I cracked a small smile at his teasing. Yes, he was right. I had to let Nicholas deal with it in his own way and hope with time, patience, and maybe a few more therapy sessions, he would be able to stop blaming himself.
Virgil and I spent the next two hours playing chess, making fun of daytime television, and answering all of Nicholas’ calls to check on me.
And even though I’d forced Nicholas to leave, I was happiest when he walked back in through the door, looking freshly showered and carrying a tub of ice cream. He knew how to show his love.
I was discharged from the hospital a week later. I still needed a little help to get around, but Nicholas had signed me up for additional therapy from the comfort of our home. All in all, I hadn’t stepped outside the hospital grounds in over six weeks.
But all was not well and fine. Before we left, Dr. Whitney came by one last time to check on the baby, letting us know he was healthy, but voicing concern on two fronts. The first was urging me to gain back the weight I’d lost during my recuperation, and the second regarded the delivery. Because of my recent brain trauma, she believed it would be safer for me and the baby if she performed a C-section rather than going through a natural childbirth.
I was nervous about having surgery-particularly because the thought of being back in a hospital any longer than necessary was very unappealing-but I wanted whatever was best for the baby. At least I wasn’t due for about eight weeks, so we had time to discuss everything.
Nicholas wheeled me out to the car, and I gave John a big hug before getting in. I was all smiles on the drive home, sitting close to Nicholas, smelling the wintry air, and watching the snow fall over the city as we passed. I was glad to find the snow still around in early February because it would have been disappointing to miss it all.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked one arm around my shoulders, the other hand rubbing my belly. “You look happy.”
“I am happy.” I turned my head toward him. “I was just thinking how pretty the snow is. I only wish I’d been able to spend Christmas with you.”
He stared at me, not saying a word, a secret smile playing in his eyes. “What?” That made him grin. “Nothing. I don’t know. This kind of reminds me of one of the first things about you I fell in love with.”
My heart pounded while I waited for him to continue.
“You got the short end of the stick as you were growing up, but you didn’t let that stop you. You weren’t bitter about it or trodden down. And I remember thinking how strong you were when I met you.” He leaned in and brushed my lips with his. “It’s the same now. If I were you, I would be so angry. But you’re smiling and beautiful and happy about the snow…” He broke off and shook his head.
I threaded my fingers with his, not needing him to say another word. I knew what he was trying to say, and it meant the world to me that he felt that way.
Suddenly the baby kicked hard, and both of our mouths fell open, our eyes widening in surprise.
“You felt that, right?” I asked, knowing he hadn’t been able to feel the baby move much at all up to this point.
He nodded slowly, his eyes glancing down at our hands. “He’s going to be a soccer player.”
I giggled when he bent over to place his head on my belly. “Kick for Daddy. Kick me.”
It took a few pleas for him to get his wish, but he sat back up afterward, rubbing his cheek with a mile-wide smile. It was just about the cutest thing ever.
I laughed. “Quit acting like it hurt.”
“You don’t know. My boy has some strong legs.”
I gave him credit for realizing his mistake almost immediately, gulping at my mock glare. But I wanted to play with him.
“I don’t know? Did you really just say I had no idea how it felt to be kicked by him?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How did you mean it, then?”
He hesitated, watching my face to see if I was serious or not. “There’s no way for me to get out of this, is there?”
I couldn’t hold my smile in any longer, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer for a real kiss. It felt great to have some of our normal back. The normal was short-lived though. As soon as we pulled in front of the home, I only got a second to enjoy the sight before Nicholas was bundling me up and helped me out of the car.
“It’s too cold out here,” he said, bending down to pick me up in his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you inside.”
I groaned. “Don’t you dare treat me like an invalid.”
Although it felt good to be in his arms, I was tired of not doing things for myself. He kept going, being very cautious and slow on the steps leading to the front door. Just as we got there, he kissed me and put me on my feet.
“I don’t think you’re an invalid. I just didn’t want your first set of stairs to be snow-covered.”
He was right. I was being a brat. Before I could apologize, the door swung open and Laura hurried us both inside.
“It’s so good to have you back.” Laura didn’t even pretend to hold back her tears. I turned to face her again.
“It’s good to be back.” She eventually let go, taking my hand.
“Come on then. Let’s get you settled.”
Nicholas chuckled and held my other arm.
I was surprised as we passed through, turning to look at him. “You left up the Christmas decorations?”