BLAIRE
Talking about Thanksgiving had reminded me of my mother. This would be my first holiday without her. The more that sank in the harder it became to breathe. I forced a smile and made my excuses before rushing upstairs to take a shower. Rush needed some alone time with his dad anyway.
I let the tears I’d held back fall freely as I undressed and stepped into the shower. The warm water rained down over me as a sob broke free. Last year I had cooked our Thanksgiving meal and we had eaten it together in the dining room. No friends or family. Just the two of us. I’d cried that night too. Because deep down I’d known it was my last Thanksgiving with my mother. The memories of years gone by when Valerie and Dad had been there were bittersweet. My heart ached for all we’d lost. I hadn’t thought anything could hurt as badly but I knew now that I was wrong.
Facing the holidays without my mom was going to be hard. She loved Thanksgiving and Christmas. We would always start decorating the house for Christmas on Thanksgiving Day. Then we’d sit down and watch White Christmas together that evening while we ate leftover turkey and sweet potato casserole. It had been our tradition. Even after we lost Valerie and Dad had left us.
This year everything would be different. Knowing Rush would be with me and that I was starting a new family of my own eased the ache. I just wished my mother were here to see me this happy.
The door opened and I spun around to see Rush walk into the bathroom. He was frowning. He stopped and he studied me a moment before pulling his shirt off and throwing it onto the marble floor. Then he unsnapped his jeans and stepped out of them and his boxer briefs. I watched as he stepped into the shower.
“Why’re you crying?” he asked, cupping my face in his hands. I knew the shower had washed away my tears but my eyes must still be red.
I shook my head and smiled at him. I didn’t want to worry him with my emotions.
“I heard you when I opened the door to the bedroom. I need to know why, Blaire.”
I sighed and laid my head against his chest then wrapped my arms around his waist. I had lost a lot but God had made up for that by giving me Rush. I needed to remember just how blessed I really was. “The fact this is my first Thanksgiving without my mom kind of hit me,” I admitted.
Rush’s arms tightened around me. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into my hair as he held me.
“Me too. I wish you could have met her, I mean, now that you’re older. I wish she could’ve seen you all grown up.”
“I wish I could have to. I’m sure she was as perfect as you are.”
Smiling, I wanted to disagree. I was nowhere near as perfect as my mother. She was one of those special people that the world doesn’t see often.
“If my dad being here is going to be hard on you I’ll send him away. I want to make this a good memory for you. Anything I can do to help you just tell me and I’ll do it.”
Tears trickled freely down my face again. Stupid pregnancy hormones made me a leaking fountain lately. “Having you with me makes it all better. Just talking about it made it sink in. Momma loved Thanksgiving. I knew last year was the last one we’d spend together. The entire day I did everything I could to make it special for her. And me. I knew I’d need that memory.”
Rush rubbed small circles on my back and held me in silence. We stood there while the water ran over us for several minutes. Finally he pulled back enough to look down at me. “Can I bathe you?” he asked.
I nodded, unsure what he meant. He reached for one of the clean washcloths stacked up outside the shower and picked up one of my bottles of body wash. Then he began washing my back and shoulders. He picked up each of my arms as if I were a child and washed them thoroughly. I stood there and watched him as he concentrated on cleaning every inch of my body. He didn’t make it sexual which surprised me. Instead, it was more sweet and innocent than anything else we’d ever done. His hand didn’t linger as he washed between my legs. He only pressed his lips to my stomach once as he knelt in front of me and washed my legs and feet.
Once he was finished he stood up and began rinsing my body with his hands. Each touch seemed almost reverent. As if he were worshiping me instead of washing me. When my body was clean he moved to my hair. I closed my eyes as his hands massaged my scalp. My knees went a little weak from the pleasure of it. Rush quickly rinsed the shampoo from my hair and then did my conditioning, giving it just as much attention before running my hair under the clean water again.
My body was relaxed from the pampering. I was almost sluggish. Rush turned off the water and reached for two large towels. One he wrapped in my hair and the other one he wrapped around my body. Then he picked me up, carried me to the bed, and laid me down.