Complicated

Chapter Sixty Six: Mothering Sunday

Sunrise, sunrise
Looks like mornin' in your eyes
But the clocks held 9:15 for hours

Sunrise – Norah Jones

It was Mother's Day and Don was watching his sleeping wife from the open doorway of their dimly lit bedroom. It was early in the morning and he had just returned home from his first week of night shifts since he had gone back to work and he was more than glad to see her.

Grace's body was curled up, pressing against the body pillow she slept with when he was absent. Her lean legs were entwined with the cream sheets that she had pushed off at some point during the night. As usual her right hand was resting upon the baby in her belly. Don wondered if their daughter had been kicking again before Grace had slipped into sleep.

He was content to come home to this. In the months he had been away he had missed his wife and their baby greatly. He had forgotten what it was like to wake up next to her in bed, to become absorbed in her all over again. Since he had moved back it had been almost blissful between the two of them. Grace had been patient and responsive to his needs, she respected his desire for personal space and normalcy. She wasn't offended when he brushed her off or drew away her sometimes.

Don was determined not to get into the same isolated state that had screwed him up in the first place. He knew those days were terrible for Grace and he regretted them but he knew his wife didn't blame him for what happened and that was important to him. The moment he let the guilt crash down again would be the moment everything went to hell and he couldn't allow that to happen, not with his little girl on the way.

His wife's strength and resilience never failed to amaze him. A lesser woman may have served him with divorce papers after the way he had lashed out and in reality he wouldn't have blamed her. The truth was the separation had been the best thing that could have happened to them at that juncture of their lives. If he had stayed it would have got worse and the violence would have escalated into their home and in the end he would have lost both his wife and daughter. Don had been turning into one of the monsters he ultimately despised.

He was trying to make up for that now. He did his best to be affectionate and caring especially since the two of them were re-establishing themselves again. He knew what it meant to Grace to know that he was there now. She had been so strong over the past few months for him and their baby, now it was time for her to lean on him if she needed to. He was making amends for his past actions in the only way he knew how. Don was determined to prove to Grace how much he loved and appreciated her.

The wealth of his love for their child shocked him more than he cared to admit. He had never thought he could love something so selflessly after Grace. She was the one he was meant to be with and he had given his heart and soul over to her from the very beginning of their relationship. Bringing a baby into the mix only made things better, knowing his baby girl was nestled happily within his wife gave him feelings he hadn't felt possible. Don had never felt a bond like this before, every time he put his hand on Grace's swollen belly or spoke against her soft skin there was a connection to his child.

Jennifer Katelyn Flack. Just thinking about his daughter made him break out into a grin that he couldn't stifle. In the last sonogram they had attended Don had been able to listen to the pitter patter of his child tiny heartbeat. It was like listening to a hummingbird through a set of speakers, the sound had brought tears to his wife's eyes and he had barely been able to control the joy that had overwhelmed him.

Don looked down at the silver gift wrapped box in his hands. He had known the instant he had laid eyes upon the ceramic figurine in the jewellery shop that it had been created for his wife. The assistant had gift wrapped it with a golden, silk ribbon.

Don padded quietly across the bedroom shutting the door behind him with his free hand. Grace stirred sensing his presence in the room before Don sat on his side of the bed, fingers combing tenderly through her dark shoulder length hair. He leaned over placing a kiss on the apple of her cheek. Grace wrinkled her nose before turning to lie flat on her back, her grey eyes flickering open.

"Good morning." she mumbled as Don's fingertips chased a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's after seven." Don told her, setting the gift in his lap as she struggled into a sitting position against the head board. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Don reached out and altered the pillows so that she was propped up comfortably. Her hands came to rest on her eight month baby belly as she leaned her head against the wall behind her.

"Happy Mother's Day." Don said slipping the gift box into her lap.

Grace's eyebrows crinkled in surprise as the edges of her lips twitched at the present between her hands.

"Don you didn't have to do this." Grace replied, her entire face lighting up as her fingertips smoothed over the soft material of the golden ribbon.

The sparkle in Grace's eyes and the smile on her face made the gift entirely worth it. Don liked seeing her like this, he loved to see her so happy. Every time she gave him that subdued, intimate smile it touched him deep down inside. God he loved her, how had he ever thought he could live without this wonderful woman?

"It's from Jenny." Don informed his wife. "She said she wanted you to have something special but she's too little to get it herself."

Grace broke into a wide grin, chuckling at her husband's wording as he shuffled into position along side her, adjusting his own pillows. Don leaned in slightly so he lingered within Grace's comfort zone. He wanted her to know that he was close by and he selfishly enjoyed the aura of contentment and love that radiated from her like an aura.

"We talk when your asleep." he teased, using his hand to indicate between himself and the baby bump the present was now resting upon.

"Barely eight months pregnant and already the two of you are conspiring against me." Grace said humorously as she tugged upon the ribbon undoing the bow.

Don sniggered, watching as her delicate hands began to strip away the silver wrapping paper from the cardboard box inside. Grace studied the Willow Tree logo on the outside curiously. They usually made beautiful, simple, hand crafted figurines and memory boxes. She had admired the figures for years but she could never bring herself to buy one for her self. They were gifts with an intensely personal meaning behind them. She had bought her mother the Irish Charm figurine for Mother's Day. Don must have seen her admiring them when he was picking out something for his own mother.

Grace opened up the cardboard box and reached inside gently pulling out the smaller, wooden, square box.

It was stunning. The memory box was fine crafted and hand painted with minuscule hinges. It fit into the palm of her hand just perfectly. The image etched into the front of it was of a faceless mother cradling her new born baby. Grace felt her throat ache at the emotion that pooled in her chest and stung at her eyes.

"Hey, if you don't like it I can take it back." Don said in dismay, misreading the expression on her features.

Grace shook her head using the back of her hand to wipe at the tears leaking from her eyes as she laughed. She couldn't verbalise how moved she was by his actions. This box was the embodiment of everything she felt for this baby and that Don had gotten this for her meant so much. She was so deeply touched by this gift.

"God no I love it." she told him as a smile broke across her face. "It's perfect."

Don opened the box with careful fingers revealing a small, silver greeting card with a gold Celtic symbol embossed onto the front. Grace removed it quizzically before flicking it open to read Don's bold, neat scrawl inside.

Dear Mommy,

I can't wait to meet you.

Love Jenny x

"Oh Don." Grace murmured, her eyes welling up again as Don's arm wrapped around her shoulders drawing her even closer to his warm body.

"Jenny." he corrected quietly, his lips brushing against Grace's temple as she laughed out loud again.

Her delicate hands came to rest just over the daughter nestled deep within the protective confines of her womb as she whispered to their baby.

"Thank you Jenny."