Read Online A Life Worth Fighting by Brenda Kennedy - Free Book Online

into his shirt. “I don’t know why I’m crying. That is such a sweet gesture.” Robert doesn’t say anything; he just strokes my hair with his hand. I sniffle and let out a small chuckle. He backs up and looks down at me.
    “Are you all right now?”
    “I am, thank you.” I lean up and place the small baby booties on the palm of my hand. “Jamie had this same pair, didn’t she?”
    “I think she did.”
    “Is it wrong that I want another girl?” I slowly look up at him.
    “No, Leah, I don’t think it’s wrong.”
    Robert
    I didn’t have the heart to tell Leah that I want another girl, too — but a boy is fine, also. This pregnancy is a blessing and I pray it goes well. Leah and I have so much love to give a child. We always wanted a large family, but now, all we want is a child.
    I stand up from the edge of the bathtub and say, “Take your time, I’ll wait for you in here.” I pick up the small baby booties and place them back in the sack, walking towards the door.
    “Okay, I’ll be a few more minutes.”
    “Take your time,” I say, closing the door slightly behind me. I put the sack back in my top dresser drawer. I walk over to my nightstand and pick up the framed picture of Leah, Jamie, and me. It was taken on the front porch of the house the morning Jamie died. I was holding Jamie, and Leah was standing close with her arms wrapped around the both of us. Jamie was holding Jack with a big smile on her face. I smile and run my fingers over Jamie’s face, tracing her face, neck, and her arms. Her long brown hair was in pigtails with yellow ribbons tied to them. Leah and I have black hair, but Jamie’s hair was light brown. Leah comes out of the bathroom, and I place the picture back on the nightstand.
    “I love that picture,” she says sadly.
    “Me, too. She was so happy that day. If only we had stayed home and not gone to the zoo.”
    “Robert, don’t.”
    “I can’t help but think she would still be alive and that she would still be with us today.”
    Leah grabs her stomach and bends over in pain. I run over to her and ask, “What is it?” I don’t wait for her to answer before I walk her over to the bench at the foot of our bed.
    “Ouch,” she says as she squeezes her eyes shut.
    I kneel down beside her and say, “Breathe through it.”
    After a minute, she looks up at me. “It’s gone. It was a sharp pain, but it’s gone now.”
    “Are you sure?”
    She smiles and says, “Yes, it’s over.”
    “Stay here.” I walk over to her side of the bed and pull back the covers. She is still wrapped in a towel so I get a white eyelet nightgown from her dresser drawer. Holding it out for her so I can slip it over her head, I say, “Arms up.”
    She laughs and says, “Robert, I’m fine.”
    “Arms up,” I repeat, not blinking an eye so she knows I am serious.
    “Fine.” She removes the towel and holds her arms up. I slip it over her head and she jerks her arms through the arm holes. “Is this how you’re going to be the entire pregnancy?”
    “Caring? Yes.”
    “Overbearing?”
    “Yes, that, too. Bed. Now.”
    “Robert?”
    “Leah, get in bed.” I walk over and hold the blankets up for her to climb under. “I want you to rest; don’t argue with me.”
    “You can be so difficult at times,” she complains as she climbs into the bed. I cover her up and bend down to kiss her. “Do you want some water?”
    “Yes, please.”
    “If you have another pain, I want to know about it.” I wait for her to answer. She isn’t looking at me as she is adjusting the covers over her. “Leah?”
    “Yes, okay, I’ll let you know.” She looks up at me with anger in her eyes. The hormones are starting already.
    “Thank you, I’ll be right back with your water.” I bend down and kiss her again before leaving to get her water from the kitchen.
    I return to the bedroom with her water and she is already asleep. I don’t set the alarm for in the morning; I already know I won’t be