Gary and Libby - Take Two

Chapter Fifty Seven

"Do you think he'll like it?"

"Im sure he'll love it Gary." I reassure for the umpteenth time since half past 6 this morning as we sit cross legged in the lounge staring at the box of a childs play car set, complete, of course, with a firenegine with working lights and a siren that i am sure will make us both regret buying such a toy for a three year old very quickly. "You know what hes like though, he'll be bored within five minutes. Dont be disheartened when he toddles off will you?" I mumble, hauling myself onto my feet, limbs stiff from pregnancy, yet worsened by being prematurely dragged out of bed to set up Ethans presents. Gary scrambles to his feet quickly to help me, one arm around my waist as if he were assaisting an elderly woman across a busy road. I roll my eyes.

"Im not an invalid you know?"

Im presented with his shy smile, sleep mused and ungelled strands of hair flop over his forehead. "You know i worry."

"Hmm." I agree, slipping free from the protective hold and into the hallway to head to the kitchen. "I had noticed. What time are people coming tonight?" Flicking the kettle i run through the mental list of things i need to do in preparation for tonights tea party.

"Six." Gary pads into the kitchen behind me, instinctively moving to retrieve two mugs from the cupboard. "Ay, I was thinking, you know, and you don't have to if you don't want to- i was just thinking that-"

I yawn, pulling two tea bags out of the red polk-a-dot jar on the counter top. "Spit it out."

"Well, i thought maybe we should start telling people perhaps- about you being pregnant. I mean, youre nearly four months. Have you even told your parents?"

Dropping the tea bags into the mugs just as the kettle gives a final hiss and clicks off, i wince. "No. I didn't want to." My tone is more sullen than i had intended, but the heaviness in my chest is too powerful a force to fight against at six fifty two on a Saturday morning. "Not after what happened last time."

I hear Gary sigh behind me as i turn to reach for the kettle, a long, low, heavy sigh and ive being married to him that long to know that a sigh like that is usually accompanined by four long fingers scratching over the stubble on the opposite cheek. "Libby, thats not going to happen again."

I shrug, not wanting to dampen the mood, but not particually wanting to lighten it either.

"Libby." Garys voice sounds again, louder this time, even over the gush of steaming water being poured carelessly over teabags. And then his left hand is on my waist as his right moves over my shoulder to relieve the kettle from my grasp, then he moves away again, only for a moment though to replace the kettle in its cradle before hes back, hands either side of my waist and spinning me to face him. Only when hes sure im looking dead into the hazel green morning eyes does he speak again, low and slow and certain. "Thats not going to happen again. You hear me? Please don't worry, i couldn't bare to think you were worried. This-" He pulls a hand away from my waist to wave it about in the air, bringing it back down until the tips of his fingertips can caress the swell of my stomach before returning to their previous hold at my side. "It's all going to be ok. Please don't worry. You don't need to worry."

And i don't know why, stood there, in the kitchen at six fifty three on a Saturday morning with the April breeze licking against the window pane and two mugs of tea brewing away behind me as i stand in the arms of my husband, i voice the unspoken truth I've pushed aside for seventeen weeks and three days. "Ive spent the last four months worried Gary."

I barely recognise the pathetic mew that leaves my lips in place of my voice, but i watch none the less as Garys face contorts into an unmistakeable mask of pain and anguish. The frown lines creasing his forehead are deeper now, more apparent and i watch the soft triangle of flesh form amid his marrying brows as he draws them together. And then suddenly im crushed flush against him, trapped in a bone breaking hug as two firm arms cross over my shoulders, holding me so tightly to his chest that i almost cant breathe.