Sunday Afternoon

I stare at the bulge that is now her stomach, running my small clammy fingers over the stretch marks across her belly. Together we make the sounds of a race car driving down those shiny rose-colored valleys. Suddenly we are laughing, holding our bellies staring at the ceiling. Tears leak from her eyes, but her smile still remains. "Don't cry Momma," I exclaim. "They're happy tears, Hun," she replies. I kiss her swollen belly-button while whispering into it " Don't make Mommy cry!" She kisses the crown of my head. She stretches and says "Let's get some grapes from the kitchen." She stands and looks over her shoulder, pausing for me to catch up. I jump up and scratch the red impressions on my legs from the carpet. I wrap my arms around her legs and we walk together to the kitchen with one of her hands running through my hair and the other on her stomach.