The Rhythm of My Heart

by Velvet Reed

  “You’re already finished? I hope you didn’t lift any boxes or move anything.”

  “Of course not. That’s for all you strong men to do.” I wink at him.

  “Good. Now go home and rest. I’ll bring some take-out home with me, so don’t worry about cooking either.”

  Those words are quite possibly every woman’s dream, and I’ll make damn sure that he’s rewarded for being so wonderful later tonight. “You’re kind of perfect, you know that?” I tell him.

  “I’m not perfect, Sweet Cheeks, just a man who loves a woman and wants to take care of her.” He gives me one last kiss and his pager goes off, signaling that he’s needed back in the ER.

  “Gotta run, baby, but I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, babe.” I almost shout as he walks backwards away from me. Then he turns and hurries through the swinging double doors.

  I head for the exit, grabbing my keys out of my purse and looking for the ultrasound picture. With the realization that Cole still had it in his hand as he walked away, I suddenly feel sorry for all the staff in the ER this afternoon because I have no doubt that the proud daddy-to-be is going to be driving them crazy as his gushes over his little one.

  Chapter 40

  Cole….

  It’s moving weekend. Sam and I have both been able to have the weekend off to help move Gracie, and then Allison’s things. Allison moving into Gracie’s house is perfect. Not only is she getting a great place, but also she’s getting it at a lower rent, fully furnished, and with no lease. At twenty-five, Gracie already has the place paid off, thanks to her keen business sense and investments. It’s good to know she can keep it and have someone we know looking after it.

  So, since I have the entire weekend off and I just finished my Friday shift that I swapped, I’m headed for home and Gracie. When I reach my Jeep in the staff parking lot, I notice a piece of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. Knowing that people canvas the parking lot regularly with advertising fliers, I take it off and throw it on the passenger side floor next to my bag. Just as I’m about to close the door, the messy handwritten message on the paper grabs my attention, so I snatch it back up and read what it says.

  If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck away from her.

  What the hell? I quickly glance around the parking lot looking for any sign of who might have left the note, but there’s no one in sight. Confused by what it says, I figure that whoever left it has put it on the wrong car because I sure as hell don’t know who or what the message is referring to. Since there’s no trash can nearby, I crumple the paper up, throw it back on the floor without any further thought, and go around to the driver’s side. My only goal now is getting Gracie some dinner and spending the night with her in my arms, knowing that as of tomorrow, I get to wake up with her there every single day from then on.

  We started at nine this morning. My dad, Sam, Bryan, Charlie and I doing all the heavy lifting, while Gracie, Mom, April, Ashley, and of course, my favorite little lady, Ruby are handling the unpacking, gossiping, and the yelling out of directions. Allison is waiting at her old apartment for us to head there when we finish with Gracie’s things.

  It’s taken only two trips to move everything Gracie needed. We’ve been able to finish by lunchtime, and now we’re all sitting around eating the feast that the girls somehow managed to pull together while unpacking. As I watch everyone chatting away and enjoying each other’s company, I realize how much my family has grown since meeting Gracie. Yes, I call them all family because they’re Gracie’s family and now they are our little ones, and mine too.

  Just last week, we all spent Thanksgiving at Bryan’s house. It was a tight squeeze but it was the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. Even Mom, who somehow managed to take over Bryan’s kitchen, praised it as the best Thanksgiving we had had in a long time; she added that this year, we have so much more to be thankful for, obviously referring to her grandchild.

  “Has everyone got their Christmas trees yet?” Gracie asks.

  “I finished decorating the house yesterday, Gracie, so if you need help getting this place into shape I’d be happy to lend a hand. Cole doesn’t usually decorate much because he spends Christmas with us,” Mom informs her.

  “Oh, I’d love that, Olivia. I was hoping we’d get the move finished today, and could talk Cole into going tree shopping tomorrow,” Gracie says.

  Acting coy, I ask, “What if Cole had plans tomorrow, Sweet Cheeks? I mean there is a game on; after all the heavy lifting we men have been doing today, I think we deserve a day of rest.”

  “Silly boy,” I hear my dad mutter and Bryan starts laughing beside him. I give them a quizzical look, and they just shake their heads in return. I glance back at Gracie’s face that’s shrouded in annoyance, and I’m pretty sure a tinge of anger. Oh, shit, I obviously said the wrong thing.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. How inconvenient for you to spend ONE day doing heavy lifting. Correct me if I’m wrong, Cole Tierney, but you were the one who wanted me to move in with you; if I’m not mistaken, I do heavy lifting everyday considering this is YOUR baby I’m carrying. I’ll buy the damn Christmas tree myself as you, obviously, have more important things to do, like watch your precious game,” she spits, and then she’s up and storming out of the room, while I sit here completely dumbfounded by her outburst.

  The slamming of our bedroom door has me jumping in my chair, and it’s then I realize that everyone else is deathly quiet. What the hell just happened? It was a joke.

  “Did anyone else realize I was messing around? Or have I totally lost my sense of humor?” I ask.

  Mom gives me a sympathetic smile, while Dad and Bryan try to muffle their laughter. “What’s so damn funny?” I snap at them.

  “Cut it out, John. You too, Bryan,” Mom chastises them, and they almost immediately stop their sniggering. Not so funny now, huh!

  “Hormones,” Sam states flatly.

  “What?” I ask confused.

  “She’s pregnant, Cole. Surely, I don’t have to explain to a doctor that her hormones are all over the place right now,” he says, sarcastically.

  “Such a smart ass,” Ashley mutters, rolling her eyes.

  “What? I’m just stating the facts. Women are hormonal at the best of times, but when they’re pregnant, you may as well run and hide,” Sam retorts.

  “Don’t even go there, Sam,” April butts in.

  “Well, if anyone is an expert, it’s Vagina Man over there, April. He’s God’s gift to vaginas and an expert on females, you know,” Ashley rebukes, and April chuckles.

  “Get over yourself, Ashley. I didn’t say I was an expert on females, but I do know a thing or two about hormonal women, considering I deal with them every day. Thank God, I don’t have to deal with you when it’s that time of the month; I’m sure it would be like summoning Satan,” Sam snaps at her.

  “Sam!” Mom and Dad exclaim at the same time, as Ashley gets up and walks out the back door. How the hell did our peaceful lunch spiral out of control?

  “All right, that’s enough!” Mom shouts. “Sam, I’ll talk to you later because I have no idea why you treat that girl the way you do, but that was uncalled for.”

  “I believe she insulted me first—” he starts to say but Mom quickly cuts him off.

  “How old are you? Five? Sticks and stones, Sam, sticks and stones. There’s no need to carry on like a child.”

  Thoroughly chastised, Sam replies, “Yes, ma’am.” And he doesn’t utter another word.

  Turning her attention to me, she starts. “I’m about to give you the best advice a mother can give her son, so listen up and listen good. Gracie is pregnant with your child, Cole. Her hormones are raging, she’s emotional, and she has no control over her feelings right now. To top that off, she’s just moved all her belongings into someone else’s house.”

  “This is her house,” I cut in.

  “Now it is, but like any pregnant woman, she’s going to want
to nest. She’s going to clean, she’s going to want to move things, and she’s going to want to make a home for her baby. You don’t have a say in anything, and I mean anything, between now and when the baby is born.”

  “What?” I screech. “But…”

  “No buts! If you value your life and want to continue having sex for the rest of this pregnancy, you will agree with her, help her make this her home, and do everything, and I mean everything, that she asks you to do. Even if that means driving thirty minutes away to the only store around that sells horseradish flavored pickles.”

  Dad starts laughing again and Mom winks at him. Obviously, Mom craved horseradish pickles when she was pregnant.

  “If she wants the biggest, most expensive Christmas tree there is, then you buy her the biggest, most expensive tree there is. Her hormones don’t have a sense of humor, Cole, so don’t make jokes that you think are funny because she won’t. And be prepared for the crying, because pregnancy crying has different meanings.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, there’s the happy cry, where she’ll cry just because something is cute and fuzzy. There’s the ‘I’m turning into a beached whale cry’, where she’ll think you won’t love her because she’s gaining weight… and then, there’s the most feared cry of all,” Mom informs me.

  “What’s that?” I ask, suddenly very stressed that the woman I love is going to turn into some kind of erratic alien life form.

  “The one you just encountered my son… The ‘I’m going to rip your head off and shove it up your ass if you speak to me again’ cry,” Mom deadpans.

  “You’ll experience that one a lot during the birth,” Dad adds, and Bryan and Charlie nod their heads in agreement. Well, I can’t wait for that now.

  “Okay… So what should I do now?” I nervously inquire.

  Mom lets out an almost maniacal chuckle. “You go and apologize, you beg for forgiveness, and you promise her a Christmas tree that rivals the one in Rockefeller Center.”

  “That’s it?” I ask getting to my feet and heading for the door.

  “Oh, no, Cole, there’s one last thing, honey,” Mom says, and I turn to hear her last piece of advice. “Protect your balls while you’re in there. I would like more grandchildren in the future.”

  “Mom!” April screeches, and everyone else erupts into fits of laughter at my expense, as I head to our bedroom hoping and praying that I’ll come out alive.

  When I get to our bedroom door, I can hear Gracie crying; the sound sends my heart plummeting straight to my stomach. Shit! I didn’t mean to make her cry. Cautiously opening the door, I step inside and close it behind me. When I turn around, I see Gracie sitting in the middle of the bed with tissues scattered all around her.

  Noticing that I’m in the room, she looks up at me, her lip quivers and tears fall as she sobs, “I’m so sorry.”

  In three strides, I’m on the bed and pulling her into my arms. “Sweet Cheeks, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for joking around.”

  Sniffling, she clutches me around my neck. “No, I was a bitch. A big, fat, nasty bitch and you probably hate me now.” Ah, ‘the beached whale cry.’ Guess Mom knows what she’s talking about.

  “I could never hate you, Gracie; I love you too much. You aren’t a bitch, and you’re definitely not fat. You’re having our baby and that makes you more beautiful than ever.”

  “Great, so I’m more beautiful to you now than I was before I was pregnant. Thanks, Cole.”

  Holy hell, she’s being completely irrational.

  “No, you’ve always been beautiful to me, breathtaking actually, but carrying our baby makes you even more so, because it’s something incredible and magnificent, and you’re giving us the most precious gift imaginable,” I praise.

  A whole new round of tears and sobbing erupts, so I rub her back and whisper soothing words to try to calm her.

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t control these stupid tears or these stupid hormones and… and oh God! I think I actually just peed myself a little. I have no control over anything,” she wails.

  Sweet Jesus, is she serious?

  “It’s okay, baby. Pregnancy puts a lot of pressure on a woman, physically and emotionally; it’s completely normal to feel the way you’re feeling. Plus, with moving and everything, I’m sure it’s a little overwhelming.” I try to placate her.

  “Will you still love me if I can’t hold my bladder?” she asks, quite seriously. How the hell do I answer this without evoking the head-ripping-off cry? Should I try for humor?

  “Of course, I will baby. Even if I have to buy baby and adult diapers, I’ll still love you,” I chuckle.

  Gracie just stares at me for what seems like several long excruciating hours; then, a smile slowly spreads across her beautiful tear-stained face and she playfully slaps me across my bicep as she giggles. “That’s not even funny, you big jerk.”

  “Yeah, it was or you wouldn’t be laughing.” I wink, and wipe away the remaining tears on her cheeks.

  “Gracie, there isn’t a thing I don’t love about you. I plan to love you for the rest of my life. So that means I have to love you when you get crazy, when you’re angry and emotional, and it even means loving you when you pee your pants. Because baby, when we’re old and grey, I will absolutely expect you to still love me when I pee mine.”

  This time she doesn’t try to hold back her laughter, and when she calms down, she cups my cheek, her eyes staring intently at mine, and she says, “I promise to love you when you pee your pants too, babe.” Then she kisses me tenderly, showing me just how great her love is.

  Breaking apart, I kiss her forehead one last time, and then, take her by the hand and guide her off the bed. “Come on, let’s get you freshened up and let everyone know I’m still alive. We still have to help Allison move her stuff today; then tomorrow, I’m going to find you the best damn Christmas tree you’ve ever seen.”

  Gracie rewards me with a beaming smile that ignites a surge of deep affection through my veins. I fucking love this woman desperately, raging hormones and all.

  Chapter 41

  Grace….

  This has to be the biggest Christmas gathering I’ve ever seen. For such a long time, it has always been just Dad, Charlie, Rubes, Ashley, and me, but this year it’s incredible. The holiday season has become a group decision, Thanksgiving at Dad’s, Christmas at John and Olivia’s, and New Year’s at our house. Funny, how calling Cole’s house ‘our house’ just rolls off my tongue so freely.

  Cole and I exchanged our gifts at home this morning after several rounds of hot and heavy lovemaking. When we were finally sated and replete, I sat in front of Cole while he leaned against the headboard on the bed. Handing him the large rectangle box, I was overcome with nerves about his reaction to his gift. He untied the Christmas ribbon slowly, and when he lifted the lid and parted the tissue paper, his eyes bulged wide, he smiled his gorgeous smile, and I knew he loved it. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined doing a photo shoot, especially while I was pregnant, but the images of me in beautiful lingerie with my very pregnant belly on display turned out amazing. Cole’s eyes raked over every inch of every photo, and when he practically tackled me to the bed and made love to me for the third time that morning, I knew my present was a winner. The tickets for a weekend getaway to New York that were tucked at the back of the photos weren’t noticed until sometime later.

  Now, sitting here watching everyone exchanging gifts around Olivia’s Christmas tree, my fingers find their way to the platinum necklace that drapes delicately around my neck. The spectacular pendant is in the shape of a love heart with a smaller heart in the middle attached to the point at the top. Both are made up of dozens of tiny diamonds that sparkle brightly, just like the love I have for Cole. When Cole explained that the larger heart represents his love for me and the smaller one for our baby, I knew I had never received a more meaning gift in my life. I’ve been touching it all day; when Cole catches me, he just smiles knowi
ngly and continues with whatever he’s doing.

  “Gracie,” John says, pulling me back into the moment. “Here, this one says to baby Tierney.” And he hands me a small package. Everyone’s happily opening their own gifts, but when I rip off the wrapping paper and burst out laughing at what I see inside, all eyes are on me.

  “Let us see what it is!” April demands.

  Shaking my head and looking around, I catch sight of Cole smirking and trying to hold back his own laughter. “This is from you, isn’t it?” I ask him, but I don’t need him to reply because I know, without a doubt, that he bought this and will have the baby wearing it every chance he gets.

  “Show us, Gracie,” Ashley says impatiently.

  I pick up the tiny, white onesie that has a picture of a stethoscope on it, positioned to look like it’s hanging around the baby’s neck. Printed on one side of the chest is ‘Baby Tierney M.D.’ and on the other it says ‘My daddy’s a sexy ER doctor.’ It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, and the fact that Cole has had this little piece of clothing custom made for our baby sends my heart soaring.

  Lifting it up I turn it around for everyone to see. The sounds of laughter, gasps, and awws fill the room, and everyone starts telling Cole what a fantastic idea it is. He’s so proud of himself, so I walk over to him and sit on his lap. I hold his face and pepper tender, little kisses on his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, and finally his lips. “That is the sweetest gift ever,” I tell him. “But I don’t know if I can let the baby wear it, though; I don’t want it to get ruined.”

  Cole gets a mischievous look on his face. “You don’t have to worry about that, Gracie. I had six different sizes made and two in each size. I had them made in white t-shirts for when little one gets bigger, too,” he informs me.

  My eyes widen with his words. “You really did that?”

  “I really did,” he confirms, rubbing his hand over my stomach.