Sober, snoring softly, lay snuggled against her back in the big bed, one arm wrapped around her.
She twisted under his arm and nestled her head against his warm chest. His heart tapped against her ear with a happy little stutter, sounding as familiar as the dripping of the trees in the swamp.
He woke and squeezed her tightly to his chest and kissed the top of her head.
"I'm sorry I woke you," she said.
"Don't be. I'll be happy if I never sleep again. Sleep means time lost that could be better spent with you."
She thought of her father dragging out to fish in the mornings after sleepless nights filled with squalling babes. "Just you wait until the babies come. You'll be begging for sleep."
He stopped rubbing her back. "We'll have babies?"
She laughed and pushed herself off his chest to look into his face. "Of course we'll have—Did your parents never explain how babies come to be?"
He gave a deep chuckle. "Funny girl. Yes, now that you mention it, I think my parents did tell me something about it."
She snuggled into his neck. "We'll have a son." She was sure of it. He'd be born in a soft bed in a room lit by suncloths, and he would be no man's slave. "We'll call him Gladness."
And there would come rejoicing.
"Gladness sounds about right to me." Sober kissed her head again. "Maybe you'd better show me one more time exactly how the babies come about. I might have misunderstood."
Laughing, she lifted her face and kissed him back.
Yes, there would come rejoicing.
#
Acknowledgements
This has been a long journey and so many people have fanned my writing flames; we'd be here all day if I were to mention each one. But I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Becky Miller, who has been my writing partner and dear friend, lo, these many years.
And I must mention two people who are no longer with me here—my husband, Wassie, and my mother. Many people go their whole lives with no cheerleader at all, but God lavishly gave me two. I am not unaware of how much I owe to them and to Him.
And last, but certainly not least, I am grateful to my children: Shane, with his big, generous heart, and Nikki, who has always been my sweet Comfort.
About the Author
Sally Apokedak is a literary agent, reading and writing and editing books in sticky, muggy Atlanta. She often dreams of getting back to Alaska, where the ice is sticky but the air is crispy cool. But her grandbabies are in Georgia, so she'll be staying in the heat for the foreseeable future.
Sally also teaches at writer's conferences around the United States, and she has students in 110 countries in her Udemy courses. Come by her website to learn more:
WritingCoursesOnline.com
