Chapter 13

Some nights I don't sleep well. I had no idea how uncomfortable I'd be. I crave weird things to eat, and I walk funny. Grams would have been full of advice; it's times like this that I miss her most.

Demarco's been a sweetheart, though. He's very solicitous. He does all the cooking and cleaning so I can get lots of rest and focus on painting while I can. I may not know much about babies, but I do know that in a short while, I won't have time to get any work done. He's also been working like a dog painting and wallpapering and buying baby furniture and toys. Every day he comes home with something new. He's like a little boy at Christmas. The upstairs is still partly unfinished, but we got the nursery done just in time.

While my lover does my chores as well as his, I slip into a hot bubble bath and stay there until all the bubbles are gone. It's a precious retreat. While the bath soaks away my aches and stress, the daydreams have their way with me.


It's hard to believe that I was once a lost, lonely little girl who cried herself to sleep in a sleeping bag in an open field, with no family, no friends, and no hope, and now, well now look at me. Sometimes I remember that lonely little waif like it was yesterday, and sometimes it seems like something that happened to another person in another world.


Now, my life is so full of joy, so full of love, that it can't be contained even by two people. It's grown and grown until it must find the only possible outlet. The ultimate act of love. The creation of new life.

Now I sleep in my own bed, in my own gorgeous home, next to the man I love more than life, exhausted but happy, and I've never felt so safe and warm and loved.


Why do babies always come at 4:00 in the morning?


After all my fretting, it turned out to be easy. And suddenly there she was. A sweet scented, warm little bundle in my arms, with fat cheeks and her mother's eyes. A living, breathing overflowing of our love, half him and half me. Our Amelia. 


We can hardly keep our hands off her.



A good night's sleep is hard to come by these days, so we grab at it when we get a chance.


Michael was the first of Amelia's "aunts" and "uncles" to visit. Right away he jumped in and started playing with her and carrying her around, watching TV with her in his arms. Menuchah and Morty were hot on his heels, though.


And you know what? They only had eyes for each other. Don't tell ME I'm not a matchmaker! I'm so happy I could cry. In fact, I did. Demarco says it's hormones. What does he know?


Love is in the air, no doubt about it.


Chapter Twelve

Yes, I still paint in my nightie. Can't seem to break the habit. When the muse conks me over the head, I'm not about to take the time to change clothes, for heaven's sake. Let alone eat or bathe. When my easel calls me, I must answer. It is an irresistible force, and not to be denied or delayed.



You know, sweetie, I think we really should have built two bathrooms. And I TOLD you not to use the toilet until the repairman came. Ah, marital bliss. Good thing I've had to learn to be handy with tools. Though I can't help but wonder, sometimes, how much faith Demarco really has in my mechanical abilities. Typical man, eh?

 



There sure is a lot of smoke coming out of this. What do you mean, ground myself?

 

If I seem obsessed with my painting, it's nothing compared to my husband. Isn't that a glorious word, husband? He spends practically every waking moment doing workouts to his TV fitness shows. He won't stop until he's all sweaty and half dead from hunger and thirst. His muscles are getting bigger than the Incredible Hulk's. I tell him he should slow down before he has to go through the door sideways.

 

Truth is, I don't care HOW sweaty he gets. Tee, hee.

 

We didn't want to be one of those couples who ignore their friends and never come out of the bedroom, so we had Michael, Mortimer, and Menuchah over. Menuchah is trying out a new hair style. I like the old one better; it's so sassy and cute. But of course I only told her how wonderful she looks. Honestly, that girl could shave her head and paint it blue and she'd be hot. I'm positive that Mortimer thought so, too.

 

As soon as I saw the way he was looking at her, I just had to play cupid. I had it all planned out. I got them to stay for dinner after Michael and Demarco left for the game. I just had to make sure I inhaled my dinner so I could excuse myself early and leave them to finish their dinner - and their conversation - alone.

 

They certainly seemed to hit it off.



I can think of lots of ways to get them together. An afternoon of TV is a good way to spark a conversation and get them sitting next to each other for long periods of time. I think Demarco thinks I'm being a bit silly. But I saw the looks they snuck at each other. All I have to do is get up and go paint or something, and leave them alone to get acquainted.



Oh, that man of mine. One night he lost track of time and ran off to work at the last minute, leaving dinner cooking on the stove. I had to finish cooking, but by the time I smelled it, it was all burnt and horrible. I made a nice salad instead.

 

The thing about salad is that you get hungry again very soon. So I can make a big platter of salad and leave it out, and it just leads to more eating, which means more chatting.

When Demarco got home, he told me he'd been promoted to team captain! I'm so proud.

 

 

The way he was looking at me made me forget all about having guests. I think they forgot about us, too.

 

Demarco decided to see for himself what entrances me so much about this painting business. He liked it.

 

I thought he looked like he wanted to say, "Explain to me just how exactly you use this thing again."

 

We haven't flagged in our effort to get Menuchah and Mortimer together. Demarco has even given in to my persistence and joined in on the plot. We invited them out to the  park, too, where there's that cozy fire pit and lots of good music for dancing.

 

I think they'd make such an adorable couple. I couldn't hear them over the music, but I bet Mortimer was complimenting her on her sweet moves.

 

I eventually got so sleepy I couldn't hold my head up any longer, and went home to bed, but my accompli- I mean Demarco told me our unsuspecting victi- I mean friends stayed dancing and dancing until nearly midnight, when they were forced to stop from sheer exhaustion and hunger.

 

I'm so impatient to find out if my stragety is working. But they won't tell me no matter how many hints I drop. All I know is that they're both still single. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

I got a phone call from Connor Frio. It seems he sells sports equipment, and he has imported some of those training dummies from China, like the ones we trained on when we were there. I bought one for Demarco out of the sale of my last painting. He's thrilled with it.



I told Connor how much we liked it, and he got me to give him a testimonial he could use in his advertising. He paid me $500 for it. That's more than it cost in the first place, so I made a nice little profit.

As soon as I got the unexpected money, I thought about this nice statue I'd seen that I could get for $250. It would look so nice in that art gallery I dream of building one day.

But, you know, I think instead I'm going to spend it on some nursery furniture. Because I've discovered we're going to have a baby.
 
 

I don't think I'll tell Demarco until morning. He played so hard today. Won the game, too. He looks so sweet sleeping there. Yes. I'll tell him when he wakes up. My darling, get a good night's sleep while you can.

 

 

Chapter Eleven


The day before I became Mrs. Demarco Myrick, I woke up in one of those unlucky moods again, certain something would go wrong. I concentrated hard on the something going wrong not having anything to do with the wedding. I walked around with my fingers crossed so hard they started to cramp. It must have worked, because first the new dishwasher broke, then the TV, and then Demarco lost his first game since he advanced to the majors. He said he was a little distracted. Judging by where his hands were when he said it, I'm guessing the distraction was a pleasant one.

I just wanted the day to be over.

The morning of the big day, I awoke feeling fine. We worked our last minute jitters out in our accustomed ways: me by painting, and Demarco by working out in front of the TV.

We had a small, private wedding. We just wanted our closest friends and associates to share it with us. Michael was there, and Mortimer and his dad, and my newest friend Menuchah. We also asked Coach Keaton.



Michael calmed his old friend's jitters.





"To have and to hold from this day forward
for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health
until death do us part"


"I do"




China has to be one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Okay, I know I haven't seen much. But to an artist's eye, it was almost overwhelming.




"This is where we're staying?" I gasped. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I walked around with my mouth open for a while as if in a dream. The accommodations were plain enough once you got inside, but step back outside the room and you knew you weren't in Kansas anymore. To an artist, architecture is just another form of art, and the architecture here was amazing. The detail, the graceful lines, the intricacy of the most mundane elements. It's as though everything they build over here, no matter what its function, just has to be beautiful.



While Demarco learned the ancient and venerable skill of martial arts, I wandered around the Forbidden City. More beautiful architecture, and everywhere are statues of lions and ancient warriors and gods and goddesses, and fountains festooned with dragons and cryptic symbols.



They sell everything here, in quaint little open-air shops. I bought us anything I saw that I thought might come in handy. I bought some new clothes, too. "There's my baby," crooned Demaro with a fond chuckle, when he saw me, "lookin' all native."



I tried to take some photographs, too. But ... um ... well, I suck. I'd better stick to the painting. My hands and brain know how to use a paintbrush. Apparently, clicking that little button is beyond them.



And what the heck happened here? I think there's something wrong with this camera.



I tried to learn martial arts, too. It's hard, and when you hit that tree thing, it swings around and swats you one right in the head.




 Owwww!


Aw. C'mere, precious girl. I'll kiss it and make it better.

After an exhausting training session, we had a traditional Chinese meal. I bought Demarco some Chinese recipes for his collection. Even the food was exotic and wonderful. But chopsticks are hard!



Darn it. I know I had a piece of food hooked on these things just a minute ago.



We went exploring around the countryside, too, and saw the tourist attractions. You can get in an awful lot of snuggling and strolling hand in hand under the guise of seeing the sights.

Look at me, will you? Standing in front of one of the seven wonders of the world, and what am I gawking at? My wedding ring.




This place is called the Temple of Heaven. In the Ming dynasty, it was a very sacred place where they held sacrificial ceremonies of thankfulness and prayer. I got all that out of the guidebook.



We got a tent and went camping one night. Ostensibly, it was because it would take too long to get back to our hostel at night if we wandered too far afield, and we didn't want to waste a precious minute of our short stay. The truth is, we just wanted some real privacy. We're not used to having other people near when we ... uh ... when we ... well, we are newlyweds.

Honestly, waking up to this view was so exhilarating I could scarely believe it. The air was fragrant with all the exotic plants we don't have at home. You couldn't turn around without seeing something else breathtakingly beautiful. Oh, how I wish I could have brought my easel.







Eventually it was time to return home. Funny thing about traveling. No matter how fantastic a time you had, and no matter how sad you felt at having to leave, there's just something blissful about coming back to your very own home and sleeping in your very own bed.



I did manage to get a few good photos after all.



We brought home some extremely cool souvenirs. The little tiger statue is adorable. We had the dragon statue appraised when we got back, and it turns out it's worth a lot of money.





Demarco was even more excited than I was to get home, because he had a surprise for me. He looked like a little boy on Christmas morning. He took me by the hand and led me straight into the house and back to that corner where there weren't any walls. Unbeknownst to me, he had arranged for a contractor to do some work while we were gone.

It's my very own art studio! No more sticking my easel in any old out of the way corner. No more waiting for daylight to paint, or squinting in the light of lamps and torchieres. All my art supplies were laid out waiting for me like dear old friends, along with some souvenirs of our trip for inspiration. Just look at all that light! And the view behind the house that I love so much! Two stories high, it rises like the glass tower of a fairy tale princess. I might have scared Demarco a little bit when the tears started to flow. I can't believe he did this for me.



 

I flung my arms about his neck and hugged him until he couldn't breathe. Softly, I stroked that sensitive spot behind his ear. Though were was nobody around for a mile, I whispered in his ear, words for him alone. "Darling, you are so good to me. I love you more than there are words to say."

 

I am, without a doubt, the luckiest woman on the earth.