One Day You'll Be Mine(2)

By: Alana Hart & Lauren Lashley



“It is, isn’t it? You would think one baby would be enough, but we’re actually hoping to have another one. My husband wants to have a son this time around. Let’s hope in a month or two from now, I’ll be here taking out books on dealing with a new baby.” She patted her tummy as she spoke, playfully referencing another pregnancy.

I pulled my lip in as I giggled, and began biting it, clearly subconscious act of personal frustration. This conversation was yet another reminder that on a base full of women who wanted children, I appeared to be the only one whose husband wasn’t on board. Everywhere I turned, women on base were conceiving or trying to conceive, and I still couldn’t get Hollis to concede.

I glanced up at the clock as the receipt for checkouts printed. The time was 4:32 PM. I could see cars on base making their exit parade as personnel began leaving for the day. Not wanting to be rude, I bagged the woman’s books, added one of our bookmarks advertising the military moms meeting, and wished the woman a nice day, adding that I too hoped to see her successfully celebrating the news of another baby soon as well. She grinned in response, asked me to wish her luck, and called out to her daughter, who happily got up and ran over to her mommy.

I sighed deeply as I watched the little girl grab her mother’s hand on the way to the car. What I wouldn’t give for a precious little girl of my own.





Chapter 2: Natalia



It was my turn to pick up Jordan from his summer daycare program. Luckily, it wasn’t too busy, and I was able to collect him without much hassle or waiting.

“Hey, mom!” My son was tall for his age, his height just one of many things he got from his father. Almost nothing about Jordan resembled me. He had his father’s medium brown eyes, dark brown hair with copper-flecks, and warm skin tone. It was a far cry from my very pale, easily sunburned skin, flat, dimensionless brown hair, and steely gray eyes.

“Hey baby.” Jordan’s arms left a wet ring around my waist. When he pulled back from me, I could see his entire shirt clung to him, drenched with sweat. I shook my head. “You sweat more than any person I’ve ever met.”

“I was playing basketball, mom,” he replied. Waving goodbye to his friends, he added. “You should play with me and dad tonight.”

“I don’t think so, honey. You know mommy sunburns easily. The weather has to let up a little bit first.”

“What if I make dad wait until its dark outside before we play? Will you play with us then?” His eyes probed mine, silently pleading for my participation.

“Sure, honey.” I couldn’t deny that sweet face. “But before we do any of that, you’re going to home and shower. You’re completely soaked.”

***

The evening went by fast. I let Jordan play video games while I prepped dinner, steak tacos served with corn tortillas, along with rice and beans. I complimented the meal with fresh blueberry lemonade, and topped off dinner with icebox cake for dessert.



After dinner, I kept my promise to Jordan and played basketball with him and Hollis. By this time, the sun was going down, the temperature was much cooler, and the atmosphere was much more bearable to my skin. I cheered when my son made a successful shot, and even when he missed, telling him practice makes perfect.

“You win 100 percent of the shots you don’t take, son,” Hollis said, backing up my encouragement. Jordan was competitive, and a bit of a perfectionist. If we didn’t steer his energy, he’d be a miserable tyrant without proper guidance.

We played until 8:45 PM. I ushered my son to kitchen, reminding him to take out the trash before getting in the shower. Hollis believed in keeping to a strict 9:30 PM bedtime, and I believed in making sure the trash was taken out regularly.

Once Jordan was settled in his room, Hollis and I took turns jumping in the shower. I let Hollis go first, using the extra time to pull out something special from my underwear drawer. We planned our sex in advance, preferring to avoid it on weeknights, but it had been almost a month since we’d made love. I wasn’t above giving my husband an incentive to break the rules if need be.

I showered from head to toe with rose and lemon scented body wash, toweled off, and oiled myself down with complementing body oil in the same fragrance. I studied the lace camisole in my hands. The delicate fabric was semi-sheer, but not completely transparent. I picked it up from Frederick’s of Hollywood, hoping to use it for a special time. No time like the present I suppose.

My hands slid against my body after I put it on. I admired myself in the mirror. I didn’t believe I was ugly, but a disinterested husband can make you wonder. Hollis’ attention hadn’t been on me as of lately.

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