006:

Monday morning.

I rarely wake up before Rafe anymore. I feel sleepy, a thing I have never felt before. Weary--- tired--- exhausted even. But just to be sleepy?

Rafe was there, but he was sitting up, bare naked with just a sheet covering his lower half, as he read his scriptures faithfully. He set the iPad aside as he noticed I was awake. In his hand were two saltine crackers which I took without moving and nibbled as carefully as I could. Rafe wound two magnetic bracelets around my wrists gently and then slipped out of bed. I'd told him his body odors made me retch in the mornings. He acted like this did not offend him, but I had the feeling he was saddened. More than that--- it curtailed our lovely a.m. affections.

Not married two months and already finding reasons not to have sex.

I felt unreasonably emotional.

As I lay there, trying not to move, a hot cup of steaming chamomile tea appeared on the night- stand next to me. I reached for the hand that had put it there and brought it to my cheek, keeping my eyes closed, I mumbled my thanks. I felt the slight change in air pressure as Rafe knelt beside the bed, held my hand and offered our morning prayer. Then--- because he couldn't stand not to, he lifted the sheet, laid his palm against my flat bare stomach and leaned in. The sheet billowed over his head, as he surveyed the landscape. Pretty soon I heard him whispering, not sure what all he said, but I know he said it to his child, growing away inside like a little tadpole.

The cooler air went away, I kept my eyes closed and slowly forced myself to sit up. Nausea assailed me momentarily, but I'd learned to give it a second, then sip my tea. I let my legs dangle, reached for the tea, felt the gurgling, and hoped it wasn't going to be a throw-up day despite our best efforts.

I heard music in the other room and knew Rafe was making our smoothies, hoping that today would be a non-throwing up day for both of our sakes. It was like once I got started, I couldn't stop.

I felt him come into the room. "Number?"

"A two." I replied. On a scale of one to ten—one being the least and ten being the most--- how much nausea was I currently feeling?

"Music?"

"Sure." I heard the speakers hum to life in our room.

In a moment, I sat up all the way and opened my eyes. I wasn't feeling too sick. I reached for the cup again and found myself able to not only hold it, but sip it.

"James is coming."

"New schedule?"

"Yeah, we'll try it and see how it goes."

"What time?"

"Seven."

"What time is it now?"

"Six-fifteen."

"Okay." I finished the tea and stood, taking the cup into the kitchen. I made it to the sink and barfed down the garbage disposal, Rafe at my side instantly, holding my hair out of my face, as I dripped and choked and sputtered. A nice clean non-scented wet washcloth appeared in my hand. I held it to my lips and wiped myself up.

His dark eyes were intense on me, as I focused finally on him and the room at large. He'd been outside, on the patio it looked like--- but the fog had rolled in and the dawn was barely glowing over the ocean. I saw his notebook on the counter, his guitar leaning against the couch and his piano bench was out.

I turned and leaned against the counter. Both of our phones were plugged in there. Our plant was shriveling near the water spigot. I turned to give it some water and Rafe looked up from his perch on the piano bench. "No. It's got root rot from too much water. Let it be."

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"How about we do five gifts?" He suggested, pulling my blanket off the couch to wrap me in it.

The wedding gifts, hundreds of them, were in his bare naked living room stacked against the wall. We'd opened quite a few, and started putting them in piles: pile one for things we were keeping, pile two for things we were not. On the floor between pile one and pile two was a little heavy cardboard box painted with pink flowers and a lattice work. Inside were my thank you notes, my kindle with all the addresses either my mother or Janice had used, and pens.

I slowly made my way to this spot as Rafe kept his distance. He eyed me for the sign that smells no longer bothered me and sipped his own smoothie. I couldn't look at it—the color alone was making me sick.

I lowered myself casually, hoping not to disturb the little bing bong swimmer inside me, who may or may not be sleeping. Rafe sat near the other side of the piles and reached for a box. He opened it, revealed the crystal bowl from an Aunt of his, I dutifully wrote it down and started the thank you note. The motion of pen and the smell of the paper did it. I jumped up and made it back to the kitchen sink.

Determination set in. I made it back to the floor, plopped, and lifted the pen. This time, Rafe got four more packages unwrapped before the front gate chime ding donged and I pulled up my blanket in resignation. "Tell him to start. I will be there in a minute."

I made it to the shower. Rafe let James in and downstairs they went to start their taekwondo session. I slowly dried off, donned my workout clothes and forced my feet down those gnarly stairs. The smell in the room had been newly lemon-ized as that smell didn't seem to bother me. Rafe looked up as I entered, didn't say anything because he knew that bothered me, and simply moved over so I could join him.

James did not take it easy on me. If I felt sick, I simply had to take it easy on myself.

By the end of the workout I was feeling better.

James bowed us out and Rafe leaned against the wall drying the sweat off his neck.

"So, you're heading into ABCSC this morning?"

"Yes. And you're working on the music video?"

"In the morning for a bit. Then we're going to Ben's for practice time, and then we'll get some lunch. Where do you want to meet?"

I went into the bathroom, the loveliest room in this house if you ask me. The lights came on as I entered, the music softly started playing, and the heater chimed above me. The towel warmer let off a little beep as it came to life. Rafe came to the door. I looked back over my shoulder at him and batted my eyes.

That was all the invitation he needed. He slowly stripped out of his workout clothes, dropping them in the white wicker hamper, he leaned into the walk in shower and turned on the water, letting the steam fill the room. Then he came to me.

Slowly he lifted my top exposing my bare stomach, my chest, and my shoulders. With unerring precision, his fingers started their now familiar quest, and my arms rose to tower over us, as my knee rose to rub against him--- and that was more than enough----

He wore jersey button exercise pants and a hoodie, with a concert t-shirt under it. His hair looked messy but wasn't, and his scruff had been trimmed to perfection. He stood in the bathroom doorway and just watched me apply makeup.

"When do you want to move upstairs?" The master bedroom was upstairs, but so far we had not made it up that far. In two weeks we'd made it to the dining table, the couch in the den, the den floor, the stairs, the bathrooms, and the guest bedroom.

I widened my eyes speculatively. "What new and exotic ways have you got to make love to me up there? And when we're done there, what about next door?"

He came in and wrapped his arms around me from behind, looking at us over my shoulder in the mirror. "Come with me to the studio today. You can be in the video."

"I saw the script, there are no girls in this video."

"Background girls." He nuzzled my neck. "Aubrey, I want you."

"You have me."

"I know, but I want you again."

"You've had me a lot."

"Aubrey...." He wasn't whining, and he wasn't serious, but it made me feel good to be so wanted.

"Meet me for lunch in the cafeteria at ABCSC. Remember the cafeteria at Rosewood? Remember Macy? There's another Macy."

"Heaven forbid!" He pulled my hair out and examined it for tangles. There were a million. "I would like to see your office, and see the famous ABCSC."

"Then it's a date." I twirled in his arms and kissed him sexily, as sexily as I could without feeling miserably like I was going to throw up. I couldn't ever let him know how yucky I felt constantly.

"I am afraid that you are about to get so busy with work again, that it'll be three months till you surface. There is a precedent set for that."

"I leave sticky notes."

"And then you left the state!"

"Sorry. But remember---." I held up my cell phone. "Now I have your number." His hands fell to cradle my flat tummy.

"You're taking my child away from me."

I laughed. "Bound to happen sooner or later. Where I go he goes."

"Oh ho!" He followed me out to the kitchen where I started putting saltines in a baggie. "You admit it's a he!"

"I admit nothing!" I zipped the baggie and turned as Rafe's housekeeper peered around the corner. 

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