Page 18 of Breathe Again

Sunday morning, I woke up with his strong arm tight around my waist, locking me against his chest, my bum nestled in his groin. I lay still, watching as the early morning sunrise slowly lightened the room, soaking in his warmth, his scent surrounding me, assured by the sound of his breathing, deep and even, his chin resting atop my head.

Yesterday had been a good day. Any day that started tangled up with Zee was bound to be a good day. Those days gave me hope that we could get back to what we were before Zale’s job demandedso much of his time and attention, before worry over Olivia began to eclipse every discussion.

Bea, going on the offensive, angry that I couldn’t keep up with our visits two or three times per week, along with my work struggles, did not help my frame of mind either, it wasn’t just Zee. I just knew, for me, if he and I could get back to what we were, I could handle the rest.

Today the whole gang was coming to our place, Bex, Rhys, and their kids, Willa, and Rhys’s brother, Barrett. Willa was bringing the appetizers, Bex was taking care of dessert, and I was covering dinner.

I’d always loved the idea of Sunday family dinner, the family gathered together, eating, laughing, talking, and sharing. Unfortunately, in my family, these dinners went by the wayside when my dad passed, and my mother went off the deep end. With my mother’s unpredictable moods and sniping, Olivia’s meltdowns, and Willa’s absences, they never became a routine, at least not a pleasant one.

It was when my dad passed that I began visiting Bea more frequently with Olivia, two or even three times per week, as well as inviting her over for dinner at my place at least twice. In truth, it was the only regular outing Olivia could tolerate other than Willa’s. Willa, herself, had always been a safe place for Olivia. Visiting Bea got Olivia and me out of the house, and I felt like I was keeping mymom company as well as helping her transition through a difficult time.

I kept up the routine when I started writing, using the weekends to get most of my work done as Zale would be home to help with Olivia, but I grew tired of working when he was home. I wanted time for our family to do things together, so I cut back a bit with my mother.

As Olivia got older, she was better able to handle more activity and we added trips to the mall, parks, the swimming pool, and then the animal shelter. These were all good and necessary, but, while the outings were varied, the number of outings a week that Olivia could tolerate had not changed. Instead of going to visit Gran-gran two or three times a week, we visited once, and added two other activities to expand Olivia’s world.

This did not go over well with Bea, despite still having her to dinner once a week, despite endlessly explaining Olivia’s needs and limitations and our goals for her, as well as her goals for herself. She had been happy enough to drop in on Saturday or Sunday mornings for an hour to ‘make up for her lost visit,’ but she refused to come over at all since we got Sirius.

It was sad, but it was also true that Willa and I got our fix of family time with our friends, and with Zale’s brother Dean, his wife Sophie, and their kids. I loved them, so did Willa, and they loved us right back.

I could feel Zale coming awake behind me. He pulled me closer, tightening his arm around my waist, and dropped deliciously scruffy kisses onto my bare shoulder.

“Morning, baby,” I murmured.

He squeezed me tighter and kissed my neck in response. I could feel my thighs soften. I pressed back into him.

“Do I need to pick anything up for today?”

I loved the sound of his deep, sleepy voice in the morning. A keen awareness of his body engulfed my senses. I wanted to melt against him, skin to skin, fused, surrounded, covered, safe, and escape from the world for a brief respite with him.

I was ready for him. He could just slip right in. I would not ask. I would not beg this time, would not risk rejection, the fact that he didn’t ask, that he didn’t crave, was rejection enough. Maybe that wasn’t fair. I no longer knew what was fair and what wasn’t.

“Um…” I forgot his question.

He chuckled. “Sleepyhead.” He kissed my hair. “Do I need to pick anything up for today?”

Ah, yes.

“Beer, coolers, and fresh bread. We can go together, go out for a drive.”

“It’s easier if I just go. Faster.”

It was getting to a point where every no felt like a rejection. I should not feel like crying over this. Something was wrong with me. Maybe I really was going through early menopause. Only a couple more days and I’d get an answer.

And hopefully a prescription.

He rolled away from me in the bed and crossed to the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a moment, took a few calming breaths to settle my disappointment, and got up to put on the coffee.

Over the next few hours, I started preparations for dinner, laid out the art supplies for the kids in the sunroom, and turned the spare bedroom into a mini movie theatre.

Whenever Amelie and Cole came over, I tried to do something special for them. This time I’d bought paper popcorn containers that had that movie theatre vibe, and I’d set up the slushy maker. I found awesome slushy cups in multiple colors and got them each one. They were cute, but their best-selling point was that they had tight-fitting secure lids.

We’d gone Italian style for dinner this time. A huge pot of sauce, with both ground beef and Italian sausage, bubbled gently on the stove. Fresh pasta sat ready to be boiled, garlic bread ready to be broiled, a pretty glass bowl of Italian style salad with red onion, black olives and peppers waited only for the homemade dressing and slivers of parmesan to be ready to serve.

I couldn’t wait to see what Willa and Bex had done with the theme. We usually did rather well, except for that one disaster. At least it was funny. We ordered out in the end, and we’d still stuck to our theme.

Rhys and Bex arrived shortly after three.

“Hey, chickie!” she yelled past Zale who had answered the door.

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