Eddie's POV:
"Eddie, Eds," Ripley nudges me in my sleep. I groan and curl into her more snuggly. I wrap my arms around her middle to keep her from wiggling and she huffs against me, annoyed.
"Edward," she groans, rubbing her cold feet up my bare calves making me shiver.
"What do you want?" I grunt, lifting one eyelid to peek over at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand. It's one-thirty two in the morning. We both should be fast asleep.
"Ripley Michelle, there better be a damn good reason you're waking me up right now," I warn, rolling over onto my back and covering my eyes with the palms of my hands. Ripley rolls on top of me, laying across my chest and when I pull my hands away she is looking down at me.
"I'm starving," she says and I furrow my eyebrows.
"And you needed to wake me up for that because?"
"Because I'm starving for pickles and ice cream and you have neither in your kitchen."
"Baby, it's almost two o'clock in the morning," I sigh and she pouts down at me.
"But I can't sleep when I'm hungry like this. Bean and I need pickles and ice cream otherwise I'll be up for the rest of the night."
I groan again, resigned and I gently ease her off of me. I push the blankets off of me and shiver slightly in the cold early morning air. I grab a pair of sweats from atop my dresser and pull them on before shrugging into a hoodie. I reach up and pull my hair through the neck of the sweater and turn to look down at her, still snug in bed.
"Do you want a specific type of ice cream or just plain vanilla?" I ask her and her face breaks out into an excited smile.
"Just vanilla please," she says. "And whole dill pickles."
I shudder internally at thought of the combination, but I don't say anything. Ripley's weird cravings started a few weeks ago, so I have gotten familiar with odd requests. This is the first time she has woken me up in the middle of the night though. I hope it will be the last, but I'm not too optimistic. I lean down and kiss Ripley's head before moving into the kitchen and grabbing my keys.
I drive to the local grocery store, glad they are open twenty four hours. I keep my head down as I quickly move through the aisles grabbing first the pickles I know she will want and then the ice cream. When I get to the register, the middle aged man working smiles down at my items, shaking his head knowingly.
"Pregnant wife at home?" he asks me with a grin and I nod, not bothering to correct him.
"I remember those days," he chuckles and tells me my total. I hand him the cash and he gets my change. "Best of luck to you. It's definitely worth it in the end. Try to keep that in mind on these nights."
I nod with a smile and thank him, taking my bags and walking outside. His words stay with me as I drive back to the trailer. When I get back inside, Ripley is sitting up in bed, flipping through a comic book. She smiles as I hold up the bag of goodies triumphantly and bounces slightly on the mattress. I had grabbed two spoons on my way down the hall and I hand them to her as I pull the pint of ice cream and jar of pickles from the shopping bag. Ripley peels back the ice cream top and sets it between us as I pop open the jar of pickles and hand it to her. She sits crisscrossed and places it between her legs. I take off my hoodie and rejoin her in bed, taking my spoon from her and digging into the ice cream as she fishes out a pickle. She crunches on it happily, a satisfied moan escaping her lips and I smile.
"You're the best," she sighs, looking over at me and I laugh.
"You act like I've just done something mind-blowing. All I did was drive to the Piggly Wiggly and get the food you wanted."
"Yes, but it's early in the morning and I know that you're tired. I'm sorry to wake you. It just feels like I'm going to starve to death when I get these cravings. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. Every thing I've read says it gets worse in the second trimester, too."
"Great," I sigh, bitterly and Ripley reaches out to pat my hand lovingly.
"I'm sorry handsome. I genuinely don't mean to be a pest."
"You're not a pest, sweetheart." I assure her, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I'm just not a morning person."
"I know," she says with a small smile. Ripley chews on her pickles and then shoves a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, making my stomach turn. I set my spoon down.
"How can you stomach that?" I say, pulling a face and she shrugs.
"It's surprisingly really good."
I settle in against the headboard, pulling the blankets up against my legs as she polishes off another pickle and a few more scoops of ice cream. When she's finished, I watch her gather everything and walk into the kitchen. She has been sleeping in one of her t-shirts and panties and I can't say I mind in the least. She looks like a literal goddess this way. Her short hair curling around her chin and ears and her skin glowing in the dim light of the lamp in my room. When she comes back into my bedroom and closes the door behind her, my eyes travel over her body before landing on her face. She pauses in the doorway with her eyebrows raised and her cheeks flushed.
"What?" she asks and I shake my head, a timid grin on my lips.
"I love you," I say simply and her blush deepens.
"And I love you," she tells me, crawling back into bed beside me. I pull her against me and kiss her lips, tucking her beneath the blankets and stealing her warmth. Ripley wraps hers arms around my shoulders and hums against me, sending my heart singing.
"Are you and bean satisfied now?" I ask once I pull away. I glance over at the clock again and it's nearly three in the morning. "Do you think you can sleep, angel?"
"Only if I can keep you here," she yawns, her eyes already growing heavy and I grin.
"Of course," I whisper, kissing her nose. "I'm not going anywhere. Sleep, sweetheart."
I wrap my arms more firmly around her waist and bury my head in her neck, breathing her in. She sighs against me and I close my eyes as I listen to her breathing slowly becoming steady. I can tell once she falls asleep, all of her muscles relaxing and her breathing deep and slow. My heart rate slowly syncs with hers and before I know it, I join Ripley in peaceful slumber.
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I wake to an empty bed and the muted sound of retching coming from the bathroom. I blink my eyes a few times as I push the blankets off of my body. I reach up and brush my hair from my eyes as I walk out into the hall and step into the doorway of the bathroom. Ripley is inside, hugging the toilet and throwing up. My heart clenches in my chest, hating this for her.
"You alright, baby?" I ask, knowing the answer, but not sure what else to say. She shakes violently for a moment, but once she relaxes she clears her throat. Her voice is hoarse when she answers me.
"Yeah, I just wanted to make you breakfast. Obviously, bean was not a fan of the idea. The smell of the sausage sent me into a fit."
She waits a moment to make sure she is good before she stands on wobbly legs to rinse her mouth out and then brush her teeth. I move into the kitchen and open the windows, first in there and then in the living room. When she comes back out, she sinks into a seat at the table and gestures towards the plate of sausage and pancakes on the counter. I take it and sit across from her, turning the sausage so it's as far from her as possible.
"Thank you, sweetheart, but you know you don't have to do this," I tell her, grabbing the syrup from where she has it set out on the table and drowning my pancakes.
"I know I don't have to, but I want to. Everything seems to be more complicated now," she huffs, frustrated and I give her a sympathetic look. "I can't even make you breakfast without getting sick. We aren't even into the second trimester yet. I don't know how I'm going to do this."
"I've heard it gets easier," I offer, but she puts her face in her hands. Ripley has been such a good sport about everything thus far, but I think the lack of sleep last night and the ongoing morning sickness is finally getting to her.
"Listen, what do you say about doing something fun today," I offer, chewing my food and she lifts her head from her hands. Tears have welled up in the backs of her eyes and my chest tightens at the sight. I know this is hard for her, but I want to do what I can to help.
"Like what?" she asks, sniffling slightly and I offer a small smile.
"Anything you want. Is there anything you have been wanting to do?"
Ripley chews on the inside of her lip and looks out the window for a moment. It's beautiful out today, the weather is starting to warm up and birds chirp happily in the yard.
"Do you think we can have a picnic? At Lover's Lake?" She questions almost shyly and I grin around my fork at her bashful behavior. Her cheeks are a little flushed and she looks down at the table, her fingernail running over the chipped surface.
"Of course," I say and her eyes dart up to meet mine, a surprised gleam in her eyes.
Ripley hops up from her chair and moves to the fridge, pulling the door open and peeking down at the contents.
"We'll need to pick some things up from the store," she says, ducking down and rummaging through the shelves. "But I at least have things to make sandwiches here."
"Let me make them, sweetheart." I tell her, wiping my hands on my napkin and picking up my plate. I carry it to the sink and turn to her. She gives me an odd look, as if I've grown a second head and I laugh.
"What?" I ask her. "Believe it or not, I know how to make a sandwich." I move towards her and take out the sliced turkey, provolone, mayonnaise, and vegetables. Ripley watches wide-eyed as I lay everything on the counter and grab the bread. I turn to her as I pull the utensil drawer open and wave her away.
"Go take a shower and get ready, sweetheart. I'll make the sandwiches."
Ripley nods slowly, moving forward to kiss me on the cheek once before turning down the hall and vanishing into the bathroom. I hear the shower cut on as I pull out the lettuce, tomatoes, and onions that she has already pre-cut and put in Ziploc baggies. Ripley has been staying over here pretty often, so I have been doing my best to actually keep the house stocked with food, something Wayne and I never bothered to do before. Now, I actually enjoy grocery shopping, especially when I have Ripley in tow. We hold hands and chat as we peruse the aisles and shop. The activity is so normal and boring, but it makes my heart happy nonetheless.
Once both sandwiches are made, I put them each in individual baggies and then I put all my materials back. I know Ripley will want pickles as well, so I take a few out of the jar and set them in a Ziploc. I set everything in a small pile in the fridge so they are easily accessible. I move over to the sink and start to clean up the dishes both from just now and from breakfast. As I wash them and set them to dry, I hear Ripley's voice ring out from the bathroom. She's singing a Fleetwood Mac song. Her voice is pleasant and soft as it carries through the trailer and I feel as though my grin will split my face clean in two. I hum along to the words she is singing and tap my toes, keeping time with her.
When the dishes are clean and set out to dry, I move back to my bedroom. I make my bed, something I never do, but I know it makes Ripley happy. I know she will make it when she comes out and to try to help her, I do my best to make it look as tidy as possible. No matter how many times I try, it doesn't look as good as when she does it, but I get it as close as possible and move to open my windows as well, letting in more fresh air. Ripley steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body and another atop her head. Her eyes light up at the sight of my bed and me moving around, tidying the room.
"What are you up to?" she asks and I shrug.
"Just cleaning up a bit. I know the mess makes you anxious and I should take better care of things."
Ripley moves over to me then, pressing against me and I am hit with the smell of her soap; strawberries and vanilla. My head swims as she comes up on her tiptoes, her breath skating over my mouth, making me gulp slightly.
"You're too good to me," she murmurs and I shudder as her lips whisper against mine.
"You should get dressed otherwise I'm going to lock you in here and we will never make it to the lake," I tell her and she smiles against me.
"Maybe I'm alright with that," she grins and I groan, shaking my head.
"No, ma'am," I tell her, pushing myself away. "I promised to take you to do something fun and I intend to keep my word."
"Who says we can't have fun locked away in here?" she suggests with a wink and I sigh.
"And you say I'm incorrigible. Get dressed, sweets otherwise I'll dress you myself."
Ripley pouts slightly, but finally gives in and moves to get dressed. She drops her towel, moving around my room, completely naked and I fully enjoy the view. I watch her hungrily, staring without shame as she rummages in her drawer for an outfit. She pulls some underwear and a matching bra out and steps into them, strapping herself in. Ripley pulls a pair of jeans out and then turns to find me openly drooling. She smirks.
"Caught you," she winks and I blush slightly, looking down at the floor. I clear my throat and busy myself with some of the clutter on my book shelf. When I look back up at Ripley she has hopped into her jeans and has snagged one of my t-shirts. She tucks the front side of it into her jeans, the rest of it hangs loosely over the waistband of her pants. I move to grab my own outfit, deciding to match her with jeans and a band tee. I quickly get changed and it is her turn to ogle me. She perches on the edge of the bed, looking up at me unashamedly as I ready myself for the day. Once I'm done, I lean forward and place my hands on the bed on either side of her waist. My face is a mere inch from hers and I smile.
"Let's go, missy," I tease, kissing across her eyebrows and she nods. I stand and take her hand, pulling her up behind me and we head out into the kitchen. Ripley grabs the bags from the fridge and she takes out Wayne's giant lunch cooler from one of the cabinets. She throws a few ice packs inside before tossing the food on top. I hand her the keys and carry the cooler out to the van, letting her lock up. When I come around the van to take them back from her though, she shakes her head with a smirk.
"I wanna drive," she says, clutching the keys between her fingers and I blanch slightly at the idea.
"Please," she pleas and I cave. I walk over to the driver's door and hold it open for her, holding my hand out for her to take. She happily clasps her fingers around mine as she jumps up into the seat and settles in, reaching around to adjust the seat. I close the door and walk around, hopping up beside her. She turns the keys in the ignition and Metallica blares loudly from the speakers. I reach over and turn it down just enough so I can hear her if she speaks and I buckle my seatbelt, bracing for a wild ride.
Ripley backs out of the drive and drives towards the supermarket, singing softly along to the music playing from the radio. I keep my hand on her thigh, trying not to be a backseat driver as she nearly crashes into a row of mailboxes.
"Whoops," she chuckles softly as she straightens out and I groan, leaning my head back on the headrest of my seat.
"Who the hell taught you how to drive?" I mutter and she glares at me out of the corner of her eyes.
"I took driver's ed at my last school, Eds," she sighs, annoyed and I shake my head.
"Your driving is terrifying. I have no idea how you passed."
"Honestly, I think the teacher had the hots for my mom," she laughs and my eyes widen. I turn to her with raised eyebrows and she shrugs. "I was failing and my mom went in for a parent teacher conference. As soon as Mr. Homes saw my mom, it was like a switch was flipped. He was friendly and chipper and he was eager to do whatever he could to help. My grade changed almost over night."
"Poor Schmuck," I huff and Ripley nods. "You Marro women are lethal."
"Are not," she chuckles in disbelief and I give her a skeptical look.
"Honestly, babe, you say jump and I'd ask how high. You're like oxygen. I'm sure your mom has the same effect on men. You look almost identical."
"Is this your round about way of saying you have the hots for my mom?" she questions and I laugh, shaking my head.
"No way. I'm one hundred percent sold on the Ripley express. I'm just stating facts."
"Even if my mom managed to influence Mr. Homes, I still had to pass my driving test and the instructor I tested with was a woman from the DMV. She seemed to think I could handle being on the road."
"She obviously was too nice and was being generous," I sigh and Ripley glares out of the windshield.
"Maybe if you let me drive more I'd get better at it," she offers and I weigh that option in my head. I'm not sure my nerves can handle her driving us around all the time, but maybe I should let her drive every once in a while. I can always try to help her improve that way.
Ripley pulls into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot and parks in a vacant spot in the back, making me grateful that she didn't try to park by other people. We both get out and walk hand in hand into the store. Ripley makes quick work, finding some chips and candies. I watch her happily as she lets her pregnancy cravings win and she tosses hot chips, sour candies, and even mangoes into the basket as she absently chews the inside of her lip, her eyes scanning the shelves.
"Baby, I think we have plenty," I tell her, looking down into the little basket and she nods sheepishly.
"You're probably right. Get me out of here before I try to buy the entire store."
We check out and head back to the car. Ripley swings some of the bags from her fingers happily and practically skips to the van. We pack everything in the back and she hops back into the driver's seat. We pull out and head towards the lake, the excitement building.
Ripley turns off road and down the little dirt path that we usually take to the lake. The path is narrow and particularly bumpy. She takes it too quickly and the entire cab shakes violently, the tires leaving the ground for a moment as we fly over the dirt. I grab a hold of the steering wheel as her foot comes down on the brake. My free hand comes out to stop her from slamming forward as she hits the brake. My eyes are wide as we sit, completely stopped. She blushes up at me, gritting her teeth and I hold my tongue. I could say something snarky, but I don't want to upset her. Instead, I encourage her to move down the path slowly. She takes her foot off the brake and the van starts to roll slowly forward. I explain she doesn't need to push much on the gas, sometimes not at all unless she is working over a bump and she nods. She bites down on her lip and I watch as she follows my instructions, a little 'v' forming between her eyebrows as she concentrates.
I love to watch her like this, focusing and listening to my instructions eagerly. Her ethereal features glow brightly in the sunlight and I want so desperately to kiss her mad in these moments, when she is patient and obedient. It does wild and unimaginable things to me. We make it to the clearing and the lake is wide and flat in front of us. Ripley pulls around and parks under some trees so that the back of the van is facing the water and we get out. I open up the back doors and climb inside, setting up the blanket I keep in the back along the van floor. Ripley crawls inside behind me and starts to pull the food from the bags. She hums softly to herself as she makes a comfortable little set up for us using some spare t-shirts and my overnight bag as pillows.
We sit quietly for a while, snacking and watching the waves. The lake trickles softly and I curl up beside Ripley, enjoying the cool air and the sunshine. I bite loudly into one of the pickles, the juice running down my chin and Ripley giggles, offering me a napkin. I wipe my face and Ripley leans her head against my shoulder, sighing happily.
"Thank you, Eds," she says and I kiss the top of her head. "You knew what I needed even when I didn't."
"Of course, sweetheart," I say softly. "That's my job. I'm supposed to keep the two of you happy during all of this. It's the least I can do while you're busy making fingers and toes and our little bean is trying to grow. Just know you can rely on me if you feel stressed or tired. We do this together or not at all, remember?"
"You're the best," she says, leaning up to kiss the underside of my jaw and I shake my head. In my opinion this is nowhere near enough to show her just how grateful for her I really am. I tell myself I am going to keep working on it. I want to see that smile every day even when things get hard.
"I think this last week has been hard with finals coming up and with graduation around the corner. It feels like yesterday we just found out I was pregnant, but now I'm eleven weeks along and there is only two weeks left until the next trimester, but also the end of high school. It's still so surreal to me that both of these things are happening at the same time. It definitely doesn't help either that I have been as sick as a dog almost every single day and my sleep has been so restless on the nights I don't spend with you. I wish my mother would let you spend the night. It's not like I can get pregnant again. That ship has already sailed."
"That actually reminds me," I say, adjusting slightly so I can look more clearly at her. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
Ripley raises her eyebrows up at me and I clear my throat slightly, my stomach turning slightly with nerves.
"So you know that the concert rotations have been going really well," I begin and Ripley nods. She has been to a number of shows recently at a multitude of clubs in the surrounding towns. Noir Records has been a huge help in getting our name out there and the band and I have had a steady and constant income from all of the shows since we now perform consistently on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. We also have been working on the album on Monday nights and Saturday mornings and it is nearly finished. The excitement around its release is building and we have even started thinking up cover art concepts in preparation.
"And we have talked about the fact that I have some money saved," I tell Ripley and she nods again. We haven't gone into the details of how much is saved, but it is a generous amount. I never needed to spend my money on much before other then the occasional tattoo, cigarettes, or beer. "Well, I saw that there is a trailer for rent in my neighborhood and the landlord is Mrs. Caldwell, an old friend of Wayne's. She has lived in Forest Hills for forever, but she is apparently moving to live closer to her son and grandchildren and wants to rent out the property. It's a two bedroom like mine and Wayne's and she has kept it in really good condition. Now I know it's not much. And you would be living in a trailer again. It would be a step back, but I hope it would only be a temporary living arrangement. If you don't want to even consider it, we can keep looking, but I at least wanted to mention it."
My ranting is stopped by Ripley's fingers over my lips. Her eyes are bright and kind as she looks up at me. She's got a small knowing smile on her face and my shoulders relax slightly at her kind expression.
"Can I see this trailer?" she asks and I nod. Her fingers are still against my lips and I reach up to snatch her hand, pulling it from my mouth.
"I've already taken a look, but I can call Mrs. Caldwell and ask if there is a good time for you to come and have a peek."
"I'd like that, Eds." Ripley says with a nod. "I wouldn't mind living in a trailer. As long as I'm with you, I don't care where we live. We could live in a shoebox for all I care as long as we are happy, sheltered, and fed."
Warmth blooms in my chest at her words and I cup her chin in my hand, pulling her face up. I lean down and brush my lips against hers. The touch of her skin on mine makes my body tingle and buzz. My head swims as our lips and tongues move in sync. I breathe her into my lungs and her hands come up to cup my face. When I pull away and look down at her, her sapphire eyes are filled with love.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" I ask and she chuckles.
"I ask myself that about you at least once a day."
"Guess we are just two lucky ducks then," I joke and she giggles. The sound makes me smile.
"You're such a nerd."
"Yea, but you love it."
"I do," she sighs, leaning her head on my shoulder. We fall into amicable silence, turning to watch the water. The sun sparkles off of the clear surface and I breathe deeply, content. It really is a beautiful day and I wouldn't want to spend it with anyone else.