“Really?” Keith turned on the lamp, looking like a kid with a new toy. “Let me feel.” He put his hands on my stomach. “I don’t feel anything.”
“Maybe it was nothing. I’m going back to sleep.”
The next few days I felt those flutters again and my doctor confirmed I was feeling the baby move. When the Doppler was placed on my stomach, we not only heard the heartbeat, but several kicks.
“You have a little football player,” the doctor said.
“There,” Keith affirmed. “I told you it wasn’t a girl.”
“Who says?” I defended. “Girls play football. Don’t doubt my intuition.”
Keith laughed. “Okay, okay. At ease.”
First December was Keith’s 20th birthday. Louisa insisted we come for dinner before the show. That’s when she presented Keith with a gift that was more for us both — an Air France gift certificate and hotel accommodations in Paris. “I assume you’ll spend Christmas with your mum,” she said. “This should help defray those costs and give you two a little time to yourselves in Paris before the baby’s born.”
I gave her the biggest hug ever.
When Keith went downstairs, I had time with Louisa. “How are you, dear? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.” She poured me some tea.
“Exhausted, but hanging in,” I confessed. “So, have Keith’s parents called lately?”
“Yes, they both talk to me now. His dad still mostly. They gave me their number.”
“So, they know about the baby, then?”
“No, I’ve kept my word.”
“Give me that number. I think our baby has a right to know her biological grandparents. I don’t want his mum alone with her, but the more people a child has that love her, the better.”
“His mum says she’s on medication for severe depression and nerves and still receives therapy. I agree, though. Leaving her alone with the child is unwise.”
I attended that night’s show and agreed to sell again. I should have said no, but Ryan hadn’t found anyone else. I was exhausted, but didn’t want to say anything lest Keith leave his party early on my account. I couldn’t partake in any champagne and couldn’t watch from the front. As much as I looked forward to the baby, I missed the carefree days.
The following week I spent long hours at the academy finishing projects before breaking for Christmas. Keith was always practicing. Our bambina tumbled and kicked, letting us know she was a part of our lives whether we were ready or not.
Keith played his guitar or piano daily to expose her to music. He even wrote her songs. He was a little kid awaiting Christmas.
On twenty second December, we took our two-day Paris holiday. Paris was even more romantic this Christmas, but it was in our hotel room that Keith handed me an elaborately decorated bag. “I got you something to wear on New Year’s Eve,” he said with an impish look.
I reached into the bag and pulled out an over-sized t-shirt with the words, Mummy’s Mosh Pit over the belly. I laughed out loud and kissed him. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
We left the hotel room and walked through the crisp Paris night. There was no snow this time, but that didn’t impede its romantic allure. As much as I looked forward to seeing my mum, I hated leaving Paris on Christmas Eve. Before catching the train to Brest, I stopped at a pet shop and bought my mother a cat. She was a beautiful sliver tabby and couldn’t have been more beautiful if I’d painted her myself. She mewed all the way to Brittany. Hiding her until morning was the bigger challenge, but somehow she never heard its cries and I was able to surprise her Christmas morning. “So you won’t be so alone now,” I explained. “Her name is Molly.”
They fell in love with each other immediately. It was our first Christmas without Papa and although I missed him terribly, my mother still grieved heavily. I was also sad he
We only spent three days. I hated leaving my mother in that big house alone. But I needed rest before going to Brighton.
Keith had one final practice but I stayed home to make stencils to decorate the baby’s room, until sleep won over. I awoke to Keith’s kisses.
“It’s only ten, luv. Sleeping on the job, are you?”
I grabbed a cushion and whacked him. Keith grabbed the other cushion and hit me back. He got on the sofa and started kissing me when the bambina kicked in — literally!
“Look what you’ve done,” I scolded. “You woke the baby.”
The biggest grin spread across his face and he put both hands on my stomach. “Wow, this kid’s going for the gold!”
“I think she wants to be part of the action,” I commented.
“You’re still insisting this is a girl, eh? I almost hope it’s a boy so I can say I told you so.”
I wrapped my arms around him. “Well, dream on because we’re having a daughter and she’s got your energy. I should finish clearing the spare room. This is the last time I’ll have to get it ready.”
Keith picked up my stencils. “What, no pink ballerinas? You’re choosing gender neutral designs?” He gave me a self-satisfied look.
“I’m not in doubt,” I defended. “I don’t think anything traditionally feminine is her style.”
We spent the next two days clearing the baby’s room. Between Keith’s guitars and amps and my art supplies, we were running out of room. I used the stencils for a wallpaper boarder. Keith painted the wall in turquoise and again Keith couldn’t resist ribbing me about choosing a neutral color. We miraculously finished before leaving for Brighton.
Keith and I were taking the train to Brighton for my comfort instead of the van. I was very tired. The bambina had been active all night so I hadn’t gotten much sleep. I also had a touch of indigestion.
“Are you sure you’re up to this trip,” Keith asked as I staggered out of bed.
I kissed him. “We’re not spending our first New Year’s Eve as a married couple apart.”
We began snogging and Keith’s hands roamed down to my stomach. “Does this kid ever sleep?”
“Not much,” I sighed. “She barely gives me a moment’s peace these days.”
We ate breakfast at a local pub and took a taxi to the station. I was now in my sixth month and getting increasingly uncomfortable.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Keith asked as we awaited our train.
“I’ll be better once I’m on the train. These wooden benches are uncomfortable.”
“Lie down and use me for a pillow.” He took off his leather jacket, draping it on me.
I would have fallen asleep if our train wasn’t called.
Keith threw his jacket back on and grabbed his guitar. He put one arm around me and we headed for the loading platform.
We found seats and I snuggled into Keith and closed my eyes. Keith wrapped an arm around me and I was just starting to relax when I sat bolt upright and cried out.
[To be continued… Click here to view all chapters.]
