A month later, the beginning of December, I’m still settling into my new life in Winston-Salem. Leaving Atlanta behind was a decision I was glad I made – a decision I would gladly make again and again.
Getting to know Wyatt’s parents, well, specifically his mother, is proving to be quite the challenge. We have a big family dinner every Sunday at our home with his parents, his friends and some of his employees. Every time she gets the chance, Agnes tells me how sorry she is for what she did to me and tries to overcompensate by giving me gifts.
The spa is still in progress. The space is leased, and Wyatt is hiring a designer to come in, decorate the place so that it could be a peaceful retreat for customers. The spa probably won’t open until the spring. Wyatt says he wants it to be perfect for me. We’ve already started interviewing help, and I will need all the help I can get, especially with the baby on the way.
Yes, I’m two months pregnant. Wyatt and I haven’t told anyone yet because we want to wait until we’re out of the first trimester – when we’ll be confident that everything is okay. That’s precisely why I haven’t been to Atlanta to visit Stacey. Right now, I need to be close to my doctor in case something happens. And not only that...this morning sickness ain’t no joke.
“Good morning my beautiful, sexy wife.”
“Good morning, Wyatt.”
“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to wake up to you, and I don’t have words to describe the feeling of knowing that my baby is growing in here?” he says, gliding his fingers across my stomach, making me quiver.
I place my hand on top of his and say, “I can’t tell you how honored I am to be carrying your baby.”
He leans over and takes a kiss from my lips. “How do you feel this morning?”
“I feel okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Yes. Just okay.”
“Do you feel better than yesterday?”
“A lot better than yesterday,” I say, because yesterday I was pretty much in bed all day long. Wyatt didn’t bother working. He was too busy taking care of me, bringing me Ginger Ale and crackers.
“If you feel up to it today, I would like to take you to a nice, romantic dinner.”
“I would like that very much.”
“Okay, angel.”
Looking back, I realize that leaving Wyatt all those years ago was a big mistake, just like avoiding my dad for all those years was a mistake. But nothing is ever accomplished by looking backwards. I prefer to look forward to the beautiful life that Wyatt and I will have together. We’ll be welcoming a son or daughter in about seven months.
And as for my father...
Wyatt wanted to make a special place for my family in his home, so being the thoughtful, loving husband that he is, he found a portrait of my family – one of us when my mother was alive, happier times – and had the picture printed in a large poster size and framed for the living room wall. And now the memory of my family is still alive. I can look at the picture and show our baby the grandparents he or she would never get to meet, would never hug or speak to. But my children will know my parents because they need to know where they came from and how much they meant to me.
I miss my mother. I miss my father, and I can now take comfort in knowing that I fulfilled his last wishes. That he’s truly resting in peace and no longer has to suffer with the grief of losing my dear mother.
Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but with the passing of the minutes of every day, it makes life a little bit more bearable. It strengthens my heart, allowing me to forgive the people who need forgiveness, to honor the people who raised me and to love the only man who has ever captured my heart – Wyatt McDowell.
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