Falling Walls (III)

Chapter 8

Sitting across from Tom on the plane from Delhi to Frankfurt, I couldn't stop but watch him work on his desk. The past days had gone by in a blur. We had been so busy that I couldn't recall the events in the right order even if I tried. We'd visited the factory, attended meeting after meeting, I got to know some of the families who lived on the village grounds and initiated the refurbishment of the existing school and the establishment of a child care centre. Tom had been busy finalising the contract. He had been working a lot, but made sure to get enough sleep and he had not been taking any more pills.

He wants a baby! I couldn't stop thinking. When Tom told me - no, offered - to cancel my appointment with Dr O'Brien, my heart had almost stopped. It wasn't that I didn't want another child, but having a third child had just not been on my list ever since the twins were born. Three kids had always been my idea of the ideal family. It had just not been an option in reality in my messed up relationship with Peter. And Tom, he had made clear from the beginning that children had never been on his agenda. Not too long ago he completely lost it over the vague idea of me being pregnant. His reaction had been exaggerated, but I couldn't really blame him. But now, such a change.

I had been so overwhelmed with Tom's confession, his longing for a child of his own, that we had not come to a conclusion. We both agreed that we were not against it, but I just needed to warm up to the idea. And Tom, he could probably use some more time to think about it as well.

Do I want another child? I asked myself, watching Tom concentrated typing away while I was holding my IPad in front of me as a pseudo activity. No way could I concentrate on anything but Tom. A baby? Sleep deprivation! Weight gain! Zombie Lisa! Moody Lisa! As much as I loved Emma and Sam, the first years had been a struggle. Would Tom and I survive that? Money wouldn't be an issue. But apart from that, would anything be different? What if Tom can't handle the screaming, my frumpy look, moods? Just because he discovered that he enjoys spending time with my pre-teen kids doesn't mean he is ready for a baby. My thoughts did somersaults.

A baby? - Tom's baby! Tom is so different from anyone I've ever known. He doesn't let people down. He wouldn't let me down. And for Tom to come forward with the idea of a child, he must be sure. With all that he's been through as a child, he wouldn't let his own child suffer. We will have problems. But Tom will get up at night, I'm sure. He'll change nappies. He's so amazing with Sam and Emma, with me. Yes, I want his child. I want us to be complete!

A silent grin crept over my face at the same time as Tom looked up, responding with a radiant smile which lit up his entire face. He seemed so happy, so contend with himself.

Both kids were fast asleep in their cabins. Being sure of our privacy, I put my IPad down, holding Tom's glare. Deliberate, I walked towards him, my heart racing with anticipation. Tom was leaning back in his chair, waiting for my next move. Squeezing through the empty space between him and the desk, I propped myself up on the desk in front of him, self-consciously throwing one leg over the other. I could tell he was trying to stay serious, but failed immensely. The grin on his lips and the sparkle in his eyes gave it away. When I didn't move, only my legs dangling back and forth in the air, Tom folded his arms behind his head, showing me that he was enjoying the game.

"What now?" He asked rough, lowering one of his arms to my leg. Gently, the smooth tips of his fingers touched my sensitive skin, travelling from my knee up to the rim of my skirt, where they came to a halt. His eyes followed the trail of goose bumps he'd left behind, but then moved questioningly up to meet mine. Using my foot to push him back in his seat, I caught my balance by leaning backwards on my arms. By doing so, my skirt moved upwards to an indecent height, exposing my black underpants. My foot still pinned Tom to his seat. He didn't try to resist, instead folding his arms behind his head once more, grinning wickedly. I hadn't planned this, and neither was I used to instigate games. Without knowing what else to do to seduce my fiancé, I lowered first my leg leisurely off his chest, then myself off the desk, using my feet to push myself off. Pleasurably, I slid onto Tom's lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, while his found their way to my back.

"Practice," I whispered in his ear, even though no one was around to hear. He knew what I meant, the smile against my check leaving no doubt.

*** *** ***

"Are you nervous?" I asked Tom when we approached for landing. Leaning over a hot cup of coffee, he looked ridiculously amazing with his tousled hair and bathrobe. It should be forbidden to look so stunning after a flight around half the world. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple emerging slowly and tense. "As long as you're happy, I am. But I still think we should drive ourselves."

"Opa always picks us up," Sam announced, pocking his head through the door frame of the dining room.

"He's right," I agreed. "He'd be offended if we get a rental car from the airport.

Tom smiled shyly, his insecurity and nervousness clearly showing. He'd never, in his adult years, had to impress anyone. Everyone was jumping at his every whim. And while I was sure that most parents would have been thrilled to learn about their daughter dating Tom, even if for the wrong reasons, mine had not been. So badly did I want them to accept Tom. He deserved it, needed the knowledge that he was worthy, not for his wealth, but for the person he was. He just didn't know how much he needed this affirmation. When my parents saw him, us, I was sure they would love him as much as the kids and I did.

Sam joined us at the table, helping himself to a cup of hot chocolate, as the plane continued its gradual decent. Scowling, he wiped away the kiss I planted on his cheek. But I did notice the hint of a smile on his lips.

"We're getting ready for landing," the stewardess announced. "If you would please move over to your seats!"

Climbing down the airstairs, inhaling deeply the fresh early morning air, the cool breeze gave me goose bumps. As expected, it was overcast. I didn't really mind. A welcome feeling of being home crept through me. My jacket was in my handbag, but I was way too excited to seeing my dad that I didn't want to delay our reunion. Tom, who was leaving the plane last had noticed though. Without stopping, he took my bag out of my hand from behind and wrapped his jumper around my shoulders and I took his hand into mine. Stepping through the entry door to the airport arrival hall, Tom came to a halt. The kids had already rushed through. Surprised, I looked at Tom. He didn't seem to notice, being caught in his own thoughts looking dreamily at the entrance. As the large door closed on us again, the dark glass reflected the image of us, standing hand in hand. Placing my hand on Tom's back, I felt a small shudder go through him. He exhaled deeply, only once, then squeezed my hand tightly, as to reassure himself, and led me through the door. The kids were waiting for us in front of the customs counter.

And then, we walked around the corner. It all was so much easier then when flying with a commercial airliner. Should I have reminded my dad that we'd arrive in a different terminal? I'd only told him once, not wanting to make a big deal of arriving in a private plane. But there he was, waiting for us, wearing a massive smile which stretched from the centre of his mouth all over his face, deepening the large wrinkles around his lips and eyes. The kids ran towards him, while I eagerly pulled Tom behind me. Not having to carry our own luggage out was one other advantage of flying private.

My dad swirled the kids around who flew into his arms, before he pulled me into a big bear hug. My face pressed against his woollen jumper at the height of his chest and the familiar smell of mum's laundry powder filled my nose. It always surprised me how something simple as that could wake my homesickness, but the same feeling always overcame me when my mum sent clothes over for the kids, always pre-washed. I loved my dad, and I loved my mum. Our dissensions were probably just built up in my mind.

After dad pushed me back at arm's length to examine me, he turned to Tom, keeping his arm wrapped around my shoulder. The moment was a bit awkward, with Tom and my dad both looking at each other, not knowing how to greet each other. Reminding myself that I'd always been a terrible host and very negligent when introducing people, I quickly made up for my fail. Following a formal introduction, the two men shook hands, and my dad even brought himself to pat Tom's shoulder briefly. I decided at that moment that I'd forget all my reservations and believe that our visit to Germany would be great.