November
HARRY STYLES
Regardless of Camden's desire to have a low-key baby shower, our house was suddenly full of cream, silver, and gold balloons, every bite-sized dessert and pastry known to man was set up in a pleasing array on every flat surface, and there were so many gifts in the living room corner that you'd think it was Christmas. My mother, the party planner, was both to thank and to blame.
At first, I thought it was a bit much when we were such a relatively small group, but my mind was immediately changed when I saw the framed photos of every ultrasound Camden had done since the first. It just reminded me that this whole thing was to celebrate the baby, and I was more than happy to do that.
"Well? What do you think, H?"
I laughed as a first reaction to my mum's question, simply because of the cute satisfied smile on her face. "I think it's great, really. Camden's going to love it."
"Do you think?" She suddenly looked concerned as she studied the dramatic balloon arch. "I know she said she'd just like something small...I just couldn't help myself."
"She just has a hard time letting anyone do anything for her, that's all," I draped my arm around her shoulders, both of us watching Gemma mindlessly adjust the thumbprint cookies and macaroons. "She's really going to love this, though."
"It's so adorable," Gemma agreed. "I'm willing to bet she might even get emotional."
Anne teasingly said she hoped for that as the front door opened. In came Lucy, Molly, Zayn, and Niall, calling out to say that they were home. Both girls gasped on impact when they saw the living room that had been completely transformed, almost beyond the point of recognition.
"It looks amazing, Anne!" Lucy hugged her, "Can you do mine when the time comes?"
"Of course," Anne laughed as she promised Molly the same thing when embracing her next.
While everyone got to talking and catching up, I snuck upstairs to see if Camden was finished getting ready. It was Anne's idea to have her stay in the bedroom so the decor could be a surprise, but she didn't exactly put up a fight if it meant she could be out of the way.
My knuckles rapped softly on the door before I let myself in to see her writing in her journal on the bed. She wore her favorite black cashmere leggings with the matching jumper, and she had decided to put in the effort to apply mascara and blush. Maybe it was cliche, but her skin really was glowing.
"Hi," she smiled at me, clicking her pen shut to set her journal on her nightstand.
"Hi," I dragged my feet across the floor to fall on the bed right by her side, resting my head on her shoulder with my hand splayed out on her belly. At seven months, it was hard to believe that it was going to get even bigger in the next two she had left to go.
"How's it going down there?"
"It's done, everyone's here," I spoke vaguely, more focused on sliding my hand around until I felt that inevitable little kick. I never got tired of that.
"How come it always moves for you?" She muttered. "It's like you have the magic touch or something."
"Well, obviously I have the magic touch," I laughed as the baby gave me another high five...or maybe foot-five. "How else do you think you got pregnant in the first place?"
"Oh my God," she groaned out a laugh. "You're so annoying. Cute, but annoying."
"I'll take it," I picked at the hem of her jumper to see her bare stomach. Every single time I saw it like that, I still didn't understand how there was a baby in there. The science was too perfect that it didn't even seem possible.
