Do You Think You're Up For This?

“Unconditional, unoriginal, always by my side. Meant to be together, meant for no one but each other. You love me, I love you harder.” – Hey Monday

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My mom had come over as a surprise. She was surprised, alright.

She was surprised when I opened the door in tears without Michael there to comfort me.

“Rachel, what happened?” she asks immediately, pulling me into a hug and making me feel like a five year old. I try to stop crying long enough to explain.

“Me and Michael never fight,” is all I manage to say, still crying.

“You’re just stressed,” she reassures, understanding. “You’re tired and emotional and he’s worried.”

“But…” I try, as she sits me on the couch.

“You’re married now, Rae. You’ve only been married six or seven months. He wasn’t there for one of those months, and you weren’t there for another one and a half. It’s perfectly normal; you have to use this time to learn how to have a regular marriage. There’s no such thing as the perfect couple.”

“We used to be,” I point out stubbornly. She smiles sympathetically, pulling me into a hug.

“I know, honey. You’re not going to get along perfectly, you’re having a baby. But do you know what?” she asks, not giving me a chance to respond. “Michael loves you, and you love him. In the end, it won’t matter, and when you’re holding your baby, you’ll laugh about it. Okay?”

I manage to nod, wiping my eyes on my sleeves.

Suddenly, I hear a key in the lock and look up to see Michael walk in.

He pauses in the doorway upon seeing my wet eyes and gives a soft, apologetic smile.

My mom turns to smile at me knowingly.

“I’ll leave you two,” she says, hugging me and kissing my cheek before standing up and doing the same to Michael. She leaves and then we’re alone again.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” I say immediately, as he sits next to me on the couch.

“It’s fine, Rae. You’re just driving me a little crazy is all,” he chuckles softly, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, wincing a little.

“Rae. I’d rather you drive me crazy than talk to anyone else in this world. Okay?” he assures me seriously. I smile in spite of myself and he leans in, pressing his lips against mine, causing me to forget what our argument had been about and why I had yelled at him in the first place.

I arrange myself on the couch with my head in his lap.

“Besides, we never have this much time together at once,” he continues, running his fingers through my hair. “We’re always touring or in the studio or promoting. I just want to be with you as much as I can, especially now.”

“I know; I’m sorry for being crazy. I’m sorry for everything,” I apologize, an embarrassed blush coloring my cheeks. His fingers brush over my pink face and sweep back my bangs.

“I want you to stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault,” he says firmly. “Okay? The baby isn’t anyone’s mistake, it’s not an accident, and I don’t want us to be anything but happy about it. Okay?”

I murmur my agreement and suddenly notice plastic bags by the door he must have brought in.

“Where did you go?” I ask, sitting up straight and nodding towards the bags.

“Groceries,” he replies. “I thought we could make dinner and dessert tonight?” he adds, glancing at me. I can’t help but smile and plant a kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” I tell him, although I’m sure he doesn’t need the reminder.

“And I love you.”

I love him because of the way he says everyday things, like “strawberries,” because of the way his hair sticks up when he wakes up in the morning, because he always lets me have the last of the orange juice at breakfast, and countless other little reasons that all add up to something together.

I can’t even list all the things he does for me.

I don’t know why or how he puts up with me, especially these past few months of my crazy hormones and cravings.

All I know is our baby is going to have an amazing father.