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Give A Little Bit

"Mom, where's my hairbrush?" Callie yelled, running through the house, shaking her hair from the hair tie that once secured her messy bun on top of her head. "Mom!" She shouted again, finally landing in the doorway of her mother's bedroom. She stood there for a minute, cocking her head to one side in curiosity and confusion. Stevie was sat in the middle of her bed, atop the covers, legs criss-crossed. Her hands rested on her belly and her eyes were closed. She breathed in and out.

Puff, puff, blow. Puff, puff, blow.

"Uh...mom?" Callie asked finally, watching the strange form of meditation.

Breathing in deeply through her nose and out of her mouth, Stevie slowly opened one eye. "Yes, Calliope."

"What are you doing?"

"Lamaze breathing, trying to get ready for birth."

Callie stepped into the room and sat down at the fpot of her mother's bed. "Does it help?"

Stevie opened both her eyes and stretched her legs. They were getting stiff, and falling asleep already. "No, not really."

"Then why are you practicing?" Callie arched her eyebrow and searched her mother's eyes for an answer. Seemed pretty stupid to practice something that didn't work.

"Well, I went to Lamaze classes with your father when we were pregnant with you and your brother then with Iris, we watched the dvds. This time...it's tradition."

"Nostalgia." Callie said, without it being a real question.

Stevie smoothed her stomach. "Right."

"I thought nostalgia would be listening to the Spice Girls or something. Just because it brings back memories, doesn't mean you should do it." Callie wrinkled her nose. She was never really a fan of the girl band she remembered her mother blasting while cooking breakfast in the morning when she was small. She much preferred the classic rock, alternative or even grunge era stuff her dad liked.

Stevie snorted with laughter and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Tell us how you really feel, Calliope." Callie was always honest, sometimes too honest.

"You know it freaks me out when you use my full name. It usually means I'm in trouble."

"You're not in trouble, I'm just concerned."

"About what?"

"Your father and I have been talking and he's losing his mind with worry about this party."

"I know, but he told me everything was fine and his mind was at ease."

"Ha! No, definitely not." Stevie said. "He's driving me up the wall with questions and worst case scenarios."

"Should I talk to him again?"

"I'm not sure what will help. I think we have to show him things are going to be okay. Show him your outfit, keep your phone charged and call us or message us. Keep him posted so he doesn't keep bothering me. I need my rest."

Callie smiled, moving toward the head of the bed to fluff her mother's pillows. "I know. I will text him as much as he wants." She looked pensive for a moment. "Actually, do you think he will take me?"

"To the party? Of course. You may not get him to leave though."

The tall brunette rolled her eyes, smoothing the ruffle that ran along the border of the bedspread with her hands. "I didn't think about that."

"Finish getting dressed then ask. I will give him a firm talking to if he isn't on his best behavior."

"Thanks, mom." Callie said, hugging her mother. She pulled back suddenly, yawning.