 |
|||
|
|
The Spare Room
"Mark, can I invoke privilege and turn a problem over to you? It's been bugging me all day. Hard as I try I just can't find the answer." This was the favorite part of the day for Cathy, cuddling in his arms in bed, talking about anything and everything.
"Of course you can. Handling problems is part of my job description. Tell me about it."
"Okay, here's my dilemma. Abigail, Catherine, Mary Ellen; or Jonathan, Raymond, Andrew. I narrowed it down to those three, depending, but just can't pick the right one. Why don't you decide? Or you can come up with something else."
"Okay, names, now why don't you give me some little clue as to who or what is to be named? Who knows, it might even help if I had some idea of what we are talking about."
Cathy grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach. "In here. A daughter or a son, but it's too early to tell. Or do you want to wait until the last minute? I can ask the doctor not to reveal the sex after the ultrasound."
Mark shot up, almost falling out of bed. "You mean… Are you sure? We're going to have…. Are you okay? We have to tell…"
Cathy started giggling at Mark's flustered half-sentences. She had been biting her tongue all day after she got the news, waiting for the one special moment to tell him.
"I'm fine. I won't start showing for weeks. And I'm sure. We're going to be a threesome. Not that I would ever tell you what to do, master," she paused to make a face, "but you better get busy on the spare room. Hmm, make that the kid's room."
"But how? When? I'm really gonna be a daddy?"
"Now Mark, if I have to explain the how it could take all night. As for the when, as far as I can tell it was the night we went to see the whales. You do remember what happened that night, don't you?"
Mark ran his hand over her stomach, and the new life growing inside. "Indeed I do remember." He paused, thinking. "Cathy, do you want to go back, for the baby? Back to California?"
She put both of her hands of his, on her soon to be growing belly. "No, I think we'll be okay right here. I might have thought different a few months ago, but now I've seen life on the Island. I can raise our child and know he or she won't be forced into a lifestyle they might not want. Is it selfish of me, Mark, to want to stay?"
He stroked her hair. "You have my permission to be selfish. We stay here, in our home."
|
|
|