What's a Girl to Do? (Season 2)

Chapter Ten: From Now On

The blackness of oblivion greeted me as I got into bed, curling up against the special pregnancy pillow that Fiona had bought for me. All the doctors I'd come into contact with—as well as some self-proclaimed childcare and child-rearing experts—had told me that sleeping on your stomach and back during advanced stages of pregnancy were considered taboo, and I wasn't going to be accused of negligence before Iana was even born. I felt my hand slipping to my stomach in an almost automatic gesture then, as I lay there in the darkness, and stroked the stomach, and Iana rewarded me with flipping around inside me.

"Hi, baby," I whispered, hoping that she thought my voice didn't sound like a ship horn or something equally unattractive. "It's Mommy. I love you," I said quietly, the last of my consciousness leaving me then as my eyes grew heavy and I found my body finally allowed itself to succumb to sleep.

. . .

I went downstairs that first weekend in March feeling more energized than I had in a long time, despite the growth that had developed between my hip bones. Smirking to myself, I was pleased that my tank top still managed to hold everything in place as I trudged downstairs, managing not to trip on the bottoms of my pajama pants as I stepped into the kitchen. Looking around, I quickly saw that Liam was sitting on the couch, watching T.V. with the sound on low, despite the fact that it was close to ten o'clock.

"Hey, little man," I said, bending down over the couch and kissing his forehead. "You sleep well last night?"

"Yes," he replied.

I quickly noticed that the telltale signs that Liam had gotten himself breakfast were strangely absent from the kitchen—there wasn't an upturned box of cereal or spilled milk that greeted my eyes, and I was pleased that he had, somehow, waited. "Did you have breakfast yet, sweetie?" I asked him, instead of asking him about the lack of the mess.

"No," he said. "I didn't want cereal."

I smiled at that. "Well, Iana's craving pancakes this morning," I said, and Liam immediately looked interested, as he often did whenever I brought up Iana. "Do you think we should make her pancakes, Liam?"

"Yes!" Liam cried.

I grinned. "All right, then. Maybe the smell will wake up Ian..."

I walked into the kitchen, Liam at my heels, getting out a bowl, flour, and instructing Liam to fetch the milk and eggs from the fridge, while I reached up onto a high shelf to get the vanilla. "I hope you didn't get lost in there," I joked to Liam.

"Hey, Murph, what are you doing?"

Turning around, the vanilla in hand, I saw that Ian had emerged from upstairs. "Good morning to you, too," I replied, smiling at him, automatically pulling him into a hug. "Liam and I are making pancakes for Iana," I explained.

"Oh, really?" Ian asked, watching as Liam brought me the milk and eggs, but quickly took the latter to make sure he didn't drop them too hard onto the counter. "Iana wants pancakes? It doesn't have anything to do with your craving them?"

I shrugged. "Maybe," I replied. "Maybe not."

Ian smirked. "You are such a bad liar, Murphy!" he said, grabbing me then, and pinning me against him, tickling me. "Give it up! You just want pancakes!"

"Dammit, Ian!" I cried, laughing aloud. "Stop it!"

Ian laughed back before letting me go. "I've got a better idea, anyway. Let's go see Fiona at the diner for breakfast."

I raised an eyebrow, moving a more appropriate distance away, and using Liam for a human shield if need be. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah. That way, we don't get stuck with a dirty kitchen."