Page 103 of Tiers of Joy

“Changed your mind about moving in with me yet?” Gaige asks.

“I'm swaying towards a yes.” I mutter.

“Um, Esme, if you do move in with Gaige, I have an idea to run past you.” Amy says nervously.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“What if you made upstairs into a café/seating area?” She states.

I pause for a moment and then smile.

“Do you know what? I think that’s a great idea! There’s a small kitchen upstairs that can house the coffee machines. I could take out the bath and have Bob split the bathroom into two separate toilets. Oh! I could have a few bookcases up there for people to sit and read a book if they chose!” I say excitedly.

“What do you think Gaige?” I ask.

“Does it mean you’ll be moving in with me?” He asks.

“Yes, it means I’ll be moving in with you.” I smile.

“Then it’s the best fucking idea.” He laughs.

He cups my face and kisses me.

“I’m moving in with you.” I whisper across his lips.

“Damn straight.” He smiles.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Turns out that to Gaige moving in with him meant that night. We packed up most of my things. I told him I was coming back for my rocking chair because it would go in the baby’s nursery.

Bob was happy to change the bathroom and bring upstairs to regulation for me. Luckily, I hadn’t just paid out for a new bathroom suite.

I’ve just locked up the bakery for the day and I’m heading back home. I said I would swing by the grocery store on the way back so I walk down and pop into Nellie and Eric’s.

I grab my groceries and head to the checkout.

“Hey there Esme.” Eric greets.

“Hiya Eric.” I smile.

“Congratulations on the pregnancy.” He says kindly.

“Thank you.” I answer.

“Your breasts giving you trouble yet? Nellie had terrible pains in her breasts; they grew so big she looked like she had a couple of soccer balls strapped to her chest.” He laughs,

I just smile awkwardly.

“Oh and after she gave birth they just deflated! Now they look like a couple socks with tennis balls hanging in them. The kids sucked the life right out of them.” He sighs as if he’s mourning a dead pet.

“Oh and don’t get me started on her piles. They were so painful for her.” He tuts, shaking his head.

He leans and whispers.

“They were that bad that I used to have to strap them out the way when we were having S-E-X.” He spells out.

“Otherwise they just hung there like a couple of balls. And, well, you know that after children it’s never the same down there again. God, it’s like chucking a sausage down the freeway.” He sighs again. I try not to gag at the information he’s just shared.

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