Page 31 of Expecting an Argument
The only breaks in my monotonous existence were my doctor’s appointments, now scheduled for every two weeks. For my most recent appointment, I had struggled to climb into Beau’s truck, we spent an hour and a half wordlessly listening to his podcast as we drove to the city, and I got to see the babies on the ultrasound.
They were moving, but I still couldn’t feel them yet. Apparently, they didn’t want anything to do with me either.
I never realized how much I missed working in the hustle-and-bustle of a law office until the only living beings around either couldn’t or wouldn’t speak to me. Sometimes, I would write in my pregnancy journal as if I were talking to my only friend.
Luckily, Ashley would sometimes resurface from the dust of Miss Kaye’s house renovation and we would go on a date. Two days before Christmas, she let me use her buddy pass at the gym on main street to sweat out our frustrations.
“So, John Whitecloud is doing our electrical, right?” Ashley huffed as she conquered the stair-stepper. “He said he’d have to rewire the whole house or else we’re risking a fire with all the outlets we want to install. I wanted to preserve the wallpaper in the foyer at least, but now we’re having to take everything down to the studs!”
I slowly walked on the treadmill next to her and took a sip from my pink cup—I was behind on my water schedule, but Beau wasn’t around to bully me about it. “The stained glass on the stairs is staying though, right?”
Ashley whipped her head toward me, sweat beading onher temples as her green eyes turned murderous. “Ifanyonetouches that window, I’ll hit them with my car!”
The rectangular stained-glass window at the top of the first landing of the stairs was the crown jewel of Miss Kaye’s house. The window wouldn’t have turned many heads when it was installed a century ago, but now it was a rare specimen of craftsmanship. The design was a perfect marriage of the natural, sinuous curves of the Art Nouveau era and the geometric structure of the early Art Deco era. The glass was a harmonious mixture of marbled greens, golden amber, and a hint of lavender.
It was simple, but I loved it.
“Maybe I can find new wallpaper to complement the window?” I suggested. “I need an activity.”
“Yes!” Ashley cheered. “You’re so good with historical crap and the donors willlove it.Tyson posted a how-to video recreating one of the dowels for the front porch railing and preservation enthusiasts ate it up. We’re getting more donations by the day!”
I laughed. “I can always donate more, you know.”
“Babies come first, not us,” Ashley chided. “By the way, I love your new workout set.”
I smiled, feeling confident in my icy lavender maternity leggings and matching longline bra that was nursing compatible. Paired with new walking shoes that cushioned my sore feet, I felt almost human.
Was it a practical, useful purchase? Yes. Was it expensive as all hell? Indeed, but I considered it part of Beau’s reparations for every time I vomited until my body shook.
Since my only job was gestating my twins and processing my ever-changing emotions alone, I started giving into my more destructive urges. I cycled between refusing any of Beau’s help, even food, or burning through my “child support” card out ofspite.
I hid my turmoil about using Beau’s money in my pregnancy journal. I had promised myself I would never rely on a man to survive, and yet…
Guilt rained down my back when the packages from my first shopping haul came in, but at least I knew my new credit card was a well I could never see the bottom of. I might as well have kept some of my promise to fund the Kaye house renovation. My donation wasn’t hundreds of thousands of dollars like I had originally planned, but Ashley still almost fainted when I transferred her some of that sweet Fontaine money.
“Oh! The kids’ Christmas presents are in the back of the car,” I said. “Remind me to grab them before we leave.”
Ashley groaned. “I wish we weren’t going to my dad’s for Christmas, I hate leaving you in Elren alone. When is Beau coming back?”
I shrugged. “No idea. He just told me he had to travel for work and then he got on his plane—”
“He has aplane?”
“And a helicopter too, apparently.” I took a short sip of my water. “But I don’t know where he’s going or what he’s doing. The man tells menothing,Ash.”
She pushed a button to slow the stair-stepper as she began her cool down. “I once heard a rumor that his family was part of some weird rich-person sex cult. Maybe he’s on his way to a cult meeting where they drink blood and have masked orgies.”
I started my cool down too, taking the speed of the treadmill from slow to extra slow. “I shower with a mural of a naked woman and spit my toothpaste into a clamshell sink. Anything about the Fontaine family is plausible at this point.”
After our workout, I slipped on my new dove gray sweatshirt that read “Twin Mom,” gave Ashley her stack of Christmas presents and a big hug, and got into the car to drive back to themanor.
The Christmas lights lining main street warmed the twilight sky and guided my way back to Fontaine Manor. Titus was waiting for me in the cold, empty foyer when I returned.
I looked around the foyer and frowned. A house that big without a strand of greenery or a single glimmer of tinsel at Christmas was a crime. I supposed it would have been illogical for Beau to decorate if he was planning to travel, but I was still here!
And I wasn’t alone either. I had the twins…and Titus.
My thirty-minute walk at the gym had energized me instead of exhausting me for once. For the first time since I could remember, I felt a little like my old self again—productive, inspired, and, dare I say it, capable.
