I smiled. “Thank you.”
He leaned back, and lowered his chin so that I would meet his gaze. “You have to take it easy, though. I mean it.”
“I wil . I promise.”
Satisfied, Jared took my glass and returned moments later with a fresh batch of ice floating in the water. I took a sip and sighed, trying my best to relax.
We sat in the morning sun, waiting as it crawled across the sky, hiding every so often behind the errant cloud. Jared and I were wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying a smal moment of peace. Eventual y, my stomach began to protest.
I looked down, and then to Jared. “I guess we better find something to eat.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t say anything sooner. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“I’m surprised the baby didn’t say something sooner,” I said, extending my hand to Jared when he stood.
He tugged on my hand. “I can see I’m going to have to take better care of you.”
We made our way to the eating lodge, where just a few other patrons sat at a table across the room. I dove into the fresh fruit bowl on the table, and then eagerly waited for the waiter to arrive.
An hour later, empty or nearly empty plates of Grouper, Cal aloo, Conch Fritters and other Caribbean cuisine lay all over our table. For someone that didn’t feel hungry, I couldn’t seem to stop eating.
I mashed the leftover crumbs from the banana bread we requested for dessert with my finger and then licked them off.
“Wow,” Jared said.
“What?” I said.
“You’ve always had a healthy appetite, but this is impressive.” He grinned.
“I suppose so,” I smiled. We both knew finishing the ridiculous amount of food I’d ordered was above and beyond anything I’d accomplished meal-wise before. Our table looked like we’d had a dinner party with ravenous wolves.
“Ready for a nap?” Jared said, laying a large bil on the table.
“Let’s go exploring,” I smiled. “Or snorkeling.”
“Snorkeling? Stil not tired?”
“No. I feel amazing,” I grinned. Jared frowned. “What? I’m not supposed to feel amazing?”
“No. To me, you feel tired. You were hungry an hour before your stomach growled. I can’t decide if I’m losing my senses or that your body isn’t responding normal y because of Bean. If it’s the latter, I don’t want you overdoing it.”
“Okay, so I’ll take a nap. Or at least rest a while if I can’t fal asleep.”
“Real y?”
“Real y. Why?”
Jared fidgeted. “It’s just that...you’re rarely this agreeable. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m in an alternate reality.”
“Wow. I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain in the ass. I thought couples are supposed to get along on their honeymoon?”
Jared’s brow rose. “So that’s it? You’re just being affable?”
“No, I trust you. You know my body better than I do, and I don’t want to do anything that could hurt the baby.”
Jared took a deep breath, and blew it out. “It’s good to hear you say that.” When I frowned, he shook his head. “No, I’m serious. Sometimes I wonder.”
“You think I would do something to hurt our baby?”
“No!” Jared said, hugging me and chuckling at the same time. “No, that you trust me.”
“Of course I do,” I said against his chest. “Let’s go to the casita and lay down for a while.”
Jared nodded, and then took my hand. He strol ed down the dirt path, and we laughed and joked as we made our way to our whimsical y painted tin hut. His eyes were brighter than I’d ever seen them, free of any clouds. When we reached the door, Jared lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed, careful y lowering me onto my back.
“You know,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face. “I’ve always thought you extraordinarily beautiful, but this way,” he touched my rounding bel y, “I can’t stop looking at you. You’re stunning.” His fingers returned to my hairline to sweep my bangs back, and then again, his fingertips gentle and soft against my skin. It felt so good, I could have melted into the bed I was so relaxed, but I wasn’t sleepy.
“You’re not supposed to say that until I’m big as a house and need a little encouragement to be seen in public every day.”
“I can’t wait to see that. I’ve been all over the world, but that wil be the most marvelous, beautiful thing I’m ever going to see.”
“Until you see our child,” I noted.
Jared beamed. “I have a lot to look forward to.”
I cupped my fingers behind his ears and pul ed him toward me, tasting his lips. “So do I.” I tugged at Jared’s shirt, and pul ed it over his head.
Jared pressed his warm chest against me, and I sighed. At least that part of our lives could return to normal.
“You should rest,” Jared whispered against my skin.
“I wil ,” I promised.
Just as I had closed my eyes, they were open. The sun stil shined, and Jared sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his T-shirt over his head. He turned to me, puzzled.
“You promised to nap if we—”
“I did,” I yawned. “I slept so good. What time is it? I feel like I’ve slept all day.”
“Nina, it hasn’t even been twenty minutes.”
“You’re joking.”
Jared frowned. “This is disconcerting.”
“Why? I’ve never real y been a nap-taker.”
“Yes, but when you do, you’re out for three hours.” Jared leaned down, pressing his ear gently to my stomach. He stayed there for a moment, and then sighed. “Something’s different. I can’t put my finger on it. You’re different.”
“I’m not. I told you I wasn’t sleepy. Let’s go snorkeling. I’m bored.” I stood and picked a bathing suit from the suitcase, and hurried Jared to do the same. I prodded him to the beach, eager to have some fun. We snorkeled, we swam, we splashed each other and explored the farthest corners of the island. At night, we spent time together in the outside shower, and then snuggled in bed. If I hadn’t already been pregnant, by the end of our honeymoon I surely would have been. Jared was insatiable, and it seemed that with every quiet moment, I whispered suggestive things in his ear.
Just like our last visit to Little Corn, the week went by too quickly. Jared noted the familiar sadness in my eyes as I packed.
“We can come back. When you graduate, after the baby is born, we can come back and stay as long as you’d like.”
“I have a company to run, you forget.”
“That wil run just fine if you decide to take a leave of absence.”
I shrugged, repeating the tedious cycle of stuffing my wedding dress into the garment bag and then smoothing it out. “Maybe.”
Jared seemed to be out of sorts as wel . We didn’t speak much as the hired help stacked our belongings in the truck, and then again in the boat.
Jared held me as the boat bounced across the waves to the main island, and relied on smal talk as we waited for the plane to depart from Nicaragua. It was like saying goodbye for the last time to an old friend. It felt like loss. This time, there would be no ring to cheer me up, only the ominous thoughts of what might be waiting for us at home.