someone.”

“Why not Abby, Finley, or Paige?”

Grrr. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. Getting close to his family would only further complicate things.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You still love me.”

Before she can say anything else, I decide now is the perfect opportunity for a subject change. “How goes the Japanese boyfriend search?”

She laughs, the happy sound of it making me smile.

“Apart from creating a visual board of my favorite actors and models, nowhere.”

“You made a vision board to find a new boyfriend?”

Why am I not surprised?

“I did. Hey, maybe you should make a vision board.”

I finish my glass and refill it. “I don’t think I need one.”

“Come on, they’re an awesome way to tell the universe what you want. Like right now, what’s the one thing you want most in the world?”

I don’t hesitate. “Money.”

I can sense her eye roll. “Fine, money, but what’s important is you need to picture in your mind what you’d do with the money.”

“All I want is to save it, not spend any of it.”

“That’s so uninspired. Just imagine all the things you could do with a big wad of cash. You could vision board out how you’ll decorate the baby’s room, and some play gyms for the backyard. Hell, go big and dream build an entire house.”

Now, planning out the baby’s room and some fun toys isn’t a bad idea. An entire house on the other hand, is.

“I’d build this house.”

She scoffs. “All the money in the world and you’d stay right where you are?”

“Yep.”

The doorbell rings, making me jump. “Hey Rissa, I have to go, someone’s at the door.”

“All right. I’ll text you a pic of my board. Let me know what you think.”

Phone still to my ear, I move toward the entrance. “I will. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Slipping my phone into the front pouch of my hoodie, I lean to look through the peephole and am surprised to see Abby on the other side.

What on earth could she want?

Pulling open the front door, I push the screen door out in invitation. “Hey.”

She steps in, holding her arms out wide for a hug. “Sorry to drop by unexpectedly.”

Awkwardly, I step into her embrace. “It’s good to see you.”

“I should have called first. Is now a good time?”

There’s no reason to avoid her. “Now is great.”

She gives me a squeeze before taking a step away. “Awesome, Gideon is on the way with food.”

My eyes bug. “What?”

She slips her arm through mine and leads me into my living room. “We thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”

Is this Gideon’s way of getting around my whole avoiding him strategy?

It’d not only be rude but obvious if I tried to bail on them now. “You guys didn’t have to do that.”

Releasing my arm, she gracefully lowers herself onto my couch and gestures for me to join her. “Gideon mentioned you’ve been busy. This is our way of forcing you to take it easy for a bit.”

Kind with a touch of overbearing, and exactly what my mom would be doing if she still lived in New Hampshire. “Did my mom or grandpa put you up to this?”

Even though it’s a joke, I wouldn’t be shocked if she says yes.

She shakes her head with a laugh. “Nope, it was all Gideon’s idea.”

I see.

The doorbell rings. Speak of the devil.

Abby jumps up. “I’ll get it.”

Willing to take the extra minute or two before I’ll have to interact with her brother, I let her.

“Hey Gid,” She says as she lets him in.

He’s carrying a couple takeout bags, and whatever is in them smells amazing. Maybe I’ll forgive their little ploy since there’s food involved.

Abby takes the bags from him and heads to the kitchen with them. I should help her but around this time every day my energy level plummets.

Gideon stands in front of me. “I figured you’d be busy. It’s lucky we caught you at a good time.”

So annoying.

“Lucky,” I manage.

He grins at me. Bastard knows he beat me at my own game.

“Gideon, come give me a hand,” Abby calls.

He winks at me — freaking winks at me — before walking out of the room.

If I had enough energy to get off of the couch, I’d consider killing him.

I feel bad for not helping them but console myself with the fact they showed up unannounced. Sure, two wrongs don’t make a right but it does ease my guilt.

Abby returns and sets a plate of buffalo wings in front of me. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Gideon’s ability to pinpoint my food cravings is somewhat unnerving.

Gideon is a couple steps behind her, carrying two more plates.

It’s his eyes I find. “I am. Thank you.”

Once all of the food is laid out on my coffee table, Abby surprises me by walking away. “I want to check out the spare bathroom remodel before I forget.”

Gideon stares after her. “The bathroom isn’t going anywhere.”

He looks back at me. “What would you like to drink?”

I start to stand. “I can get it.”

He makes to stop me but I avoid him and move as fast as my exhausted body can take me.

I’m winded by the time I reach the fridge and use the door handle to help hold myself upright. God, why am I so stubborn.

Pulling the door open, I force my voice to sound cheerful as I ask, “Want a beer?”

The heat of his chest warms my back as he reaches around to grab two beers.

Is one of those for me? “I was going to have water.”

He sets both cans on the counter and again reaches into the fridge, this time to pull out my water pitcher. I close the door and lean against it as he pours me a glass.

With concerned eyes, he hands the glass to me and motions for me to return to the living room. My body wars between wanting to eat everything they brought to falling asleep.

I’m saved from deciding on either when Abby reappears. “You did a great job in there.”

Gideon offers her a beer. “I thought it turned out good.”

She passes me a heavy duty paper plate. “Do you have any more projects planned?”

Gideon claims the seat next to me on the couch while Abby pulls an armchair closer to the coffee table. “Let’s get Lucy fed before we go down that rabbit hole.”

He takes my plate from me and begins serving me a bit of everything they unpacked.

“You don’t have to do that,” I argue, reaching for my plate.

“Already done,” He says, pushing the wings aside and setting my now full plate in front of me.

I blink down at it. “Thank you.”

He offers me a plastic fork. “Dig in.”

It’s not until I take my first bite that he answers Abby’s earlier question. “I need to change out the fiberglass insulation with spray foam insulation before we get too far into winter. I also have some firewood being delivered next week. I need to load that into the back shed.”

Abby smacks her leg before pulling her cell from her back pocket. “Who did you use? I keep forgetting to order some and figured places were done delivering this winter.”

Gideon sets down his fork and tugs his cell phone free from his back pocket. I can’t help but notice they both use the same side pocket.

“I’ll text you the contact info. I’d call right now and leave a message.”

Abby nods, and as he instructs, leaves the firewood vendor a message right away.

Once she’s done leaving the message, she sets her phone face down on the coffee table. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why I can’t seem to remember to order firewood.”

Morning sickness.

So far, it hasn’t plagued me as much as I assumed it would from the pregnancies I’ve seen in movies and on TV. I mainly get it in the evening, when I’m settling down for bed. While I do get nauseous, I haven’t actually thrown up. It only lasts about thirty minutes or so, and now that I keep some bland crackers by my bed, it hasn’t been that big of a deal.

Because of this, I wasn’t ready for a wave of nausea to hit me when I attempted to eat some potato salad. Dropping my fork on my paper plate, I cover my mouth with both hands and gag. Two pairs of wide eyes blink in surprise at me. I don’t have time to worry about what they might be thinking. No, I need to get to the bathroom because this nausea is ten times worse than any of the other bouts I’ve experienced.

Footsteps sound behind me but I don’t look back. My body folds in half with each violent gag. As soon as I reach the bathroom, I drop to my knees in front of the toilet, lift the lid, and retch into it.

Hands smooth back my hair as I grip cool porcelain and empty the contents of my stomach.

A large hand gently rubs my back. “Get it all out.”

This is mortifying and I know I’ll be embarrassed once my body stops throwing a tantrum.

“Do you think she has the flu, or maybe a stomach bug?” Abby asks.

“She was okay a minute ago. Do me a favor and wet a washcloth with cold water.”

My eyes start leaking, not because I’m sad, since my nose joins the fun and starts running at the same time. It’s like my body decided to forcibly expel all fluids from my head.

At this point, I have no idea how much time has passed. It could have been three minutes, it could have been three hours.

Gideon, who I’m now sure is the one holding my hair, presses a cold cloth to the back of my neck. The cool is both heavenly and borderline painful.

Slowly, I lift my head to look at Abby since Gideon is still behind me. “Sorry about that.”

Abby’s lips part. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay?”

I nod and start to stand. Before I get far, another wave crashes over me. My body contorts as it tries to force out something that is no longer there.

Gideon’s big hand is like an anchor, keeping me from toppling backward. “Jesus. Should we take her to the hospital?”

Abby’s voice is hushed and full of concern. “Maybe.”

“No, I’m fine.” I manage to squeak out, drool dripping from my mouth.

“Bullshit.” Gideon’s tone is clipped.

Pushing away from the toilet, I swivel and sit. From here, I can see both of their faces.

I pull the damp towel from my neck and wipe my mouth. “I promise. I’m okay.”

Gideon frowns. “Not buying it. We’re taking you to the hospital.”

I give him a sad smile. “No really, I already know what’s wrong with me.”

He folds arms across his chest. “I can carry you.”

Shaking my head, I scoot farther away from him.

His face softens. “Give me one good reason not to make you go.”

“I’m pregnant.”