Page 149 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

We talk a lot about Medusa. Will she be a brunette? Will she be blonde? It horrifies him that I call the baby Medusa, but in the end, he gives in, understanding that I do it with affection and that I can’t call it anything else now.

Every night, in the privacy of our room, Eric kisses me and the baby, and that makes me feel a little silly. It’s so nice though. Love just oozes through his pores, and I can only smile.

One night when we’re both in bed, I hug him and murmur, “I want you.”

Eric smiles and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips.

“And I love you, honey, but we can’t.”

I’m too turned on.

“You don’t have to penetrate me...”

Getting up from the bed, he moves away from me.

“No, sweetie. We’d better not try our luck.” But he can read my face. “When your doctor gives us the OK, everything will return to normal.”

“But, Eric...there are still two weeks until I go to the gynecologist.”

Amused by my insistence, he opens the bedroom door. “Less than that with every second. We just have to wait.”

When I’m alone, I’m frustrated. My hormones are all stirred up and I want sex, but it’s clear I’m not getting it tonight.

The days pass, and Eric’s cast is removed. That makes me happy and him even more so. Being able to recover his mobility and independence is huge.

One afternoon after a three-hour nap, Eric wakes me with lots of kisses. I love that. I squeeze up against him and, when I go in for more, he stops me.

“No, sweetheart...We shouldn’t.”

That completely wakes me up; I growl.

Eric smiles. “C’mon,” he says. “Flyn and I want to show you something.”

He guides me down the stairs, but I’m in a bad mood. Not having sex is killing me. But when he opens the living room doors and I see what the two of them have done for me, I’m so incredibly moved.

“Surprise! It’s Christmas, and my uncle and I have put up the wish tree,” Flyn exclaims.

I drop to the floor and cover my mouth with my hands, and, unable to stop myself, I cry like a fool. Flyn’s surprised by my response; he doesn’t understand. Eric quickly helps me up to a chair.

Before me is the red Christmas tree that caused us so much angst last year. I want to say thank you and tell them it’s beautiful, but my tears won’t let me. “If you don’t like it, we can buy another one,” Flyn says.

That makes me cry even more. I cry, cry, and cry.

After kissing me on the head, Eric explains, “Jude doesn’t want another one. She loves this one.”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Because pregnancy makes her very sensitive.”

The kid looks at me.

“Oh man...”

What they’ve done is so beautiful, so precious, so loving that I can’t repress my tears. All I can do is picture my two boys, alone, decorating the tree for me.

Eric bends down and dries my tears with his hands.

“Flyn and I know it’s your favorite time of year, and we wanted to give you this surprise. We know you prefer this tree to a fir, which takes a long time to grow.” He points at a small sheet of paper on the table. “Now you have to write down your wishes so we can hang them up.”

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