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Tom had been fretting from the moment they stepped foot inside the hotel. If she was honest about it, perhaps even from the moment the pregnancy test had read positive months ago, but hyped up in this moment where his expectations were not immediately met. He tried to hide his grumbling under his breath as he helped her up the stairs, but there was nothing Tom could hide from Becky that she didn’t see through. He did wait until they were inside the room, the door closed to any employee’s ears, to rant.
"No elevator?!"
Becky huffed silently and let Tom help her to the armchair. Nearly eight months pregnant, she was struggling a little to move around, no longer the agile cheer captain she had been anyways, but Tom often treated more like she was infirm than simply carrying their child. Still, there was a comfort like nothing else to being so pampered by him and she was glad that, if he had to go overboard, at least it was in this direction. She watched him drop the bags to the ground, beautiful old polished floorboards, the room absolutely lovely in all other ways as well, and frenetically unpack their things, gesticulating as he spoke.
"I saw how he looked at me," he said, "But I’ll find someone else who lets me check on the machinery, I swear. What if you were in a wheelchair? They can’t just not have a working elevator!"
Becky smiled to herself. He was right − of course, he was right − but she doubted that he would have had nearly the same reaction if they had come here a mere few months ago before her belly had started to grow bigger every day. Something brisk in every motion, determined, he was emptying their suitcase on the bed and she leaned over to pick up a small plastic bag that was hers.
"Their breakfast times are a little wonky, but that’s nothing, I’ll just go downstairs and get us a tray to eat up here…"
He was venting more to soothe himself than for real conversation. As such, Becky made no particular effort to reply. The couple getaway had been planned long in advance, before they had found out about the upcoming addition to their home. Elevator or not, the place was lovely and the perfect location to relax and reminisce.
Since they had found each other again, Tom and Becky practiced the guilty but oh so satisfying tradition of celebrating not just their wedding anniversary (only feasted once thus far, but how she longed for five, ten, fifty years together if they could reach them) and the anniversary of their first date as adults, but also the secretive day of their first kiss, their first flustered confessions of feelings back in the days when everything was as rosy as the crush taking over their whole hearts. Fourteen and fifteen years old, thrilled by even just the touch of their hands together, she could still remember that Halloween party just like it was yesterday. At the same time, it might as well have been centuries ago, yet the same buzz moved her heart when she watched her rambling husband worry himself over a thousand things.
At least, the house was in relatively safe hands. Lex was too much of a loner to throw a hurricane of a party in their absence, only a few friends over to watch movies. The younger two might go trick-or-treating, though Tim had declared that he thought he was too old for it this year. Becky was certain that Lex would make it her goal that the poor boy got tricked right at home anyways, probably a few jumpscares or pranks. Tom would insist on checking with them later that night and every day they weren’t home, she was sure, but nothing that wouldn’t also reassure her.
"I’ll go check the plumbing," he said, grabbing their toiletry bags to dispatch them to the bathroom. "If they can’t even get us from the ground floor to our room, I don’t trust this place all that much with the rest."
From the bed, she picked up her nightshirt she spotted tucked under his pajamas and changed into it to feel more cozy. Old-fashioned flowery wallpaper, a wide sturdy bed, satin sheets embroidered with pale gold and pink, elegant vintage furniture, there was nothing wrong with this place at all. The lights were dim and she switched them a little more so. She was glad to be spending a few days here in the sole company of him, even though she did feel a little sore, a little tired. Tom made it his mission to soothe her either way.
Candles from her plastic bag, not real ones as per Tom’s strict refusal. Becky didn’t believe they were especially more of a fire hazard than the jack-o-lanterns littering the entrance hall of the hotel, but she also didn’t believe in dying on a hill she had no special stake in. Tom’s peace of mind came at the price of a few LED candles she placed on the nightstand closest to her. She waddled to the other side just as Tom came back.
"Everything is fine, thank fuck."
He frowned at seeing her up and about but equally so, it was a meager compromise to let his wife wander wherever the heck she pleased, heavily pregnant or not, even if he did prefer to see her rest. Becky put down some candles on the other nightstand and the room felt even cozier. She gave him a smile and for just a moment, he was quiet again, smiling back.
"Let me just put those away."
He checked the mattress for bed bugs − Becky preferred not to point out that unpacking the clothes on the bed might have been a better idea post examination − and started putting away the few days’ worth of outfits in the wardrobe. Becky occupied the empty half of the bed, lying there comfortably.
"I’ll call for reservations tomorrow morning," Tom said, "For that restaurant you wanted. I think they have like a pumpkin special or something? That sounds kinda nice."
"Tom," she said softly.
He didn’t seem to hear her and she cleared her throat. She arranged herself better on the soft, soft pillows, crossed her bare legs. She was just wearing an old shirt that had used to be his but which she had appropriated for herself. It was comfortable because it was Tom’s.
"The app says the weather is supposed to be nice, we could do one of those rides around town, if you want."
"Tom, come here."
The last few clothes being put away, almost done. A few feet between them, yet Becky longed for him.
"Just a sec," he said. "The fair looked nice too, hopefully there’s not too many people and we still get to…"
"Tom!"
Finally he turned to her and she loved him all the more for his sheepish little pout at her raising her voice even just slightly to grab his attention. She reached over to the dimmer on the nightstand to bathe the room only in yellow-ish LED candlelight. Tom’s arms still up in the air after hanging up her shirts in the wardrobe fell to his side and he gulped.
"Yeah?"
Becky leaned up a little higher on her elbows, gave him a smile which she hoped was seductive. She crossed her legs the other way around and loved seeing him glance down despite himself, the visible rise and fall of his long breath. The sheets were so soft under her bare skin.
"Come to bed," she said in a low voice. "And stop fretting."
Tom came to bed. And he stopped fretting.