One Enchanted Summer

Chapter 32

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

Grayson

It’s been almost four months since I’ve been able to use my leg. The timing lines up with Quinn’s pregnancy. Her pregnancy. She’s pregnant with my child. I say it over and over, and it still doesn’t seem to be real. I know it’s real to her because she’s been sick. She’s almost 18 weeks pregnant now, so the nausea has gotten better, but she still has food aversions. She hates eating, but if she doesn’t eat - she gets sick. I’m in charge of getting her to put something in her body. I should probably focus on getting her to eat healthy things, but I’m just happy when she eats anything at all..

The other day she ate half a bag of barbecue chips. It didn’t have any nutritional value, but she actually ate it, so I count it as a win. The next day, the thought of chips made her gag. We quickly pivoted, and I got her to eat beef ramen noodles. It couldn’t be chicken; it had to be beef. I don’t understand how pregnancy sickness works, but I feel bad for her. In some ways, taking care of her has forced me to stop focusing on my leg. I think that’s helped me heal faster. Once I stopped being an idiot and trying to force myself to get better, my body did what it needed to heal. Now, I can walk around and help Quinn, and I don’t even notice any pain.

I want to get back to work. My paid injury leave is ending, and if I’m being honest, I’m itching to get back. They finished filming the movie without me, and it killed me, but the director called and said they were still able to use what I’d already filmed. I guess since they don’t really see my face anyway it doesn’t matter which stuntman is the one who did it. So, at least for half the scenes, I’ll be in it. It took a weight off my chest knowing that all the hard work I did wasn’t for nothing. She was nothing but complimentary to me and said she’d keep me in mind for future projects. I told her how much that meant to me, but words aren't enough to truly show how much it means. I thought for sure my stunt career was done at that point. I didn’t think I’d get another chance after this, considering I didn’t even get to finish the project I started.

The park has been kind and supportive while they anxiously await for me to come back. At least, that’s what they say. I know I’m replaceable, and I think that’s what was so hard about the accident. The movie, the park, the pirate show, all of that still carried on without me. I’m easily replaced by someone who can do exactly what I can do. Everything I worked for can be gone in the blink of an eye. It was a bit of a shock. I know I’m not invincible, but the whole experience was humbling in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.

Today is my first day back to work at the park. I won’t be doing my usual role. I can’t trust my leg for that yet, but I can do a few of the minor roles. I have to do something, or I fear I’ll start wallowing again. I can’t do that to myself or Quinn. She has her 20-week ultrasound this month, and I have no idea what to expect. She told me it’s a big deal, and she seems nervous so I’m just trying to be a rock for her.

The first show, I was worried I was going to be hesitant, but I fell into the routine easily enough and before I knew it, I was running around the stage as if I was never injured. It feels good to perform again. It feels good to turn my brain off for a minute and allow myself to do what I love. My leg feels strong, and at the end of the day, I’m feeling confident. The last show, I feel a soft ache starting, and I know that it’s time to get off of it for the day, but I’m still so proud. I did it. I can’t stop the grin splashed on my face as we take our final bows. As I stand up, I see Quinn sitting a few rows back. I normally notice her right away, but I was too focused on my leg today. I run towards her and use my hands to launch easily over the pole and into the stands.

She giggles as I reach her.

“Seems like your leg is okay,” she says with a laugh.

The adrenaline is coursing through me from a day of performing again. I pull her against me and kiss her. She tastes sweet, and I can feel her smile against my lips.

“You’re in a good mood,” she smiles.

“I am, yeah,” I reply. “Want to go out?”

“With you?” she asks in fake surprise. “I don’t know…” she trails off.

I spin and dip her quickly, making a small squeak escape from her.

“Please?” I ask, leaning close to kiss her.

“Okay, okay,” she giggles as I help her back to standing. “But, I should probably tell you, I’m pregnant.”

Quinn and I lay on the bed; she’s curled up in my arms, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable. The room is filled with a soft warmth and the crackling sounds of the candles that are lit in the corner. I knew Quinn would appreciate a little extra attention after all she’s been going through. So I lit candles, vanilla because she doesn’t mind that scent at the moment, and we slowly danced the night away.

Quinn slowly traces her fingers along my jawline, feeling the slight roughness of my evening stubble. "I’m so glad I met you," she whispers, her eyes locking onto mine with a tender intensity.

I smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Me too," I reply softly, leaning in to kiss her gently. My lips move with deliberate slowness, savoring the connection, as if time itself had paused just for this moment with her. Somehow, it feels like the whole summer has led to this moment. My life has taken the most surprising turn with this beautiful, amazing woman, and I’m feeling incredibly grateful for it.

I can feel Quinn’s heart beating as her body instinctively draws closer. I slide my hand down her back, pulling her against me with gentle yet insistent pressure. Her warmth against me sends electric shivers down my spine as my desire starts to build. Her kisses deepen, growing more passionate as the seconds slip by. I feel myself giving in to the moment, my senses heightened, aware of every detail—the taste of her lips, the smoothness of her lower back as my fingers trace lower, the rhythmic beat of her heart echoing my own.

I gently start to lift her shirt and pause as her stomach is revealed. The smallest belly has started growing in the last few weeks. I pause and place gentle kisses along her stomach. “Hi, baby,” I say quietly. I glance up to see her staring at me with such emotion in her eyes. She smiles at me, her trust and affection so evident in the silent exchange.

Slowly, I lift the rest of the fabric, letting my hands explore the newly revealed skin with reverence. Quinn giggles softly at the sensation, explaining she’s extra sensitive. Quinn eagerly slides my shirt over my head, and I love the feel of her hand tracing down my chest. The connection we have is so strong it’s unlike anyone else I’ve been with. I’ve heard it a thousand times- the more emotionally connected you are, the better the physical connection is- but I never understood it until Quinn. Our movements are unhurried, each movement proof of our connection and love. Her laughter mingles with soft sighs, creating a melody that is both sweet and seductive.

It’s finally time for Quinn’s 20-week ultrasound. It’s an anatomy scan, so we’ll find out the sex of the baby, and they’ll take lots of measurements to make sure everything is on track and right. Quinn has been extremely nervous about it, and I finally had to take away her phone the other night when she started crying after reading horror stories. She’s keeping her cool on the outside today, but when she squeezes my hand tightly in the waiting room, I know she’s still anxious. I bring her hand to my lips and give her a comforting kiss. She smiles weakly and starts jiggling her knee.

“Quinn?” a voice calls, and I swear she’s out of her chair before they are even done saying her name. We follow the nurse into the room, and suddenly, I start feeling nervous. I wasn’t here for the first ultrasound. I’ve never been to a baby scan before. I don’t know what to expect. They spread jelly onto her belly and rub the wand on it. I watch Quinn closely, but she’s staring at the screen so hard she doesn’t look back at me.

“Alright, nice healthy heartbeat right here,” the nurse says, pulling me out of watching Quinn. I look at the screen, and it feels like my own heart stops. There’s a baby, my baby, on the screen. I can see it right there; it’s wiggling, and it looks like an actual human baby, not the weird little bean from the first ultrasound.

“Do you want to know the sex?” the nurse asks as she continues looking at different angles.

“No,” Quinn answers quickly. We discussed it the other night, and I told her that I’m happy with whatever she wants. She decided that she wanted to find out on our own, not in the doctor’s office. I agreed it sounded more personal and special that way.

“Can you write it in an envelope for us to open later?” Quinn asks.

“Of course.”

The room falls quiet as she continues measuring different body parts and captures pictures for us to be able to take home. I glance at Quinn, and she’s watching me now. She smiles sweetly at me, and I gently squeeze her hand back in a non-verbal communication. I’m in awe watching the precious baby wiggle around on the screen. I can’t believe that’s in Quinn’s body. After the ultrasound, we meet with the doctor to go over the ultrasound results. Quinn has relaxed now that she’s seen the baby, and the ultrasound tech said everything looked good.

The doctor sits down, and she instantly says, “Everything looks great. You have a healthy baby.” I didn’t realize that I was nervously waiting for that confirmation too.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the doctor says to me, and I nod, still struggling to swallow down the emotion that I had been pushing down for Quinn all morning.

“I want to talk about some logistics. These kinds of questions are things I like to make sure first-time parents, especially ones not married, are thinking about. The due date will come sooner than you think, and you really do need to be prepared,” the doctor continues. “Have you thought about whether you want an epidural or natural birth?”

“I’d like an epidural,” Quinn says. “I’m amazed by those who do it naturally, but it won’t be me this time,” she laughs. This was something we hadn’t talked about, and I hadn’t even thought about. Obviously, Quinn has. It’s a bit eye-opening to realize exactly how much more she has thought about all of this.

“Great. And will you try to breastfeed?” the doctor asks.

“Yes, I would love to,” Quinn answers automatically.

Once again, I’m surprised by how thoughtful she is and completely unaware I am.

“Wonderful! Have you discussed living arrangements and how nursing will work with that? Not all babies like bottles, so it might take a little bit of work, but Dad should be able to bottle feed the baby if you’re able to pump. It really is easier if babies have a set schedule as well. I recommend figuring out sleeping arrangements and naps together so that you both can be on the same page.”

Quinn is nodding in agreement, but my mind has started to spin. I feel like I can’t keep up. The doctor continues talking about Quinn’s labor, future appointments for the baby, things that can help with the baby’s sleep, things that are unsafe for the baby and should be avoided, and how difficult it can be for a baby, or child, to be split between two houses. I look down at the ultrasound in my hand and swallow. I can’t hear anything else they are saying as I study this tiny child who is going to change everything for the rest of my life. I take a few deep breaths as the room starts to feel like it’s closing on me.