“I WAS THINKING,” David said, in a casual voice that Nychelle knew meant he was feeling anything but relaxed. “You should stop working soon.”
This wasn’t really a promising start to what she’d hoped would be a busy and productive Saturday. So many changes were coming, and coming so quickly her head sometimes felt as though it were spinning.
In less than eight weeks they’d welcome their baby, and as if that weren’t enough they also had to sign the papers to purchase a practice close to David’s home town. While he wouldn’t take over from the retiring doctor there for another six months after that, Nychelle was determined to have as much dealt with on the home front as she could before the birth.
She had a to-do list as long as her arm, but David didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere or do anything other than lie here. Or rather, he was probably inclined to have her lie there all day.
Lying across the bed, his head resting on her thigh, he rubbed her distended stomach, pausing every now and then to feel the baby turn or kick against his palm.
“Sweetheart, I’m just at thirty-two weeks,” she replied. “And in good health. I don’t want to stop working yet.”
She’d been waiting for this to happen ever since she’d had a scare at twenty-two weeks and her doctor had diagnosed placenta praevia. Dr. Miller was monitoring it carefully, and had scheduled Nychelle to have a Caesarian section five days before her due date, but David’s stress levels had been climbing ever since. However, even though she wanted to alleviate his fears, knowing that she wouldn’t be returning to Lauderlakes after the baby came made her want to maximize her earnings before she left. It was a Catch 22.
“I know,” he answered, keeping his focus on her belly, his hand sliding around and around. “But it’s something to think about.”
Nychelle sighed, but made sure he didn’t hear it. He’d been so good through her pregnancy up to this point—not hovering too much or allowing his doctoring instincts to take over; being concerned and engaged but not smothering.
Of course she knew he watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking, and was sure he sometimes stayed awake at night to keep an eye on her when she wasn’t feeling well. No matter what the doctor said, or how often she told David she was feeling wonderful, she knew he wouldn’t really be okay until the baby was safely delivered.
She’d planned to work right up until the week before her C-section, but it looked like it was time for a compromise, and Nychelle carefully considered her words before saying them. “Well, why don’t we—”
“Hang on,” he said, his head coming up off her thigh. “Hold that thought.”
He rolled to stand with a motion so fluid all she could feel was envy. The very last vestiges of grace had deserted her at least a month ago, and it often felt as though she needed a block and tackle to do the simplest things. Like get up out of a chair or push herself up to sit higher on her pillows.
Moments later he was back, carrying Jacqueline, who’d just woken up. Like her mother, it took the toddler a while to face the day and become fully human again, and David was patting her back and joggling her gently, the way he knew she liked.
“Here we are,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of Jackie’s head. “Here’s our beautiful girl, ready to rise and shine.”
Nychelle chuckled when she caught sight of Jackie’s expression. “Rise and shine” indeed. If the pout on their daughter’s face was anything to go by, she had no intention of doing any such thing anytime soon.
“Mama,” the little girl mumbled, reaching out with one arm while still keeping a tight grip on David’s neck with the other.
Lowering himself and Jackie onto the bed with practiced ease, David lay down so the little body was snuggled between them.
“Good morning, my sweet girl,” Nychelle said.
She was just reaching down to kiss Jackie’s sleep-warmed cheek when the toddler abruptly sat up.
“Good morning, little bruvver,” she said, in her scratchy, first-thing-in-the-morning voice, before leaning close to kiss Nychelle’s tummy.
As Jackie flopped back down and rolled over, pulling at David’s hand so he embraced them both, Nychelle knew a fullness of heart that never failed to make her eyes misty.
Looking across Jackie into her husband’s beautiful blue eyes, she saw reflected there all she was feeling and more. And she smiled, knowing she was the luckiest woman alive.
“One more month,” she said, moving her hand to cover his, which was back to circling her stomach. “Then I’ll stay home.”
“Two weeks,” he said, as she’d expected.
“Three,” she countered, her smile turning into a grin when he reluctantly nodded.
“Why do I feel as though that was what you’d decided from the outset?” he grumbled, turning his hand to link his fingers with hers. “To you and Jackie I’m just a pushover, aren’t I?”
She giggled, wrinkling her nose at him. “At least at the clinic you’re still Dr. Heat, the man who has the nurses falling over themselves to do his bidding.”
“Stop it,” he growled, even as he swooped in to kiss the laughter from her lips. “Why can’t I be Dr. Heat to you instead? I’d like that better.”
“Oh, you are,” she murmured against his mouth, surrounded in happiness, basking in the warmth of his love. “And you always will be.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Healed by Her Army Doc by Meredith Webber.
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