"June 16th," I answer Lottie.
"Where?" Comes her next question.
I shrug my shoulder. "Lambesc?"
Lottie leans back in her seat and stares at me, unblinking. When her lips purse and she turns away from me, I'm not sure whether I should be scared or not. That is until one of her eyebrows quirks upwards and she smiles. Putting the nib of her pen back onto the paper, she makes a note of my answer. "Best man?" She continues with her Spanish Inquisition. I gawp at her, thinking that it was a stupid thing to ask. She must have agreed. "I'm going to go ahead and put Mick's name down for that. Well, my maid of honour will be Martha."
"Seriously?" I can't help but scoff. When I'm levelled with a blank stare from Lottie, I try to explain why I think my daughter would make the worst maid of honour in the whole history of weddings but nothing comes to mind. In fact, I think when Martha is given responsibility like that, she excels. "I take back what I said. What else do we need to agree on?"
Lottie and I were taking full advantage of having her parent's house to ourselves. Camille and Jimmy had insisted that they take the grandkids- Martha included- out for the day, meaning Dan and Sophie rushed off in the opposite direction and decided to go to the nearest pub. I think Emma and Adam were walking the ground, sorting out their differences. I'm not sure what's bugged Adam but he's been glaring at his wife like he either wants to kill her or fuck her brains out. A fine line, although Emma is still alive and was more bouncy this morning before leaving.
Still, now that we're alone, Lottie has decided that we should probably plan our wedding. Unconventionally, she was doing this through asking me a million and one things, noting down my answers to each one. So far, we've agreed on a colour scheme, the number of guests, the guest list, a seating plan, whether it was going to be a religious or civil ceremony, the date, the best mand and now the maid of honour. I wasn't quite sure what else we really had left to discuss. The menu, maybe, but I was trusting Lottie to deal with that.
"Can I ask you something?" Lottie turns to look at me, setting the pen and notebook down on the coffee table. "Why Lambesc? I was thinking more of Scotland in the summer."
"Don't know," I confess. "It's attached to a happier memory for me than our disaster of a trip to Scotland. It seems more chilled and the weather is better, the food is better, and when we next go there, you won't be pregnant and we can finally over-indulge on French wine and champagne. What's not to love about that?"
My words are met with a stony stare. "You're not suggesting it because you think that's where I want to get married, are you? Isaac, I would marry you tomorrow in a London registry office, wearing a dress that I bought in the Debenhams sale. I don't need anything fancy, just you, a ring and a wedding certificate. Even then, the ring isn't all that important."
"I chose Lambesc because when we were there, it was the happiest few days I'd had in a long time," I begin to explain as I lean towards her and force her back to lie on the sofa. With my knees on either side of her hips and hands, palm down, on either side of her head, I whisper, "Plus, it's where I decided that one day, I would make you my wife. Seems apt to go back there to actually make you my wife."
A soft noise came from Lottie's lips, making me fixate on them. They moved, as if she was commenting on what I had just said but nothing registered with me; all I could think of was kissing her, throwing her over my shoulder and taking her up to the bedroom. I was formulating a plan of action when I felt a sting on my cheeks. Snapping my gaze from her lips, I see Lottie's hand hovering over the cheek that she had just slapped.
"You weren't listening," she grumbles. With a heavy sigh, her hands move to my chest and push me away from her until I'm sat back on my side of the sofa. With one quick move, Lottie straddles me, her face just centimetres from mine. "I said, if you don't kiss me and ravage me soon, I'll castrate you."
I grin. "Funnily enough, I was about to throw you over my shoulder and take you upstairs to ravage you but if you want to do it on your mother's very expensive looking sofa or on that fluffy looking rug, I'm down with that."
"Really?" She seems sceptical of my suggestions. "You won't follow through on my idea to have sex in every single room of the house and in Martha's place but you have no qualms about going reverse cowgirl in my parent's living room?"
I still gag over the idea of me and Lottie christening Martha's house because that's just gross but right now, I've got a semi and if I don't do something about it soon, I was going to get really frustrated and we both know that a frustrated Isaac just won't do. Shaking my head in wonder about how I ended up with someone as amazing as Lottie, I slap her arse and get to my feet, making sure that Lottie's legs were firmly around my waist and that I had a good hold on her. It would ruin the mood if I dropped her.
As I walked us from the living room, Lottie's lips sucking at my neck, the front door opened and noise filled the house, most notably Léa's screams deafening us all.
"She's such a buzz kill," I groan before loosening my grip on Lottie and setting her down. With the mood now passed by, I can't help but take pity on the tiny baby that was crying her heart out. Walking towards Camille, I gently push her aside and reach in to pick Léa up. "I'm going to check her over because no baby should be this grumbly for no particular reason. Maybe that ear infection of hers has come back. Come on, sweetheart, let Uncle Isaac take a look."
Whenever I saw Dan or Sophie, they always looked exhausted and I knew the source of their sleepless nights was currently in my arms. I know Lottie is sometimes critical of Sophie and Dan's parenting style and there's no denying that Léa isn't the easiest baby but it wasn't anyone's fault. Making my way up to the nursery that Jimmy and Camille had done up for Sera and Léa, I place Léa on the changing mat, turning to see Lottie walking in behind me with my medical bag in her hand. Reaching inside, she handed me some of the instruments I'd need, including the otoscope.
Slipping my hands into a pair of surgical gloves, I begin my examination. Looking inside Léa's left ear, I could see that it was red and angry looking, bulging slightly. There was a bit of yellowish fluid draining and the smell wasn't exactly coming up roses. I looked for my pneumatic otoscope, finding it instantly. I release a puff of air in Léa's ear and see that the eardrum doesn't move. When I check the right ear, it's the same, meaning that more fluid is in the middle ear, compounding the infection and making Léa even more irritable.
"Is she ok?" Lottie asks, her voice full of concern. "Should I call Sophie to come home?"
I nod my head. "Yes, please. While you do that, I'm going to pull in a few favours at work."
Moving Léa into her crib, I leave the room and go to find my phone in the bedroom. Finding it, I scroll through my contacts and find Bob's number in the list. Hitting the green button, I wait for him to answer. A cheerful, "Good afternoon, son," greets me when Bob finally answers, followed by, "How can I help you this fine December 27th?"
"My niece has a raging ear infection and it's not the first one she's had," I begin to explain. "She's almost eight weeks old and I've just had a look and it's not good. Last time, Sophie gave Léa some Calpol and then took her to the doctor who prescribed antibiotics but I'm not sure what exactly they gave. My worry is, if it's acute otitis media and she is continuously given antibiotics, they won't be effective in the future. So I was thinking-"
"Tympanostomy tube," Bob cuts me off, speaking aloud the idea I was about to propose. From the other end of the line, I hear Bob fussing around with the phone in his office. "I'm giving Michelle a ring now to see who is in and what strings we can pull with ENT. Keep your phone switched on and I'll call you back, son. Oh, by the way, a belated Merry Christmas. I imposed a technology ban on Christmas Day because my teenagers are constantly on their phones, iPads, or the internet. As revenge, Hannah and Ryan ganged up and hid my phone yesterday. Anyway, I'll update you when I can."
The call ended just as I heard Michelle Wyatt's voice come through from Bob's other phone. Slipping my mobile into the back pocket of my jeans, I go back to the nursery and see Lottie cradling a screaming Léa, a frown on her lips. Lottie's used to a happy, quiet, fuss-free Sera so having to look after an upset Léa was not something she could handle properly. In fact, for the brief few minutes she'd been charged with looking after her niece, Lottie was looking quite haggard and harassed. That'll teach her for judging Sophie and Dan without seeing things from their point of view.
"Move aside!" I heard a frantic Sophie yell as she stormed through the house, up the stairs and down the hallway. Seeing her wild eyes reminded me of that giant that rugby tackled me that one time back home- it terrified the crap out of me and made me give up the sport. Feeling my blood turn cold at the sight of Sophie, I quickly jump out of the way as she rushes into the nursery and carefully snatches Léa from her sister. "What's happened? Is she ok? What did you do?"
Lottie looked over at me and mouthed, "Help," at me. Waiting until an equally frantic Dan had joined us, I tell them that Léa has another ear infection and that the frequency of the occasions was a little worrying for my liking. Making sure that I didn't alarm them, I reassured them that nothing was particularly wrong but that it wasn't fair to their baby or to them as parents that Léa isn't treated for the recurrence. I didn't mention that I'd put a call into work.
"Is that why she's cranky again?" Sophie asked seconds before she burst out crying. Passing her daughter to Dan, she quickly rushes to me and throws her arms around my neck, her tears soaking my t-shirt. "Thank you! I thought it was something I was doing wrong."
"Nothing to do with you, Sophie," I say, patting her back comfortingly. Since Léa was born, I've seen a different side to Sophie and while I'm sure we'll never be BFFs, at least we can tolerate one another more. My arse cheek vibrated as my ringtone began to sound. Stepping away, I reach for my phone and accept the call from Bob. "What's the verdict, boss?"
I was greeted with a heavy sigh. "How do you feel about working every weekend, completing ENT's paperwork?" I replied with a grunt. "That's the price of getting your niece in to see Michelle for a consultation tomorrow. She's got some free space between two cochlear procedures Friday and it has your name all over it. So, how does that work for you?"
While I didn't want to sacrifice my weekends to completing Michelle's paperwork, looking at the state Sophie, Dan and especially Léa was in, I couldn't let the opportunity pass by. So with a sacrificial grunt, I said, "Perfect."
Ok, so 2 things to discuss:
1. Wedding planning in action!
2. Isaac and Sophie's much-improved relationship.
Comment where appropriate.
Thank you to those who went over to A Wattpad Chrimbo and suggested titles for the Mick/Lyanna chapter that I wrote. If you read it, you'd know that there were three prizes available for the best suggestions, with the first prize being that you could create a character for one of my stories.
The deadline has now passed and I'll be picking the first place winner soon! I cannot wait to pore through them all and see what you came up with. When a winner has been picked, I'll be in touch about the prize because there are certain character types that are off limits! (Sorry if this upsets you.)
Tomorrow, I'll be posting about a one-shot competition and again, there will be a great prize on offer!
See you on Monday for the LAST update of Baby on Board! It's come around really quick and now that it's nearing, I'm getting slightly emotional. *wipes away stray tear*