It had been some time since Mother and Father Fisalis had rushed home to their territory, but Bitsy had yet to grace the manor.
The in-laws must have been getting pretty anxious, considering they’d send us a message to check on the situation every few days. For each one, all we could do was send back a reply of “Not yet.”
I’m getting impatient to meet the little one myself. You awake in there, Bitsy?
“My tummy is sooo daaarn heavy!”
Whenever I stood up, I couldn’t help muttering something along the lines of “Upsy-daisy” or “Here we go.” Was I turning into an old lady over here?!
My baby bump was really starting to weigh me down, but for now, I had to accept it as the price of my future happiness and learn to live with it.
“Nevertheless, it’s no good for you to sit still all day,” Dahlia giggled as she helped me up from the sofa.
“True. Plus, the doctor said that staying active would get the baby here faster.”
“Exactly. Though you ought to remain aware of your limits, of course.”
“I know, I know!”
Dahlia gave me a preemptive lecture, knowing full well the sort of stunts I was liable to pull.
I’d learned from my last mistake. No more strenuous activity, no more fits of laughter—I didn’t need to be told twice!
So as you can see, the one who was actually pregnant in this scenario was taking it nice and easy. But meanwhile...
“How are you feeling? If you’re having a hard time, don’t hesitate to say something!”
“Does your stomach hurt? Someone call for a doctor immediately! The baby could be born any second now!”
“It’s dangerous if you can’t see your feet over your belly. Oh, I know—don’t we still have that wheelchair from when your leg was injured? Why don’t you ride in that?”
There was a certain individual I could name who was going crazy with worry.
Whenever he was home, he did nothing but fret over me. It was charming, sure, but he could afford to calm down a little!
“I’m fine, Cercis,” I assured him with a strained smile.
“No, no, we mustn’t get careless! Remember last time? There’s no telling when something might happen,” he replied, dead serious. He was taking this so seriously I almost had to laugh.
“Relax. It won’t be long now before you’re a daddy, so you’ve got to pull yourself together. It’s time we learned to take things in stride.”
“Ugh... You’ve got me there.”
I could practically see the drooping ears and the tail tucked behind his legs. The fact that I found the kicked puppy look cute on him was starting to make me feel like the older one here.
He may be taking it a little far, but I am glad he’s worried about me!
Ever since my false alarm, he’d made a daily routine of telling my belly: “Make sure you’re born when Daddy is home. You hear that, Bitsy?” It had become his new morning ritual before heading out to work each day.
It was after that dream he’d had a while ago—that nightmare where our baby turned out to be a girl (still TBD), and she grew up to be the crown prince’s future queen—that he and I had taken to calling our unborn child “Bitsy.”
The reasoning behind the name was that although we didn’t know if it was going to be a “bitsy” Viola or a “bitsy” Cercis—either way, the child was going to be a miniature version of one of us. And I had to admit, the nickname had started to grow on me.
Mr. Fisalis was already going ga-ga over our kid before they’d even been born. The sight of his devotion really tugged at my heartstrings; never had I dreamed I’d see the day, after all.
Before we’d gotten married, he’d been the sort of scoundrel who could propose a purely contractual marriage without a single crack in his smile, but the more time passed, the more he had changed. He used to only look out for number one, but somewhere along the line he’d learned to consider the people around him instead. These days, the worst he was guilty of was excessive fussing; he’d grown into a truly wonderful husband. Here’s hoping he’ll keep it up and grow into a good father too.