THREE WEEKS LATER
My alarm was set for 6:30, but I was up at 5:57, strangely and horrifically emotional. My stomach was in knots and I thought I was going to be sick, all because it was Nora's first day of school. Well, the first day of first grade.
The longer I stared at the ceiling, the faster my eyes began to water until the tears started naturally flowing down my temples. I knew Harry wouldn't be next to me when I turned my head to see him, but I did find him on the terrace outside the bedroom, and that was good enough for me.
Putting the nausea aside, I pulled the sheets back to stand and walked out to see him. He puffed out a cloud of smoke, then immediately put the cigarette out in my presence as he studied me. I started to sob.
"Baby, what's wrong?" His voice was hoarse from the cigarettes and lack of use.
I said nothing just yet as I climbed into his lap, letting him hold me the same way he does Nora when he comes home from work and she tells him all about his day. My sobs were quiet, but still coming strong.
"It's Nora's first day of school," I said.
Harry nodded as he ran his fingers up and down my arm. "Yeah, what about it?"
I yanked my head off his chest to look at him like he was stupid, scoffing with my hands out as if there was absolutely no other explanation needed. It was sympathetic, but he laughed.
"I'm sorry, babe," he chuckled. "I thought she's already been to school?"
"She has but that's not the point," I sniffled into the back of my palm. "First grade is like...real school. She's getting so big and so old, and what if the kids are more mean now that they're bigger? I don't wanna take her. She's not going."
"Darling," he sighed with his lips to my shoulder. "She'll be fine. She's so excited to go."
That made me cry harder. "Why is she so excited? What am I, a monster? She just hates me so much that she'd rather be in school?"
"C'mere," he smiled, using both hands to hold my face as he pushed my tears away with his thumbs.
I relaxed back against his chest, loosely draping my arm over his bare midsection as I sniffled profusely to calm myself down. Then my nose wrinkled as my frown deepened, inhaling the smoke on him.
"You smell."
He started laughing and I could feel the vibration in my ear, making me smile just a bit. "Sorry. Didn't think you'd be up this early."
I sighed deeply through parted lips, once again pulling back to look at him. "Will you please come with me to take her? I don't wanna cry in front of the Beverly Hills moms all by myself."
"Sure," he stamped a kiss to my forehead. "Why don't you shower with me since I smell so bad?"
"Deal," I scoffed, dramatically swiping his pack of cigarettes until it landed on the hardwood deck. He chuckled and left them where they were as we undressed each other to get in the shower, which we kept more or less rated PG.
It had been three weeks since we had our little one-night getaway to Malibu, and I think it was safe to say we almost–almost–burned ourselves out with how many times we went at it, trying to take full advantage of being alone. So, there was a great chance baby number two was conceived in the bed that night or in the shower the next morning, on the kitchen counter during breakfast, or by the pool after that.
