I Do

Chapter 28 - Thanksgiving

Lauren’s Point of View

“Zack.” I call out in a whine. I couldn’t help it, I had woken up without my favorite person by my side and that alone was bound to put me in a sour mood. I stretched my fingers over to what had become his side of the bed and found the space still warm, so I assumed he had only recently vacated it. 

There’s no response, and my growing stomach makes it hard for me to sit upright. I groan, gripping the sheets to give myself some leverage to lift my body. “Zack!” I call again, this time louder. 

There’s still no response. I start to worry by this point, and I put even more effort in getting up, for real this time. The paralyzing fear is working twice as hard as I to still me, but I fight it back. “Zack!” I try again, but my voice comes out smaller, more cowardly. 

I hear footsteps finally, and I allow my thrashing body to go still at the sight of him rushing through the doorway. He kneels by my side of the bed, like he did one of the first I had a nightmare when he was here, and cups my hand to his cheek. 

“I was making you breakfast in bed.” he pouts a little, his puppy dog eyes surfacing without his okay. I fall under their spell, my already labored breathing hitching in my chest. “Guess you and Critter didn’t have enough patience to wait until I got back.”

He had started calling the baby Critter, to avoid the uses of he/she and it. I cringed at the thought of referring to person in my belly as only a pronoun. She was living, breathing, and moving. She deserved to have something for herself, so Zack, in following the logic, deemed her Critter. 

It was a suitable name for the little baby, for she took every opportunity she had, and it was often, to remind us she was there. It almost felt like she was attempting to rock climb at certain times. I wasn’t complaining, though. 

As long as my hand was pressed to his cheek, and I could feel her little somersaults from my increased heart beat, I was not complaining. 

“George left to go take Matt to the airport. His flight will land in California around three o’clock, and then George will either take the next flight home or stay there with them. He told me he isn’t sure yet.” Zack says. 

“Well, I vote he stays there. Last thing we need is a sweaty guy cooking us turkey.” I joke, smiling when he switches and presses his hand against my cheek instead. I press my face into his hand, not getting enough. 

Sometimes when you’re a kid, and you have ice cream in a cone, and you lick it with your tongue, it’s not very satisfying. You keep licking and licking but you never get your fill. 

That’s kind of how it is whenever Zack touches me. The slightest brush of his hand sends all organs into a panic, like their DNA code was suddenly vaporized and they are helpless. I don’t know how flattering it is to be compared to a dripping ice cream cone but it was the only thing I could think with his hand on my cheek.