by kj lewis
“How have you been sleeping?” She moves to my groin.
“You would think as tired as I am that I would be sleeping all the time, but with Olivia, I’m not getting much sleep right now.”
“Why don’t you look into a night nannie?” She sits me up and listens to my lungs.
“Did you have a night nannie?”
“No, but I’m not sure how that pertains. Deep breath.”
“The average person can barely afford a sitter.”
“You didn’t marry an average person, Emme. Don’t pigeon hole yourself by what you perceive others will think. If you don’t want one, then fine. But let that be the reason.”
“I really don’t want one. I love getting up with her. And I really love the nights she sleeps all the way through.”
“Is Graham pulling his weight?”
“He is. He gets up with her as much as I do. I don’t know what it is. I just don’t seem to be able to go without sleep like I use to.”
She raises my arm over my head and inspects the spot on my breast again. Lowering it she looks at me. “It’s not uncommon to have bouts where your sleep pattern changes. You have a little swelling in this breast that’s tender. I’d like to schedule you for a mammogram just to make sure all is okay.” She seems worried. “I’m also going to have some lab work done and we can go from there. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but I want to make sure.” She grasps my chin with her hand. “Don’t worry until I tell you there’s something to worry about.”
“Okay,” I answer meekly. “If you find something, I want you to tell me first. I want to get my ducks in a row before telling Graham.”
“Emme, you need to tell Graham, so he can help ease your anxiety.”
“Only by taking it on. He has enough going with the merger and everything else. He already took care of the mentor graduation. I want him to relax more. Ruth, please,” I add when I see her disapproving look.
“You’re the patient. I can’t tell him anything you don’t want me to.”
“That’s right. I knew that rule would come in handy.” I wink at her before sliding on my dress.
“So Handel’s Messiah on the 23rd, and y’all are staying with us on the 24th and Christmas morning.”
“That’s the plan,” Ruth says, washing her hands. We give our love and say our goodbyes. She informs me the labs will be back tomorrow and she’ll let me know the results right away.
I love the city this time of year. It’s busier than ever and everything is so beautiful. Since this is our first Christmas together, I made my first frivolous purchase since marrying Graham and had a decorator come in for Christmas to decorate each of the guestrooms in our apartment, along with the main room. I also had them put the lights on the family tree Graham, Olivia, and I picked out at a “cut your own tree” farm in Connecticut a couple of weekends ago. Lucy came over and helped the three of us decorate it.
When we were little, Mama started an ornament box for me and one for Addie. Every time we got a Christmas ornament, she would store it in our box and write on the inside lid who gave it to us and when. Her idea was for each of us to have our box of ornaments when we one day moved out on our own. It’s one of the few items Addie and I each kept even when we were homeless. Ruth has some family ornaments that she gave us, and together we had enough to decorate the tree. I already have a box ready for Olivia to carry on the tradition.
“Two, please,” I tell the hot dog vendor on the corner. Handing one to Julius, we sit and watch the city go by while we eat. Teague and Joy left yesterday to spend Christmas with her family, right after he and I picked out a ring for her Christmas gift.
“Did Stacy like your hat?” I ask him. I picked out a driver’s cap for his Christmas present and got scarves for the other guys. I gave Cassie her first pair of Louboutins along with a Christmas bonus, and she was thrilled. Biggie Smalls didn’t seem like a scarf guy to me. It was a little something to go with the bonus Graham gives them. I’ve learned Vinnie and Teague make well into six figures and Smith is over seven. Along with that, Graham gives them a Christmas bonus that is more than I made in a year working for Jackson. “I take care of the people who take care of mine,” he said.
“She thinks it’s swag. She loves it. She made me wear it to church last week,” Julius says while scanning the crowds. He’s always looking.
He runs a few more errands with me before Myles picks us up and takes me back to the office. Everyone is in the holiday spirit. Jackson and Graham both close their offices the week between Christmas and New Year’s.
Cassie greets me at the elevator.
“You look nice today,” I say.
“Thank you, Emme. All my friends are jealous I get to work for you.” She lifts a foot and admires her shoes.
“Really? ‘Cause all my friends are jealous that I get to work with you,” I tell her, and the smile that comes across her face could light the tree in Rockefeller Center. Before I’m prepared, she hugs me with so much emotion. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Graham says with a smirk.
“No,” Cassie says, beaming and walking ahead of us.
“Can I see you in my office please?” Graham says, all business. “Hold my calls,” he says to George when we walk by. I try to get a clue as to what he’s brewing about, but George shrugs, at a loss as much as I am.
“What’s wrong?” He’s locked the door behind us.
Removing his tie, he watches me.
“Where were you this morning?” he asks, unbuttoning the first button on this shirt.
“Running errands.”
“Emelia, what have I always said?” He removes his suit jacket.
“That you love me?”
“That and I expect complete honesty.”
“Yes.”
“Why were you at mom’s office today?” He walks towards me, his chest almost touching mine.
“We were talking Christmas.”
“Emelia. Is that how you really want to play this?”
“How do you want to play this?”
“Emelia. Don’t start with your smart mouth or it’ll be wrapped around my cock before you leave here.”
“Promise?” I ask, licking my lips.
He slides my coat off my shoulders before untying my go-to wrap dress. In less than a minute I’m in only my underwear and the thigh-high boots I wore for added warmth today.
Pulling me to him he runs his hand on the inside of my panties against my ass. I’m expecting him to slide them off but instead I feel them stretching until they rip. Pulling them all the way off me, he uses them to bind my wrists his other hand had been holding behind my back. When he knows they are secure, he takes his tie and wraps it around my mouth, tying it off at the back of my head.
“Maybe this will keep your smart mouth quiet. And since you seem to have an issue with the truth today, it doesn’t matter if you can speak or not.” He raises a brow at the question in my eyes before walking around me inspecting his work. I’m surprised at how effective his tie works as a gag. It really is difficult to say anything.
Once he’s behind me, he runs his fingers lightly up and down my sternum. Before they find a home buried inside of me.
“Always ready aren’t you?” he says, feathering kisses up and down my neck. He smacks my behind “I asked you a question, Emelia.”
I moan and nod my head. Leaning my head against him, I lose myself in the assault he’s taking on me. My hands clumsily find his erection, and I do my best to move them up and down his hardened member while he continues to finger fuck me.
He takes me to the edge, and just when I think I’m going to fall over, he pulls back. Lowering the tie, he puts his fingers in my mouth and I suck my arousal off them.
“Now. Why were you at Mom’s office today?”
“We were talking Christmas.”
“Fine.” He wraps the tie around my mouth again before he falls to his kne
es. Running his nose up and down my sex, he lightly adds his tongue to the mix. My enjoyment is muffled by his tie. Pulling my hips towards him, he heartily dines on me until I think my legs are going to give way and an orgasm crashes through me.
“Well, Emelia.” Graham says, pulling the tie away from my mouth, after my breathing finally settles.
“Graham I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“I want you to tell me the truth. I don’t want you hiding things from me because you think that’s easier for me.”
“Did Ruth tell you something different?”
“No. Mom did your bidding. She didn’t tell me anything. But I know my wife…every inch, crevice, and valley of her body. I also know her hiding places in her head and her heart. I know you’re hiding something. Are you ready to tell me?”
“Graham I really—” My words are muffled when he puts the tie around me again. I pull on my wrists to free them, but I really am bound.
“You didn’t think I tied them for the fun of it, did you?” Graham unbuttons his pants, releasing himself. Running his hand over his erection, he rubs the tip up and down the front of my sex.
My begging comes out muffled and incoherent. I receive a chastising stare when I try to push my hips towards him. He turns me with my back to him and lowers my torso over his desk.
He then pushes into me moving in and out in slow agonizing increments. Several minutes of this and my body is on fire. I am one hard push from detonating around him. He pulls all the way out and his intention is to only enter me part way, but when he isn’t expecting it, I push back on him, my ass hitting his pelvis. In that moment, I tighten my insides.
“Fuck all,” he says. His fingers dig into my hips as his pace quickens and I relish in the feel of him finally fucking me hard.
“Dammit!” he yells as I orgasm. He pumps into me four more hard times before he comes deep inside me. He lowers the tie so I can draw in more air as our bodies fall from the mountain we just climbed.
Lifting me off the desk, he holds me to him. “Emelia, we’re in this together. You make it worse when you don’t tell me.” I hear the fear in his voice.
“Ruth just wanted to run some tests. I had a little tenderness in my breast and she wants me to have a mammogram. She also wants me to get genetic testing, so we won’t have to always worry whenever I’m not feeling great.”
He lifts my head off his shoulder and kisses me tenderly.
“It’s you and me baby. No matter what happens. You don’t hide from me. Understand?”
“Graham. It really is okay.” I comfort him.
“I know that. I need you to know that.”
“Emme. Can you come to my office today please?” Ruth says over the phone the next morning, revealing nothing.
“What time?” I ask tentatively.
“How’s ten? Everything looks okay, but I’d like to talk to you more about the genetic testing.”
“I’ll be there.”
“What time are we going?” Graham says, feeding Olivia her bottle.
“I’m going at ten. She said there was nothing to worry about. She wants to talk to me about the genetic testing.”
“But everything came back okay?”
“That’s what she said.”
He studies me before picking up his cell. I pull it from his hands. “Call her and ask her if you like, but I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“I can still go with you.”
“There’s no need to cancel your morning. They aren’t doing the testing today. She just wants to go over it with me. I’ll bring the information home for you.”
He reluctantly agrees and hands Olivia to Vinnie before he kisses us each goodbye and heads to the office.
Ruth’s office staff shows me back immediately. She’s in her office and comes around her desk to hug me when I come in.
She walks me to the couch and, taking a seat at the opposite end, she watches me for a minute.
“Emme, when you first came to my office, I sent for your medical records. A standard process for our office. Our residents read through them and flag anything I need to be aware of. The resident who reviewed your chart missed something though.” Her tone is serious and I can tell this is my doctor and not my mother-in-law.
“Ruth what is it?”
“Emme.” She takes a breath. “You’re pregnant.” And slowly the most beautiful smile creeps across her face.
“What?” I whisper. “But that’s impossible. They said I could never get pregnant.”
“What they should have told you is that your chances of getting pregnant were minimal to none, but not impossible. If the resident had caught the diagnosis like a fifth-year should, I would have recommended you to go on birth control.”
“So, I’m not sick?”
“No, sweetheart. You’re pregnant. It’s why you’re exhausted. It’s why your period didn’t start back after you stopped training for the marathon. It’s why your breasts are tender, and it’s why you say you can’t fit into some of your clothes.”
“How far along am I?” I ask.
“I want to do a vaginal ultrasound today to find out. I didn’t have you bring Graham because I thought you might want to tell him on your own.”
“I just…I can’t believe I’m pregnant,” I say, still in shock from the news. “I never thought this would happen for me.” I look at her and something inside me clicks. My smile matches hers. “We’re going to have a baby.” I finally say it out loud.
“You’re going to have a baby.” She hugs me and I realize she’s crying.
Christmas Morning
“What are you doing up?” Graham asks, climbing under the blanket I have draped over me. I’m sitting in front of our tree, the shades are up and it’s snowing.
“It’s Christmas and it’s snowing,” I whisper excitedly to him. He takes a sip of the hot chocolate I’m drinking before setting it on the table. Kissing me, he positions himself under me so I am leaning against him. His hand rubs my stomach and I wonder if instinctively he knows. It’s around three in the morning. We spent the evening watching Christmas movies and making cookies with the family. Everyone is asleep and snuggled in tight.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” Graham nuzzles my neck. We sit and watch it snow for some time before I turn to him.
“It’s Christmas. Why don’t we each open a gift now?”
“Okay,” he says with childlike excitement. We each pull the gift we want the other to open.
“You first,” he says.
I unwrap a beautiful box. Inside is a hardback book. I open the cover and the first page is a beautiful watercolor with “Addison Harrison James” scripted beautifully on it. Each page after has a picture and a story of the person that received an organ donation from Addie. The man in Oregon who received her liver. The young mom in Idaho who received her heart. The kid in Florida who received her corneas. The teenager here in the city and the man in Oklahoma who received her kidneys. Eighteen stories in all.
“Graham.” My eyes fill with tears. “How did you do this?”
“These people all agreed to an open transplant, meaning the family of the donor can know their story. They each shared their stories with Charlie’s team and sent in a picture. I designed the book.” The last page includes pictures of me and Addie.
“I love it. Thank you.”
“I had one made for Harry and Eloise, too.”
“They’re going to love it.”
“Me next?” he asks, and his excitement is contagious.
“I never expected you to be someone who gets excited about Christmas.”
“I’m not usually. But this year I have you and Olivia. It’s different.”
“Made with love,” he reads the tag before opening the box.
“It’s heavy,” he says in wonderment, and when he gives it a shake, it makes a deep rumble noise. “Kumquats?” he says when he takes the top of the box off.
“Don’t you like kumquats?”
“I do, baby. Thank you.” He pulls one out and peels it before popping it in his mouth and then peels one for me. We eat a few more while we watch it snow.
“One more?” he asks, peeling it.
“Sure.” I eat it, sucking the juice off his finger, biting the pad. His eyes darken and he gives me a heated look. He moves the box to set it on the floor to gain better access to me.
“What’s this?” he asks pulling out a three-inch piece of paper rolled into a scroll. It’s tied with a tiny yellow string. He pulls on it and rolls the paper back. His eyes shoot from the picture to me then back to the picture.
“You want to adopt this baby?” he asks.
“No. Top right corner.”
His eyes find what they didn’t see the first time.
“Emme Taylor.” He looks at me in awe. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“According to your mom, my previous doctor should have said it was unlikely I would be able to have kids, but not impossible. Her resident missed it, so I was never put on birth control.”
“We’re having a baby?” he asks. “We’re having a baby!” he exclaims before laying me on my back. Pulling my shirt over my head, he studies and rubs my stomach. “How pregnant are you?” he asks.
“Ten weeks.” I run my fingers through his hair while he sprinkles kisses over my stomach.
“How big is it?” he looks at me, eyes wide.
I shrug. “About the size of a kumquat.”
When I wrote the acknowledgements for Taylor Made, they were short and sweet. I was rushed to meet the go live deadline and who reads them anyway, right? I do. And it got me thinking that probably a lot of folks do. It also made me realize how many people it really takes to produce a book and what an opportunity I was missing to truly thank each of them.
I would be amiss not to start with my editor, Anna. As you read these acknowledgements you will understand why. This is me, in all my glory. No edits. No one has proofed these last pages before going to print. Multiple commas missing or in the wrong place, a string of run on sentences to be followed by a string of incomplete ones, and a lack of grammar knowledge that more than one beta reader has described as appalling (cough Rachel, Monique, Amy). While I certainly echo their sentiments, I take refuge in the knowledge that Anna will make it better. She gets me. She understands the cadence that I write in and is able to keep the authenticity of my writing, while also ensuring I don’t look like a dumb ass. It’s a delicate balance. One she achieves. Anna, I couldn’t do this without you. Your comments are like little treasures of love, laughter, tears and cursing. No one can say – fix this you silly shit – better than you. I think you are AMAMZING. (You didn’t really think I would make it a whole paragraph without that word did you?)
