Simple Math - Part twenty two - sneak peek

“But we have to be very quiet.”

Penny nods studiously, little hand in yours, toddling along at your hip towards the couch. Even in the short time you’ve been away she’s grown, physically and mentally, more words added to her repertoire than you thought possible.

You palm slides over your belly. Kids grow so fast.

“Baby?” You help her onto the couch and then plop down beside her. She was up before the sun this morning, and somehow managed to slink into your room without a sound. You rolled over to find her staring at you in the dark, whispering your name.

“Yes Penny, that’s the baby.” You sigh and heave your ankles onto the ottoman. It’s getting harder and harder to live, to exist, to bend over or walk up the stairs, or stay awake for longer than six hours without need a nap.

“My baby.” Pen announces just as she does everyday, like she’s getting a baby doll instead of a sibling. Sometimes it makes your nose sting with the threat of tears, and others it makes you laugh. It’s a toss up. “Cules?” She signs for strong, and you ruffle her hair.

“We can watch Hercules for a bit but then you have to have breakfast.”

A throat clears from the kitchen, and your heart leaps out of your chest.

“Good morning.” Simon’s voice is rough. Tired. Like he’s not getting any sleep. Like he’s staying awake on the other side of the wall, staring at the ceiling just like you are for half the night.

There’s sympathy. There’s anger. And it’s all wrapped up in hurt.

Penny claps her hands, slides off the couch to run towards her dad, who scoops her up like she’s as light as a leaf.

“She came into my room…” you trail off, and she snuggles into his chest, his arms tightening around her, his nose skimming through her hair. It’s a stolen moment, one you’re outside of, and you can’t help but think about how he’ll hold the baby-

“Have you had breakfast?” He interrupts your thoughts, and you shake your head.

“We were going to watch a bit of a movie and then… yeah. Do breakfast.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he deposits Penny back over the couch, plopping her down at your side. “You girls hang out.” You want to go back upstairs, retreat, but you can’t make yourself move. It’s a simple reprieve from the weight of your pain, and you’ll take it.

Even if it is only for this moment.