“Can’t you sleep?” She could feel his body jump in surprise beside her. The bed was much too small to accommodate his fidgeting. “Or are you too excited?”
Silence. She rolled so she was facing him, minding her belly. She couldn't spot his face in the darkness, but she could follow the sound of his breaths and use it to guide her hand to his cheek.
“Is that why you can’t sleep?”
She shook her head, forgetting he couldn't see it.
“I haven’t slept through the night in months,” she said, laying her other hand on her swollen stomach. “But come on, what’s got you up?”
What she meant to do was brush her fingers through her hair. What she did was misjudge the distance in the low light and tickle his eyeball with her fingernails. Deciding that the blackness of the room was not to be tolerated any longer, she shifted her weight and stretched across his body to grope for the light.
“You can’t reach.”
“I can,” she said, straining. “Just tell me if I’m close or not. Hot or cold?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see.”
He turned the light on himself and was greeted by her scowling face, still pretty in its scorn.
“I could’ve done it.”
“I know sweetheart.”
He’d offended her somehow, he could tell that much. He’d apologize to her in the morning once he'd figured out what he did.
“Well anyway, why are you up?” she said, tapping his forehead. “It’s not like you to be awake this late.”
She knows him too well to leave him stewing all night. He grabs at her hand and brings it up to his lips, hoping to soften her, to encourage her mercy.
“I was thinking about tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And I was thinking…” He has to brace himself. “Maybe we…shouldn’t go.”
She stares at him as though he’d just told her he was planning on selling their baby for milk.
“Of course we’re going. Of course we are.”
“But…”
“We have the tickets. We’re going.”
He grabs for her hands before she can climb out of bed.
“Listen.” He says, pulling her in. Her swollen belly throws her off balance and she falls into his chest with an ‘oomph.’ “The trip could be a strain on you, and…”
“Is this about the baby?” She says, hand fluttering to her swollen stomach out of instinct. “The doctor said it would be fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“I know what the doctor said.” He covers her hand with his own, marveling at the two heartbeats he holds in his palm. “But I still…” He can’t bring himself to finish the thought. His wife’s expression softens with sympathy as she looks down at his hand.
“Honey.” She says in a sweet voice, turning up her palm to brush her fingers against her husband’s. “Tell your daddy to stop worrying so much. You’re strong, aren’t you?”
It seems as though her husband has lost his breath, and she pulls his head to her collarbone and holds him there, smiling into his hair. “We’ll be fine. Tomorrow, it’s going to be amazing. You know what people are saying? That it’s like nothing else in the world. It’s the kind of thing dreams are made of.” She makes a high, happy sound into his ear, mimicking the cheer of a crowd and he lifts his head up and laughs as his nose bumps her chin.
“You’re right.” He says. “You’re right.”
“Of course.” She lets them fall back onto the mattress, feeling the breath fall out of her as she lands.
“Hey! Watch your stomach.”
“Shh.” She says, her joy bleeding into her voice. “We’re going.”
“We’re going.”
“And it’s going to be like a dream.”
She can’t reach his forehead, so she settles for kissing at his cheeks.
“Just imagine it.” She says, holding his face in her hands. She can tell by the dreamy look in his eyes that he’s thinking of it, the cheering crowd sending them off, the magic of the blue ocean stretched ahead of them. “The unsinkable Titanic!”
“Yeah.” He says breathlessly, smiling as he intertwines their fingers.
“The unsinkable Titanic.”
