⇾ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙮-𝙊𝙣𝙚 ➪ 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙮

ꕥ December 24, 1966 ꕥ
35 weeks

"Hello, hello," my mother said to Paul and me as we entered the kitchen, offering up a warm smile. She was really good at pretending she liked us right now.

"Hello, Mrs. Taylor," Paul responded with a bright smile.

"Please, call me Alice," she replied.

I felt confusion bubble up inside of me. Every time I had seen her since she'd found out I was pregnant, she had always been rather hostile towards Paul and me, so to see her acting so inviting now was completely mind-boggling.

Martha entered the room, forcing herself in between Paul and I's legs.

"And you must be Martha," my mother said, leaning down to brush a hand through her shaggy fur. She had just been groomed in honor of the holidays, but her hour-long journey in the car had ruffled all of her fur up again. Martha's tongue lolled out of her mouth as she let my mother pet her on the head. She was clearly enjoying herself.

"Martha likes the rosette cookies," I told her with a laugh. "I made a few extra just for us while Paul was out last night."

"Well, who wouldn't like the rosette cookies? They're great, aren't they, Martha?"

My mother stood back up straight and went to wrap me in a hug. I stiffened in complete surprise, but then hugged her back. When she pulled back and turned to go back towards the kitchen, I looked over at Paul nervously. What in the hell was happening? Paul had an equally confused look on his face. Even Arabella looked puzzled.

"Martha!" Amelia shouted, coming up to put her arms around the dog's neck. "Can we go outside?"

"Of course!" Arabella said. "Let's put your coat on." She reached forward and took her daughter by the hand, tugging her along. Martha followed along too as they went to the front door to get Amelia's coat.

Paul turned to me. "What just happened?" he asked me quietly.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, looking over at him too. "I was wondering the same thing. I-I'm gonna go put these in the kitchen. I'll be right back, alright?"

Paul nodded with a smile and then sat there presents in his arms under the tree and turned towards Arabella and Amelia. "I've got Martha some toys," he told the little girl and her face lit up. "How about I go get them?"

I smiled and turned around to go towards the kitchen, leaving them behind.

I met my mother cooking something at the stove. I hesitated before setting down my cookie bowl and going over to her. "What is this?" I asked her. "You suddenly love me again?"

She looked up at me and pursed her lips. "Juliette, I've always loved you."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it," I murmured, placing both of my hands on the counter and looking down at them with a deep frown on my face.

"I never said I didn't love you," she responded evenly. "I just can't support this. It's wrong."

I immediately felt my throat tighten, but I didn't want to give in to my emotions. Not in front of her, at least. "Right. But, will you love the baby?" I asked.

"Yes," she said briskly, but I wasn't so sure. She loved Amelia, didn't she? I wasn't even really sure about that, to be honest. It was so hard to tell what it was that she was thinking that I couldn't even attempt to. It was practically impossible.

"Well, if you didn't care, you wouldn't have given us gifts," I offered up bitterly.

"Courtesy," she said. "I'm not rude."

I shook my head in disbelief. "That's what you're worried about?" I asked. "I think we're way past that point." I looked at her so that he could see the hurt in my eyes. I wanted her to know how much the words hurt me.

My mother took a deep breath. "Why do you have to bring this up now?" she asked. "It's Christmas."

"Because I'm having a baby next month and I need to know how you're going to bloody treat it. Forgive me, but it's kind of a priority for me."

I saw her roll her eyes slightly and we fell silent. I heard someone wander into the kitchen behind us, and I turned, thankful to have an excuse to leave the uncomfortable subject behind. It was my father strolling into the kitchen. He smiled warmly when he saw me. Of the two of them, he definitely seemed like the more supportive one. To be honest, it was quite surprising.

Behind him, Paul entered the room as well. He noticed the upset look in my eyes and frowned. He could immediately tell something was wrong.

"How was the drive up?" my father asked me, coming in to give me a hug. I accepted it gratefully.

"It was fine," I replied. "I'm glad we're here now, though."

He nodded. "Well, we're glad you're here," he responded. Then, he turned to Paul. "And you, Paul." At the baby shower, my father and Paul had talked quite a bit and found that they actually had a lot in common. Since then, Paul seemed a lot calmer around him. He still wasn't particularly fond of my mother, but he was able to put up with her for the sake of the baby.

"Hope you're doing well, sir," Paul said with a bright smile.

"He's polite," my father said to me teasingly and I chuckled, pushing past him and going over to Paul. My father began a conversation with my mother, and Paul took me by the hand, practically dragging me from the kitchen. "What'd she say to you?" he hissed.

I sighed. "Nothing," I told him, but by the hard look on his face, I could tell that he wasn't buying it in the slightest.

"Don't lie to me," he said to me, rather sternly.

"Paul, I don't want to do this right now. I'll tell you when we leave."

"No," he pushed. "Tell me now."

I frowned. "I don't want to," I retaliated, crossing my arms stubbornly.

Paul was clearly annoyed at the way I was acting. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to act like an idiot," I replied. "I know how you are when you're mad. Look at how you're acting right now!"

He bit his lip nervously. He knew that I had won. "I just hate seeing you so upset," he said, his voice softening.

I scowled. "Then don't get mad at me like that," I told him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, giving me a slightly shameful look.

I shook my head and sighed. "It's alright. Don't worry about it," I replied, reaching to remove my coat.

"Here, let me help," Paul said, going around to slip the coat from around my shoulders.

"Thank you," I responded with a grateful smile.

"You gonna help me now?" he teased and I rolled my eyes with a giggle as he took his coat off and went to hang them both on the coatrack by the door.

I went and sat down on the couch, thankful to be off of my feet finally. I let out a long sigh and felt Paul sit down next to me. "Hey, y'know what?" he said to me quietly, maybe so that no one else could hear us.

"What?"

"It's our first Christmas." He smiled. "I can't wait until Mary can celebrate with us next year."

I smiled. "Me either," I responded, putting my hands to my stomach and feeling the movement of the baby inside. "I think she's excited too," I told Paul, leaning back against the couch comfortably.

"Who wouldn't be excited to spend Christmas with me?" he teased with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "Self-centered," I commented.

"Am not," he retaliated.

"Are too," I said, sitting up and placing a kiss on his cheek. Then, I stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom," I told him.

"Well, I think that I am going to go play with Martha and Amelia," he said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'll meet you out there," I replied.

"Oh, I know you will." He grinned lopsidedly.