⇾ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮-𝙁𝙞𝙫𝙚 ➪ 𝘿𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠

ꕥ June 25, 1969 ꕥ
11 weeks

"Dammit, Paul," I said, looking in the mirror at the dress I had picked out specifically because of how loose it was. Now, it was doing absolutely nothing to help me.

"What's wrong?" I heard Paul say from our bedroom.

I stepped out of the bathroom and put my hands on my hips. "I'm too bloody fat," I told him with a scowl.

The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile and he moved closer, rubbing his hand along my belly happily. "You're too bloody beautiful, you mean."

I scowled. "This is the loosest dress I own," I told him. "They're gonna know something's different immediately."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't be silly. As long as we don't act weird, they'll never know a thing."

"Your dad might know before we tell him, though," I said. "It seems I'm getting bigger every day."

Paul leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto my forehead before pulling back and smiling at me. "Go get your daughter ready to go," he whispered.

"Button your shirt," I told him, pulling away and going towards the bedroom door. "And fix your hair...and put on a tie...and a jacket—." I tried to find anything else he needed.

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Anything else?"

I smiled. "Nope. You look quite handsome."

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

As we had gotten closer and closer to my parents' house, I felt more and more ill. This was reminding me of my last pregnancy more than anything yet and it certainly wasn't sitting well with me. Mary had already begun to undo the latches on her seatbelt before Paul could even put the car into park. I could tell she was excited to get out of the car finally. She had been awake for the whole ride which was unusual for her. Luckily, we had Martha to keep her company. It seemed there were very few places we ever went where Martha didn't tag along these days. She was basically our second child at this point. Thisbe, however, didn't like to travel, so he always stayed behind.

Before he even unbuckled his seatbelt, Paul turned to me. "It's gonna be alright," he said as if he could read my mind. He knew exactly what I was thinking. "Don't panic and everything will be just fine."

I nodded, but I still had an uncomfortable feeling swirling in my stomach. "And don't you go off acting crazy and giving us away," I added.

He turned to Mary, who had managed to unbuckle her car seat. "Don't you say anything either!" he told her with a wide grin on his face. "Don't tell Gramma and Grampa about the baby, okay?"

She nodded solemnly. "No baby!"

"Yes," I told her as Paul opened his car door and let himself out. "No baby." Before I got out, I reached back and opened Mary's door for her. She and Martha both got out as quick as they could, Paul running up and sweeping down to pick her up and carry her towards the house.

"No baby," she repeated.

"No baby," Paul replied. He reached forward and dragged his finger across her lips like he was doing up a zipper. "Got it?"

She giggled and nodded, burying her head in Paul's shoulder. The front door to my parents' house opened and I looked up to see them standing there, waving at us.

I smiled despite the uncomfortable feeling in my belly and we sped up to reach the porch a little bit quicker. As soon as we were on the porch, they both reached out for a hug. Mary was elated to see them. It always seemed like they had something new for her. My dad was constantly building things for her and Amelia and showing them to the girls while they were here.