Forty-One

 

To Peas... or Not to Pea

 

March 14, 2011

The gate at the edge of the Saint-Hubert airfield looked like any other industrial fence—until you pulled up to the intercom. Ari reached across, hit the toggle, and the window slid down into the door.

“Tail number C-GXXX,” she said, voice steady over the crackle.

A beat of static, then the heavy chain-link gate rolled open.

Ari eased the Jeep forward, bypassing the terminal and heading out across the open tarmac, following faded yellow lines toward the white jet waiting near the hangar. The engine idled for a moment before she shut it off.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then Ari pushed open the driver’s door and climbed out, already turning toward the backseat. On the passenger side, Jon stepped from the Jeep and shut his door behind him before circling around the rear bumper to meet her.

By the time he reached the back passenger door, Ari had it open.

“Hey, monkey,” he said, leaning into the car toward Lily.

Lily answered with a small, bright sound, her legs kicking against the seat.

“Keep an eye on your mama, okay?” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Make sure she behaves.”

She squeaked again, reaching for him this time, small hands opening and closing in clear demand.

Jon laughed under his breath, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

He kissed her once more before straightening and easing the back door shut.

 

Ari was leaning against the Jeep, arms folded across her chest, shaking her head—like she’d heard that line a hundred times before. 

“Me?” she said. “I’m not the one heading to a movie set in the middle of the night.”

 

“Jealous?”

 

She pushed off the Jeep and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him in. “Not even a little.”

 

“You sure about that?”

 

“Absolutely,” she said, her tone dragged out just enough to make her point.

 

“Marking your territory?”

 

“I’m pretty sure my territory’s all over your tongue.”

 

“Damn right, baby.”

 

He didn’t let her walk away from that one.

 

His hand slid to her waist and pulled her back in. He kissed her once, slow, like punctuation—then again, softer, and a third time lighter, more like a smile than a kiss.

 

Ari exhaled against his mouth. “You’re gonna be late.”

 

“Worth it.”

 

She gave him a look. “For a twenty-four-hour trip?”

“Especially for a twenty-four-hour trip.”

 

That earned him another kiss from her—deeper, intentional. Like she was trying to memorize him in advance.

 

She didn’t rush it. Didn’t break it quickly like before.

 

Instead, she stayed there—fingers in his shirt, pulling just enough to hold him close, like she was taking her time deciding what part she could carry with her.

 

When she finally pulled back, it was only by an inch. Close enough that she was still breathing him in.

 

Jon’s mouth curved slightly, eyes dropping to hers. “You sure you can survive twenty-four hours without me?”

 

Ari huffed a quiet laugh against his lips. “I survived before.”

“Did you, though?”

 

That got her, not a reaction exactly—just a shift.

 

She kissed him again. Quick this time. Sharper. 

Then she steadied herself, her forehead almost brushing his.

 

“Go make your movie.” Her mouth curved just slightly, that familiar edge slipping back in. “I’ll be calling the shots again when you get back.”

 

Her fingers gave his shirt one last tug—light, final. Not letting go so much as releasing him on her terms.

 

A small sound came from the backseat again. Lily, reminding them the world was still there.

 

Jon let out a quiet breath, glancing toward the car, then back to Ari.

 

“Hey,” he said, softer now.

 

Ari looked up.

 

His hand lingered at her waist a second longer before easing away.

 

“Call me after you see Dr. Laurent,” he said. “As soon as you’re done. I want the full rundown.”

 

Ari nodded once. “I will.”

 

“And after, the kids will want to know too,” he added.

 

“I will,” she repeated.

 

He leaned in and kissed her once more. “Love you.”

 

Ari didn’t hesitate. “I love you too.” Then, like it had been theirs for years, she lifted her hand and crossed her pinky over her heart.  

 

She held it there a beat, then extended it toward him without breaking eye contact and waited for him to do the same before hooking it with hers. They held it just long enough before letting go at the same time.

 

He stepped back and opened the car door for her. Ari slid into the driver’s seat, settling in. She started the car.

 

Once she was buckled in, Jon shut the door, tapped the roof twice, and watched as she pulled out through the gate.

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

Ari stepped off the elevator on the second floor, gently wheeling Lily’s stroller ahead of her. She navigated the familiar corridor with practiced ease until the door marked Clinique Laurent – Obstétrique & Gynécologie came into view.

 

Sliding the door open, she stepped into the quiet waiting area, nodding to the receptionist who gave a polite, knowing smile. She was just about to sit when the door opened and a nurse stepped out.

 

“Ms. Moretti?”

 

Ari glanced down at Lily—still asleep.

 

“That’s us,” she said softly, already moving.

 

She guided the stroller forward, falling in step beside the nurse, the familiar rhythm returning instantly—hallway, turn, stop—at the dreaded scale.

 

Ari gave a half grin. “Do I have to?” 

 

“You know we do,” the nurse replied with a smile. “Just routine, no judgment. Promise.”

 

She stepped onto the scale, hands resting lightly at her sides, watching the digital display as it blinked once, then settled.

 

Ari stared at it. “Well, that wasn’t very nice.” 

 

The nurse let out a short laugh as she wrote the number on her chart. “You’re right where you should be.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Ari said, stepping off the scale. 

 

“I know exactly how you feel,” the nurse said easily. “Morning sickness isn’t for the faint of heart.”

 

Ari huffed a quiet laugh as they continued down the hall into the exam room.  The exam room felt exactly the same—cool, quiet, faintly clinical without being cold. She parked the stroller out of the way in the corner, giving it a gentle rock out of habit before stepping up onto the exam table.

 

A soft knock came a second before the door opened.

 

“Bonjour, Ariana.”

 

Dr. Laurent stepped in, tablet in hand, his expression warm and professional.

 

“Hello, Doctor.” Ari nodded towards the corner. “Lily insisted on sleeping through all the fun.”

 

Dr. Laurent’s eyes flicked briefly toward the stroller, a small smile following. “Nothing wrong with that. Let’s check your vitals.”

 

He wrapped the blood pressure cuff snug around her arm, making a quick note on the chart. 

 

“Everything looks good,” he said. “Weight gain is steady, just where I’d like it. Blood pressure is fine. Any cramping or pressure?”

 

“None,” Ari said. “Lots of kicking though.”

 

“That’s good. And your nausea?” 

 

“Human again, thank God.”

 

“Good. That’s what we like to hear.” He returned to the counter, typing briefly. “Is Dr. Cummings still traveling with you?”

 

“Yes. She will be with me through the delivery again.”

 

“Excellent. I will be sending both Dr. Cummings and Dr. Barnes my notes once we are done.”

“Thank you. I know I’m not your typical patient. Jon and I appreciate everything all of you do for us.”

 

“You’re very welcome,” he said. “Now, let’s take a listen to the heartbeat.”

 

Lying back, he applied the warm gel to her stomach. The familiar static filled the room, low and searching.

 

There it was—thump-thump-thump.

 

Ari’s shoulders eased without her realizing it, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling as she listened.

 

“Strong, steady, healthy,” Dr. Laurent said, adjusting the angle slightly before clicking the device off.

 

“Good,” Ari murmured. “That’s what we’re going for.”

 

Dr. Laurent wiped away the gel and stepped back, tapping a few notes into his tablet before reaching for a slim envelope on the counter.

 

“Now, the amniocentesis results are in. Everything looks normal. The baby is healthy.”

 

She closed her eyes for a beat. “Thank you. That’s… a huge weight off.”

 

 “You’re doing very well, Ariana, and the baby is thriving,” Dr. Laurent said, giving the envelope a slight tap. “And… if you want to know.”

 

Ari’s mouth curved faintly.

 

“The jury’s still out.”

 

She took the envelope, turning it once between her fingers before slipping it into her bag, out of sight, unopened. She’d know when.

 

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

 

Ari eased the Jeep into the garage and cut the engine. For a moment, she sat with one hand still on the wheel, the other resting lightly on her bag where the envelope sat tucked away.

 

A faint, familiar stillness settled in—nothing she could name, just enough to make her pause a second longer than usual before she reached for the door.

 

Lily stirred in the backseat. A small sound. Awake now.

 

“We’re home,” Ari said as she slipped from the car.

 

By the time she got Lily unbuckled, she was wide awake. Ari shifted her into her arms, one hand automatically adjusting the blanket Lily had her fingers curled around.

 

“Hungry?” she asked.

 

Lily answered by patting her cheek.

 

“Yeah. Same.”

 

The second the loft door opened, Meatball was up immediately, tail already in motion, circling her legs like he’d been personally summoned.

 

“Outside,” she said.

 

He paused, offended for half a second, then trotted toward the door anyway. Lily watched him go with intense focus.

 

“He’ll be back.”

 

She set Lily down just long enough to strip off their coats, then set her into her highchair.  Kicking off her sneakers, she walked back to the door to let the dog in. 

 

Lily kicked her feet at the sound of his paws clicking across the wood floor as he made his way toward her, and he plopped down at her feet.

 

“Yours is in your bowl,” she said, pointing, earning a yeah-right expression from him. “Lily, yours will be ready soon.”

 

Ari crossed to the fridge without thinking about it and pulled out a container of meatballs, thanks to Gabriel, setting them on the counter beside a small pot before turning to the freezer for the peas, already moving on instinct as the routine fell into place without thinking it through.

 

The meatballs went into one pot with a bit of sauce, the peas into another, lids clinking softly as she worked while the stove clicked on beneath her and everything settled into the kind of domestic rhythm she loved—not hotel trays, no distance, just this.

 

Ari’s phone buzzed on the counter. She looked at it, wiped her hands on a towel, and picked it up.

 

“Hold on, multitasking,” she said, setting the pan lower on the stove and putting the phone on speaker. A chorus of “Hi, Ari” came through as she did.

 

“Hey, everyone. What are you doing?”

 

“Eating Pi-zzzzza.” Romeo announced immediately.

 

“Sal’s?” she asked. “What I would do for a slice from Sal’s right now.”

 

“Is that so?” Jon’s voice cut in, low and amused.

 

“Have a slice for me, Ro.”

 

“Where’s Lily?” another voice asked.

 

“In her high chair. Say hi to her.”

 

“Hey, Stinkerbell. I miss you.”

 

Lily’s eyes widened at the sound of Jake’s voice, followed by a high-pitched “ba… ba…ba.”

 

“Hear that? She misses all of you too,” Ari said, glancing over at her. “We’ll see you all in a week. Promise.”

 

“Where’s Meatball?” Romeo asked.

 

“Where do you think? Standing guard, waiting for the food to hit the floor.”

 

“What’s for dinner?” Stephanie asked.

 

“Meatballs and peas.”  

 

“Hold on a second, I’m getting her set up.” 

 

She turned back to the stove, scooped a half meatball with sauce, smushed it onto the plate, then put a couple of spoonfuls of peas next.

 

“Here you go.” she said, sliding the food onto her tray. 

 

Lily immediately leaned forward, inspecting it, like a board meeting she wasn’t convinced about.

 

On the phone, the noise shifted—plates, voices, laughter still going, until Jon’s voice came through more clearly.

 

“So,” he said, “appointment go okay?”

 

Ari glanced over while setting the pan down. “Yeah. All routine. Everything looks good.”

 

“Heartbeat?”

 

“Strong. Blood pressure good too.”

 

“That’s good,” Jon said, softer now. “And the results?”

 

“Everything’s normal,” she said easily. “Baby’s healthy.”

 

A quiet shift came through the line, like a small release. “And the other part?” 

 

Ari hummed faintly, her attention drifting as Lily picked up a pea, studied it, then dropped it straight off the tray.

 

Meatball was there immediately.

 

Jon kept talking. “You didn’t answer my other question.”

 

“Not sure I want to find out yet,” Ari said.

 

“It’s a boy. I know it.” 

 

“Sure, whatever you say,” Ari replied, turning back just in time to see Lily repeat the motion.

 

Pick up a pea. Look at it. Drop it.

 

“Hey,” she called gently toward Lily. “Food stays on the tray.”

 

Lily paused. Looked at her. Then picked up another pea, but held it longer this time.

 

Jon was talking with Jesse in the background, something about lemon ices, but Ari’s focus had narrowed without her meaning it to.

 

Lily dropped the pea again. Meatball darted in. Then again. And again.

 

“Yo… just like Sal. Won’t even give it a shot?”

 

Lily tilted her little head, looked right at her mother, picked up another pea—and tried to throw it at her.

 

“No–nooo.”

 

Small. Crooked. New.

 

The room didn’t stop. The call didn’t stop. Jon was still mid-sentence on the other end.

 

But Ari did. Just for a second. Her eyes stayed on Lily.

“Did she just—” Jon started.

 

“Yeah,” Ari said with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Yeah. She did.”

 

Jon let out a quiet laugh on the other end.

 

“Yep… she’s definitely yours.”

 

Ari smirked, glancing over at Lily, who was now gripping a piece of meatball like she’d won something.

 

“Excuse you?”

 

“I’m just saying,” he added, easy and amused, “I’ve heard that tone before.”

 

“Mm-hmm,” Ari hummed, unimpressed.

 

Lily dropped another pea. Meatball didn’t miss.

 

Ari shook her head, pushing off the counter. “Alright, that’s enough chaos for one call.”

 

“Hey,” Jon cut in, just a little softer, “call me later.”

 

Ari glanced toward her bag for the briefest second.  “I will.”

 

“Love you.”

 

A small pause, just long enough to feel it.

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Night, Lily!” voices echoed through the phone.

 

Ari smiled faintly. “Say bye.”

 

Lily responded by banging her hand on the tray, thoroughly pleased with herself.

 

“Close enough,” Ari said, ending the call.

 

The loft settled back into its quiet rhythm. Ari reached for another piece of meatball, setting it in front of Lily without comment.

 

The peas stayed untouched.