Aubrey (Axis Rising)

059:

*****059:

I returned the children to Aubrey's bedside around 4pm, after my recording and then the stint at the show downtown, doing some coaching and some rehearsing and some meeting with producers, and the other coaches, and some candid photo interviews, with the kids for that one.

 I wasn't sure how I felt about that. We'd tried harder to keep the kids out of the lime light, but it wasn't really possible to do that and be normal people. This is daddy's work. I could tell my five year old was getting tired though, so I cut it a half hour short and got her home just as she fell asleep.

Abbie was outside playing with Rein, JoJo, and Kaye when I got there. Kaye was more than disappointed that Felicity was zonked out, but Lance who was just coming out of the guest bathroom on the other side of the house, near where he stayed when he stayed with us, ushered his daughter out of Aubrey's room so Lissie could take her nap. It didn't happen often, but when it did, we'd all learned it was necessary.

"You sticking around?" Aubrey whispered, lightly pulling a soft fleece blanket over Felicity's bare arms.

"I think I'm going to go take in a session. I'm feeling fried, and I've got some stuff on my mind to work out." I told her, running a hand through my hair. Maybe it was time to shave it. Maybe tonight we'd shave all of us, me, Rein and Virgil.

"A temple session?" She queried, even though she knew the answer already, her eyes were round in concern.

I sat on the edge of her bed. "What have you been up to today? Crocheting?"

"Yeah." I knew she'd never lifted a crochet hook in her life. Aubrey's style was medical journals and watching YouTube medical procedures.

I leaned closer, one hand on either side of her hips. "I love that you crochet."

"I know you do." She whispered.

"Any more contractions? Is today the day?"

She shook her head. "I'm still hanging in there, shooting for thirty-five weeks. At least."

"Aubrey--- thirty-five would be awesome, you know that, a medical anomaly, and I know that's what you're hoping for, the write up in the journals." I tapped her tablet, well aware that she read medical journals all day. "But you're not your mom."

She looked away. "I thought today might be the day and I felt like my world was crashing down, Rafe."

"I know. But it's time to think about what if."

She shook her head, those round blue eyes searching mine. "Statistical denial?"

I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You know how much you detest people who live in fantasy medical worlds."

Her lips pulled into a slightly pouty frown. Aubrey's pouts weren't usually real, though. They were an ironic symbol of her disdain for pouty women--- without being said.

"If I'm not my mom, then why am I having naturally conceived quintuplets? It's got to be genetic. There's no such thing as this kind of coincidence."

"You're still not your mom. Nobody's pregnancy experience will ever be exactly like someone else's, even their mom's."

"Do you feel the accident wasn't an accident?" She leaned her face into mine.

I shrugged, as close to nonchalant as I could be in the face of my current assessment of the Sonora cartel situations in our life. I refused at this junction to tell her anything more than what she needed to know. And she didn't need to know much.

"I think the police are investigating it. And until proven otherwise I'm going to say... accident, with a leftover casualty being interrogated down at the precinct." The guy Mutt had decked had been taken in for questioning, and probably treatment.

I thought I should have a follow-up phone call for that one real quick here.

I rubbed her belly. "I have an idea, Aubrey angel. What if you get online and figure out the baby bed-baby-clothes-baby-seat-baby-swing-baby-bottle situation? I know your mom brought a whole bunch of clothes and washed them and folded them and put them away in drawers, and that's all well and cool, the whole hand me down idea, very cool, but what if we wanted to buy our first kids a present, or matching outfits for pictures, or even matching blessing outfits? How about you go online and get all that ordered?"

"That sounds stressful."

"Okay, how about I do it?"

"That sounds more stressful."

"Not for me. You know I love spending money."

"I know you do."

"So, you want me to do it, or do you want a say so?"

"I want a say so. So, you'll be back in a couple of hours?"

"Yeah, I'll just do one session." I felt her sigh against my arms, this rising and falling of heaviness.

"I can't wait to get my body back." She whispered, and there was that emotional catch that had started to turn up when she was having an inner pity party.

"Me too." I leaned a little closer and rubbed against her side. "I miss us."

She'd been very accommodating even though we couldn't actually..... do it, but I was not suffering any. I did miss the closeness, though.

I saw that my words had hit a mark, unfortunately. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a lone tear slipped out the corner.

"Hey--- it won't be long and you'll be back pumping iron, chicka." I assured her. "Once these munchkins are out----."

"You don't understand what that will look like. Some women after having multiples, have to have plastic surgery to remove the excess skin."

"Did your mom?"

"No."

"Elasticity is probably hereditary too."

She nodded and rubbed her face against my arm. "You're right. Go to the temple for both of us. I'll see you in a little while."

"Be here when I get back." I slid off the bed and waved to her from the door.

Poor little prego girl. Even I felt sorry for her.

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