The Way We Feel

Chapter 35

The soft murmurs of voices greeted us as we swung open the door to a cute little restaurant on the Lower West Side. Harry's arm was beside me, holding the door open, and cool air beckoned me forward, into sweet relief.

I spotted Emily and Mark right away, at a table towards the back. They hadn't seen me yet, but the host certainly had.

"Hello," he said cheerfully, a smile gracing his handsome features. He was probably college-aged. "How are you tonight?"

"Fine, thank you," I said, feeling Harry come to a halt at my side.

The host's eyes widened just slightly. "Er... how many?"

"Oh, we're actually meeting some family, it looks like they're here already," I said, pointing towards where Emily and Mark were sitting, Emily now waving at us.

An excitement about him now, the host glanced over his shoulder before swinging his arm wide in a gesture that clearly meant, Go right ahead.

Before he could say anything else, or stare at Harry any longer, I started forward. Harry's hand went right to the small of my back, and I hoped he couldn't feel the sweat beading there through the thin fabric of my dress. It was a sweltering hot August evening, and the cab we'd taken over here was only just cooling off when we arrived, because the driver apparently liked to torture himself by keeping the windows down rather than turn the air conditioning on.

I'd had no choice but to ask him to turn it on once we were in the car.

Despite the sleeveless, floral dress I'd worn specifically because I hoped it would keep me cool, I could feel perspiration beading beneath my arms, between my breasts, and in the dip of my lower back, a spot I was all too aware of now that Harry's hand was pressing the fabric into the moisture. Not to mention, I generally still felt awkward and unwieldy in my new body—which, I knew, would only get worse as the baby continued to grow.

"You look so cute," Emily said, standing as we reached the table to give me a hug.

"Sorry, I'm sweaty."

Emily didn't seem to care—she only hugged me tight as ever. My growing belly stood between us, but even I had to admit that I sort of really loved the way it picked up the front of my dress—the way that anyone who looked at me now wouldn't question whether or not I was, in fact, pregnant.

Emily's hand went right to the bump when she pulled away from our hug. "How's our little girl cookin'?"

My hands went to either side of my belly. "Five months along, and she's doing well."

It was still thrilling to say that—she. My appointment was a couple days ago, but I still got so excited because we finally knew a little bit more about this beautiful little life growing inside me.

Which made me impossibly more excited for when she was born.

Emily squealed a little in response, and her hands stayed on my stomach as she asked, "Have you felt her moving yet?"

"In little bits, yeah. Like very soft, fluttery nudges." I ran my hands down the middle of my belly, staring at the bump that would only get bigger. "It's weird and incredible every time."

Emily's brows drew together as she squealed a little more.

Then Mark took a step around her, lifting an arm up to reach for me as I noticed Harry lean in to hug Emily from the corner of my eye.

"How are you?" Mark asked, his head over my shoulder, my chin angled up over his.

"I'm good." My hands fell from around him. And when I backed up to look into his eyes, I could tell something was off. "You?"