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The house was quiet. John knew that the cook and housekeeper had gone for the day. Denise had consented to help with the house since she worked all day but she preferred to be alone with John at night. Neither of them had grown up with servants and although he had grown accustomed, she had not.
It was later than he liked to come home to her but there had been a large shipment at the Paradise that day and the day had grown long as they had prepared for the big sale the next day. When he gone to Denise’s little Beauty Emporium at the mid-day meal, she had declined to come to the Paradise after closing.
“I am sorry John, I am just tired in the evening now. I simply want to be home” she had said.
“Sweetheart, of course, you must rest. I will come home as soon as I possibly can to take care of you.”
“John, there is no need for you to take care of me! I am just fine”
“ Ahh, I know my love, but I want to. Please let me.” He beseeched her with his eyes and she laughed and shrugged as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.
Now, 7 hours later, he had a feeling that she was asleep. He padded up the stairs to the bedroom that still was softly lit with an oil lamp. He rounded the corner and peeped into the open door and there she was. All day, he had been waiting to be back here and he exhaled a breath he did not realize he was holding.
John had never in his life felt this way. He had always been driven to discover the next big thing, to push himself to make more money, to find the new trend, the next idea. Now, those desires, though still alive, had receded and his need to enjoy his beautiful wife had moved to the forefront. His greatest moment of the day was no longer the moment he entered the Paradise but the moment he came home to Denise.
The months since their wedding had been bliss. Their trip to Paris was a whirlwind but he had loved showing Denise the markets, the Bon Marche, all the exotic goods and lovely sights. Denise had discovered exciting beauty products to import for her shop and he had adored seeing her negotiate with the merchants.
Their wedding night had been beyond description and they continued to discover each other. Denise was as brave and as bold in their physical relationship as she was everywhere else in her life. John felt as if he would never have enough of her; he could have remained locked in their bedroom for years it seemed and by some stroke of magic, by all accounts, she felt the same. He was utterly bewitched by her. Maybe men just never spoke of such things to one another but it seemed to him that he had only ever heard of wives viewing the wedding bed as a trial to endure. Denise was certainly cut from a different cloth.
They had spoken of children early on. Denise wanted children but was not sure how many. She had surprised him by saying that she planned to continue working at her emporium after children. Initially, John was shocked but once he thought about it, he wondered how he could have thought she would do anything differently. She had it all planned - she would hire a nanny to keep the child in the living quarters of the shop so that she could nurse the baby and visit throughout the day. It was unheard of and yet, so was everything else about Denise. John quieted his objections and planned to support her, whatever she wanted. Even though Denise had thought long and hard about children, she planned to delay becoming pregnant just a while. John was shocked to hear that she had learned that woman should avoid making love during certain times of their cycles as to delay becoming pregnant. It had worked for several months but eventually, the frequency of their love making had thrown those plans aside.
Six months onto their marriage, Denise woke up, stretching gracefully as she did each morning. She rose for her cup of tea on the tray the cook had delivered to the bedroom. After a small sip, she had dropped the cup, and ran for the wash basin where she promptly threw up. John found her there, white faced and clammy, looking wide eyed in the mirror.
“Sweetheart, what is it? Are you ill? Shall I call I doctor?” he asked, his worried eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
“I will be alright, I just need to lie down” she answered.
Indeed, after an hour, she felt well enough to rise and insisted on going to her shop.
The same scene was repeated the following morning. This time when John’s eyes met hers in the mirror, he saw dawning recognition in them. “Denise, what is it? What is the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter John. My plan does not seem to have worked for quite as long as I was hoping for. I believe I am expecting. I missed my courses several weeks ago.” Her eyes suddenly were brimming with tears that overflowed down her cheeks and she turned in his arms to put her head on his shoulder.
“Denise, that is wonderful news! Are you alright darling? I am sorry it happened faster than you wanted but I so long for a child with you. Please talk to me” he said quietly. John truly was ecstatic. He was 10 years older than her and was ready to start a family. For some time, he had been imagining their children. He could see it in his mind’s eye, several little blond, blue eyed girls running down the steps to greet him.
Many times over the last 2 years, he had thought back to the night when, he realised now, he had begun to fall in love with Denise. It was the evening she had found him sitting on the stairway of the Paradise, the little foundling Arthur sleeping in his arms. He had so little experience with children, he had been afraid to put the infant down and instead was sitting up all night, rocking. John had admonished Denise in his office earlier that day, very angrily; he remembered her fearful eyes and the way he had shocked himself by looking at her lips while delivering his rebuke. They were trembling slightly and suddenly, all he could think of was kissing her. He had been mulling over what had occurred earlier, confused, when she found him sitting with little Arthur on the dim stairway. He was guilty and knew that he had overreacted with her. They had spoken in the dark and she had forgiven him. Suddenly, her hand had reached out to stroke the baby’s cheek as he lay in John’s arms. John looked up at her and it was as if he had been struck by lightning, but in the sweetest way. He could not look away from her. Their eyes found each other and it seemed to John that he was seeing all his life played out before him. It made no sense then, to imagine a shop girl as his wife, as the mother of his children, not when he had one of the richest ladies in the country waiting for his proposal. And yet, that was just what he saw in that moment - a life full of Denise and nothing had ever been so appealing to him.
His thoughts came back to the present - here was what he had been longing for and yet his beloved wife was weeping in his arms. He tightened his grip and held on, as if his arms could hold her together.
She drew back and smiled, teary eyed at him. “I am alright John. Just surprised, and a bit worried. My mother died in childbirth along with my baby brother. It has always scared me. I so love you and everything we have, the Paradise, my shop… I’m not sure I am ready for it all to change yet. It seems like we have only had a moment to ourselves and now we will have to share one another.”
John drew a deep breath and kissed her forehead. “Sweetheart, do not be frightened, all will be well. And we have time. The baby will not come overnight. I will take care of you both.”
She had drawn herself up, steeling herself, it seemed to John and as she always did, moved forward with her bravest face. It was early, they did not tell anyone.
The two months after that were trying. Denise felt unwell but insisted on going to work everyday. She began most mornings by being sick and ended the days by collapsing in bed without supper and falling into a deep sleep. John was lonely and missed her intensely but did whatever he could to make her days easier. He went to see her midday and insisted that she rest in the little back parlour of her shop, often rubbing her feet for her while she dozed.
Finally, after she was three months along, the roses returned to her cheeks, the sickness abided and the sparkle came back to her eyes. She seemed to bloom. She suddenly wanted his attention whenever they had a spare moment. She craved his touch and if she was unusual in her desire for lovemaking before the pregnancy, she was now shameless. Every evening it seemed, she called to him from their bed, saying that she wanted him, she needed him…
At first, he was perplexed. No one had ever spoken to him about love making when a woman was with child. He had assumed it did not happen, that it would hurt Denise or the baby. He pulled away but seeing the rejection in her eyes had horrified him. He wanted her always and told her as much.
Denise’s response had been quickly delivered- this was what she wanted and it would not hurt the baby. She made it clear that she felt it his duty to oblige her in her desires. John was a bit shocked by her forwardness but could not refuse her; not only because she was the love of his life, carrying his child but also because he longed for her as much as she desired him.
Now, he stood leaning against the door frame of their bedroom and watched her doze. Everything about her called to him but he took a moment to simply drink in the sight.
He had adored his girlish, virginal bride, with her slim figure and small bust and hips. He would, of course, be happy if her body returned to that again. But he was also more than appreciative of what pregnancy was doing to his beloved’s figure. Every part of her was lush and full and becoming more so as the days went on. He could see the curve of her backside, more rounded and calling out for him to pull her back against him. Her thin chemise barely concealed the arc of her belly and the more womanly fullness of her breasts. Her rosy cheeks were slightly more rounded and even her lips seemed fuller and redder. Every part of her begged him to touch.
He padded in the room and slipped behind her, running his hand over her tummy, gently rubbing a greeting to the child within. He kissed behind her ear and waited, hoping, that she would wake up. He was not disappointed.
Her eyelashes fluttered open and she rolled slightly, smiling at him while stretching, languidly in his arms.
“I missed you my love. Welcome home.” she whispered before kissing him on the lips and then moving down to his neck while working his shirt buttons open with her deft fingers. John smiled into her hair and offered up a little prayer of thanks for the woman in his arms and for this night, and for the lifetime that lay ahead of them.