Personal Chef

Chapter 91

We planned a big party at the condo for Shawn's 25th birthday. It was actually the Saturday before his birthday, since that made more sense than holding it on a weekday. My parents were in town for the birth of baby girl Mendes, so they generously did most of the cooking. I was due in a week and the last thing I needed was to spend a day in the kitchen on my feet. I was so tired these days that I was currently working half days at the bistro and was doing all the paperwork at home with my swollen feet propped up.

The menu for the party was fairly simple. There'd be a huge taco and nacho bar for food. Mexican beer, sangria, and margaritas would be the alcoholic beverages, and fresh lemon and limeade were the virgin drinks for non-drinkers like me. Dessert was chocolate cupcakes with multicolor sprinkles and little candy guitars. Other than some balloons in the dining room, the decorations were minimal.

Before the festivities began, I took a long nap while my parents cooked and Shawn made drinks. When I woke up, I waddled to the closet and pulled out my outfit. It was a simple maternity sundress in a pink and yellow floral pattern.

I'd worn a similar dress in green and blue stripes three weeks before for our baby shower. Shawn's parents had hosted that event at their house. Our baby girl now had everything an infant could need in her cute nursery. The room was simply decorated in mostly white with pink and gray accents. One wall had a wallpaper mural of balloons that had been there when Shawn had bought the place. We kept it because it looked great with the nursery decor.

I put on my dress and went to the bathroom to survey my hair options. I had pretty bad bed head, so I put my red hair up in a messy bun. It looked cute and framed my face nicely. I put on a bit of make-up and joined everyone in the kitchen.

"How was your nap?" Shawn asked as he approached me and gave me a quick kiss.

"Refreshing," I replied.

He placed his hands on my belly. "Has she been active?"

"She was kicking like crazy when I was trying to fall asleep. I think she's napping now."

He loved to touch my stomach and feel our little girl move around. Since he'd been home regularly, we spent every evening on the couch with my shirt up so he could caress my gigantic belly as the baby kicked. She'd recently stopped with any huge movements, like turning over, now that she was in the head-down position. Dr. Abbott said this was a good sign that labor was imminent.

Shawn's family arrived just as we started putting the food out. They insisted I sit down and took over helping my parents. I sat on the couch and watched as everyone else worked. It killed me, but at the same time, I didn't want to be rushing around doing the crazy last-minute party stuff.

My husband got himself a beer and got me a limeade before sitting down next to me.

"You look gorgeous, Chels," he said softly so that no one else could hear.

"I feel fat," I replied.

My weight gain had slowed down to a rate that Dr. Abbott was okay with, but I'd definitely added a lot more than the ideal 20-25 pounds. Every time Shawn was photographed with me, nasty comments rolled in. It hurt to be called fat, but it hurt even more when people insinuated I was no longer good enough for my husband. The worst case of this had been when I'd been in the photo with his sweet fans at the bistro. Because a fan had shared it, instead of it being something he posted, people seemed to think they could attack me.

Shawn leaned close to me and whispered in my ear, "Your ass is amazing, baby. Any extra pounds have been a blessing back there."

I couldn't help but smile. I didn't know how it was possible, but he still found me sexy, even if so many online said the opposite.