"You're crazy."
"But you love me."
"I'm starting to wonder why."
"It might be because I'm curvy or the fact that I make you laugh. What if it's a girl?" Her sudden switch in topic had him blinking.
"What?"
"A girl. What if it's a girl cooking in my uterus?"
"Cooking? Is that the medical term?"
"You know what I mean. Now answer the question."
"I don't think the question is complete."
"Okay, smart-ass. What if it's a girl? Will you be pleased?"
"Nope. I would send it right back." He grinned at her pained expression. "I really don't know what you want me to say. If it's a girl, it's fine with me."
"You want an heir."
"I want a healthy child," he corrected her. "The sex doesn't matter to me."
"Really?" Her expression was skeptical.
"Really."
"You need an heir."
"Girls can be heirs as well."
"You need someone to carry on the O'Keefe name."
"We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Now shut up about it."
"But-" He solved the problem by closing his mouth over hers.
The first three months flew by like magic, without her experiencing anything other than slight heartburn and mild nausea. John monitored her carefully, insisting on seeing her every two weeks.
And she was thrilled. Her brother was also doing extremely well and had been by to visit them, staying the weekend. At first, he had been intimidated by her husband, but Brant had gone out of his way to make him feel comfortable. She had to be grateful for that.
August blew in with intense heat and debilitating exhaustion. She started showing, much to her concern, and then came the raging hormones, which had her crying at one point and feeling sorry for herself.
Her mood swings were so alarming that it was as if she were two different people. Brant would come home to see her curled up in bed, creating all sorts of scenarios in her head.
And the paranoia was soon obvious. Her ankles had started swelling, forcing her to stay off her feet. Whereas the first trimester was a breeze, the second was brutal. She was sick every single morning, forcing the doctors to prescribe something stronger than the usual anti-nausea meds they had been giving her. But it made her so drowsy that she could barely keep her eyes open.
And she started wondering if her husband was cheating on her. She said it to her friend one blisteringly hot summer afternoon, which heralded the last Saturday in August. She had started spending less time at the store because of her pregnancy.
"You're insane. That man loves you to distraction."
"And yet, he's been avoiding me." She wished she could find the effort to slide into the pool. They were lying beneath striped umbrellas, partaking of the iced tea Mrs. Holt had made beforeher departure, but the heat was still stifling. Indigo could swear that the temperature had been turned up especially high on her skin. She felt like she was being burned alive.
"He went to the club today."
"So?" Juliet was enjoying the interlude. When her friend had called and asked her to come over, she had jumped at the opportunity to do just that. And she had arrived with her swimsuit and straw hat.