Page 41 of Griffin
Savannah
I breathe deeply and try to relax as Hudson takes my vitals.
“So, the bakery is a roaring success. You must be happy?” He makes small talk as he types a few things into my file.
“Well, I’ve been open for over a week now, and the interest hasn’t died down. Every night, I make more and more products, but every day, I continually sell out. It’s better than I ever could have imagined.” I can’t help the grin. I’m proud. Exhausted, but proud. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little hollow.
I haven’t seen Griffin since opening day. The night he texted and said he was coming over yet canceled instead. I feel a little lost without him. He’s been the most constant person in my life for weeks. A new friend. A man to lean on when I needed it. It was nice to have him close by. And I’m scared to admit it, but I miss him when he’s gone. We went from sleeping next to each other and sharing secrets one night, to not seeing each other all week.
He’s sent a few text messages. Short, simple ones to check how I’m doing. But never anything that prompts conversation. Never anything that extends to talking on the phone like we had before.
“So, your due date is next week. Going over is not uncommon, but we don't want you going over for much longer than about a week or so.”
Only I would open a new business so close to my due date. But I knew the chances of me opening after the baby was here would be harder, so I’ve pushed myself to this point. I needed to make it work. I needed the income; I needed to show my family and anyone else who ever doubted me that I could provide for my baby. And I have. I’m stressed, I’m not going to lie. It’s either going to be the best thing I’ve ever done or the most foolish decision I’ve made. But deep in my bones, I know it was the right one.
“Oh, I feel this little one is tucked so tight that coming out is the last thing they want,” I say with a laugh, trying to make light, but I’m secretly terrified. Labor, the pain, doing it all on my own. It’s a lot.
“You could go into labor any day now, so take it easy.” He pauses for a moment, then asks, “What do you plan to do when the baby arrives?”
“I’m hoping the baby will be a good sleeper, allowing me to still bake every morning and then serve throughout the day. But I have Melissa, who’s been helping me. I know I sound naive, but I have no other options.” I need to make it work.
“Well, good. But you also need to be mindful that carrying a baby for nine months and then delivering the baby will have some impact on you and your body. We all think we’re invincible, me included, so please make sure you get adequate rest, take your vitamins, drink water…” He gives me a look of warning, and I offer a small nod in understanding.
“I am. I will. I plan to rest when the baby arrives. I’ll probably close the bakery for a little while until I get the hang of things. The girls have all said they can help. Victoria is first on the list for babysitting duties.“ I grin, thinking about my new friends who have all been checking in on me.
“You have Lacy and me too, of course. That’s the great thing about Whispers; there’s a lot of helping hands. But… your bump still hasn’t dropped like I would expect it to, so you might still have some time.” The furrow to his brow isn’t reassuring.
“Should I be doing anything?”
“Resting.” Hudson is firm with that quick answer, and my lips thin.
“Aside from resting. Anything to help get the baby into position?”
“Movement can work. Walking, swimming…”
“Dancing?” I do love to dance. I haven’t in a while because I’m so front loaded in weight. Plus, I’m not exactly a ballerina at the best of times. I trip over my own feet more times than not. But having music on and moving around the bakery is one of my favorite things to do. I just haven’t done it in a while.
“Sure. I don’t recommend anything too frantic, but yes, dancing would work. Some old wives' tales also suggest things like eating spicy food or even sex can help put things into motion.”
Sex. I blink wordlessly at him as I feel my cheeks heat. My mind moves to one man and one man only. The one who isn’t here.
“Oh, well, I’m sure I can make a curry or something.” God, why am I flushed. “And I do love dancing to a bit of Whitney Houston in the kitchen.” I’m rambling now. But Hudson is a professional as he finalizes my notes.
“Okay, well, dance, spicy foods, rest. See how you feel over the next day or two. Call me any time of the day or night, the minute you start to feel some movement or pain.”
“I will.” I wring my hands together. My stress is high, anxiety crawling around my body like it’s considering taking up permanent residence. Even though I know this baby has to come out, it’s the coming out part I’m not looking forward to.
As I make my way from Hudson’s office back to the bakery, I grab my phone, seeing the screen blank. No word from Griffin today. I have no idea how long he’s away for, but my heart feels a little heavy from missing him. I hate the distance. Before I second-guess myself, I shoot him a text.
Checkup with Hudson all done. I need to try to find some spices in Whispers to cook with. Apparently spicy food will help get the baby into position.
I see some bubbles dance on my screen from his reply, and I hold my breath.
Only five percent of babies are born by their due date…
I frown. How does he know that?
Really?
