Getting out of the office.
Meegan growled her frustration and violently threw another piece of sketch paper at the overflowing trash can. She needed three more designs for her fall '07 line. The great thing about being in Gothic fashion was that she didn't have to keep up with trends. She could do what she wanted to and the more deviant it was from the trends the better it sold. She had been working furiously to have the next four lines done before Christmas, but damned if she could make her brain come up with more than blue silk corsets. It had been four days since she started this particular designing bender. She'd seen Rachyl all of three hours in that time and she'd slept maybe six.
"My brain is fried."
She growled at the charcoal in her hand and in a rare show of anger threw it across the room. it shattered against the glass wall next to the door and made her jump. Sighing she rose from the art table and walked over to the black pile on the floor. "Damn."
She hated making messes. She pulled up her skirt a little, crouched and picked up the bigger pieces. The cleaning crew could get the rest. She dumped it in the trash and her eyes stuck on the large pile of crumpled paper. Anger, and frustration boiled up in her chest. She just couldn't do it anymore.
Stalking to her office door she shouted for her intern, Jill. She didn't shout often, ok almost never, so Jill came running. She'd stopped asking for Rachyl, she didn't want to do anything to put stress on her, or upset her, until after the dangerous 12th week had passed. Then she could start shouting at her again. The thought made her chuckle a little and her anger had dissipated, by the time Jill was sitting in the guest chair pencil poised over a yellow legal pad.
"Jill, I want you to call the Piazza and reserve a room for three nights and four days, for two. Order whatever the super deluxe package thing is massage, facials, food, all of that stuff. Every service the offer, I want. Tell the staff that they are to look to their department heads for anything over the next four days. I am putting...Raven in charge. She's the head of advertising. She can hold down the fort for a few days. I'll call her.
If there is a problem she can't handle and no one else can think of a solution, then I can be contacted. Otherwise I do not want to be disturbed. Ok that's it. Call me on my cell when the reservations are ready. You guys have a great weekend and I'll see you Monday."
Jill smiled at Meegan and darted from the room. 'That girl is going to have to grow a set if she wants to make it in this industry. Not everyone is as nice as I am.'
Shaking her head, Meegan stepped into Rachyl's office and watched the top of the red head bent over a stack of papers.
"How does four days of total laziness and pampering sound to you?"
The sudden anger-filled shout of "Jill!" from Meegan's doorway surprised her a little; she half expected a "Rachyl!" if not an "I'm going home!" The petite brunette ran into Meegan's office from her cubicle right outside. Meegan had hired her shortly after the press conference and their subsequent 'outing.' Usually well dressed, she was petite - though not as petite as Rachyl - and exceptionally thin, with high cheekbones and furtive brown eyes. That's the only way Rachyl could describe them. She watched Jill sometimes, from her desk. The younger woman always looked around, watched from a lowered brow through her eyelashes as people entered and left Meegan's office, her gaze darting from model to client to employee to her work.
Thinking of watching Jill over her work set Rachyl back to her own, to the running tally of the month's shipments and some new hire information. That, of course, drew her back to the day of Jill's starting at the factory, when Martha commented she and Jill could be sisters or cousins. Affecting a look of pained denial, Rachyl treated the woman to lunch the next day for having given her one of the best laughs she'd had in a while.
Suddenly Megan appeared in front of her desk. Looking up at the designer, she could see a vestige of frustrated furrow on the blonde's forehead as she asked her question. Raising her pen to her lip, Rachyl tilted her head minutely as she replied deadpan, "It sounds nice, but, well, it depends on which four days you mean. Will Columbus Day, the two days of Thanksgiving, and Christmas Monday work for you?"
"Come on, woman, shut down your computer and lock up. There is nothing in that pile that can't wait four days."
She waggled sculpted, and black lined eyebrows at the red-head and turned to follow her own advice. She picked up the phone and punched in Raven's extension as she began to tidy her desk and put the computer through the shut down sequence.
She spoke with the pink-haired, heavily pierced Raven for all of five minutes. She agreed to be the go to person while Meegan and Rachyl took some much needed time off. She didn't think her employees were going to be so giving when July rolled around and Meegan had only been at work once a week for the last six. Chuckling, as she hung up, she pushed back from the computer, grabbed her portfolio, briefcase, purse, and the cute little leather jacket that stopped just under her rib cage. It went really well with the iridescent peacock colored corset and floor length skirt she wore.
She stepped out of her office and locked the door. The stood in Rachyl's door, waiting while her lover went through the same motions minus the portfolio.
When she turned around, surprised by Meegan's reappearance, she squeaked. "Woman!" she exhaled exasperatedly. After a moment of mock-glaring at her lover, hand on her denim-clad hip, Rachyl moused her computer around to shut it down then locked up her desk. Stepping around to her door, Rachyl glanced around to see if anyone was nearby, then reached her hand up and tugged at the corner of the jacket hanging between Meegan's breasts. Whispering with an arched brow, she lamented, "Wish I could wear one, maybe I might look half as hot as you do with this thing on."
She questioned herself for a moment as she flicked the lightswitch to their offices. Why did she continue to feel she needed to disguise their relationship while at the office? She had gotten her position prior to any hanky panky between herself and Meegan, though admittedly the two followed rather closely, chronologically. Not to mention the fact that the whole press conference had taken place in Gothic-Ah's showroom. Shrugging mentally, she knew it was better to be professional in the workplace - minus the 1.4% that occasionally took place inside Meegan's office - and was glad she held true to that standard.
She walked a half step behind Meegan as they approached the elevator. When the doors slid open, the two women stepped inside. Turning to face the door, a button was pushed for the lobby. As the vessel began to move, Rachyl brought out her deadpan again as she commented, "So. Tell me what you want for Christmas."
They played this game a lot. Neither of them wanted anything specific for Christmas. Rachyl would be at the half way mark around that time and starting to show. Though Meegan was certain her belly had rounded just a little. It should be rounding at all, but then again, Rachyl was carrying twins.
Meegan figured she would take a day and spend it on the strip until she found something for Rachyl. She was leaning toward jewelry, but mostly she just didn't care at the moment. It wasn't even October yet. Though she already had employee Christmas gifts ordered along with the usual crap she sent her family back in Virginia. She planned on spending a lot of time finding the perfect gift for her lover, and the mother of her children. That still sounded weird...
"Rachyl, you know all I want is for you to be happy. If you want to buy something fine, but I'm not giving you a list. Takes all the fun out of it anyway."
The elevator dinged open and they made their way to the garage. They'd brought only Meegan's car today, because she'd told Rachyl to make her leave at quitting time, instead of burning the midnight oil on a few designs. She was glad they just had the one car.
She nodded against Meegan's shoulder at the comment about being happy. "A list would be a fertile foundation for growing ideas, though." That was not to say Rachyl didn't have any ideas at all; sometimes it was fun to play the 'maybe I do, maybe I don't' game, too. Mystery was good; the communication was better. Sometimes hints would be dropped. Other times, skirts and blouses would.
Opening the door for Meegan after the keyless entry's chirp announced its unlocked state, Rachyl leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Walking around the front of the car, sashaying her bottom with a salacious wink, she opened and entered the passenger door. A thought occurred to her as she asked, "You enjoy driving your Miss Daisy around, doncha? Perhaps," she mused, keeping her gaze straight ahead to keep her expression neutral, "I shall ask that you respond to me as 'Yes'm' and 'No'm' for Christmas." Unable to resist the temptation to look at Meegan, her focus had barely reached her lover's face when a snort exploded from her lips and she began giggling fiercely.
She backed out of her space, and set them on their way home. They chattered about this, that and nothing as they drove. She pulled into the circular drive in front of the house, since they would be leaving again shortly. Meegan grabbed their bags out of the back, while Rachyl unlocked the front door and turned off the alarm.
The house smelled of cinnamon and spice, the cleaning lady must have turned on the candle warmer while she worked. Meegan inhaled deeply, it reminded her of cozy kitchens and loving families, the main reason she'd chosen the scent when the fall candles had come out at Pottery Barn. She toed off her shoes as she flipped through the mail Rachyl had handed her. It was mostly bills, two fashion magazines and an envelope with the Arch Dioses of the Greater Nachton Area as the return address.
She sighed softly and placed the peacock colored Jimmy Choo's on the little tray under the hall table. Tomorrow morning the cleaning lady would wipe down the soles of them and put them in her closet. It kept the carpets cleaned and was a tiny luxury Meegan had come to take for granted.
Meegan flipped the cream colored envelope over and slid her finger under the flap and opened it. She pulled out one sheet of heavy weight, cream colored paper with the Arch Dioses letter head at the top. As she read, Rachyl took the bags from her and headed upstairs, Meegan followed absently. She'd finished the letter by the time she made it to their room and dabbed gently at her eyes, getting black liner all over her fingers.
"Damn it."
She thrust the letter at Rachyl, to answer her questioning gaze, and went into the bathroom to wash her hands and clear up the mess the few tears had made. The make up was hopeless as the thick line under her right eye was smudged clear down to her cheek bone. Sighing she turned on the shower, and peeled herself out of her clothes, placing them in the proper hamper for the dry cleaners.
It had finally happened. It took them longer than she had expected, but it was there in black and cream. She was excommunicated from the church. She had been cast aside and deemed unworthy to worship as a Catholic. Oh she could still go to the catholic church, but communion was forbidden to her, and only through complete repentance and absolution could she return to the sacrament.
She stepped into the steaming water and let the new tears mingle with the deluge. It wasn't even that important, she could find a new church, receive God's blessings, have her children baptized, and worship in another place. God would not forsake her, even though the Catholic church thought she would spend eternity in purgatory, or worse hell.
It was the rejection that had tears stinging her eyes. She gave in and let them flow. It was better to get it all out now, instead of holding it in and have it come out in a Design meeting.
"To the Attention of Meegan Masters,
Parishoner of the Diocese of Nachton
This missive is to inform you that the Council of Bishops has determined the following:
That you, as a member of the Nachton parish
That you, as a self-proclaimed "lesbian"
That you, as one who has admitted to procreation without the benefit of a male partner who has been joined to you in the bonds of Holy Matrimony
That you, as one who has admitted to living a lifestyle that is not in accordance with Catholic doctrine and beliefs
Are hereby excommunicated from the Catholic Church.
Herewith and henceforth, you are barred from receiving the Sacrament of the Eucharist until such time, if applicable, as you repent and atone for your sins and find absolution through Our Lord, Jesus Christ.
So signed,"
Rachyl stopped reading. She felt anger rising in her, but the sound of Meegan entering the shower brought her attention to the woman she loved. She was torn for a moment... On one hand, she wanted to run to her lover's arms, to comfort her in her moments of grief... On the other, she realized that she, as Meegan's life partner, was the living, walking embodiment of Meegan's loss.
Knowing though, as her blurry gaze dropped to the cream condemnation, that Meegan wouldn't think of it that way, as the designer herself had sought out this judgement, mother-to-be Rachyl Walker shed her clothes quickly and entered their bathroom.
The door of the shower was ajar, just enough to allow a finger to snake around the edge. Nonetheless, Rachyl tapped. She heard a gasping sound. The overly worried hyperimaginative writer in her (that had been buried for far too long) spoke up, saying "What if she's trying to drown herself?"
The logical part of Rachyl shook that thought off as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Softly she whispered, "Meegan?"
"I'm ok. I just wasn't expecting it is all."
She pulled her loofah from it's little peg and poured her jasmine and vanilla scented bath cream on it. She stayed under the spray as she bathed, letting the motions soothe her jangled nerves. She handed the poof of plastic to Rachyl and sigh softly as she scrubbed the tension from her back.
"I don't want to talk about it. It's done and over with, I wont change who I am or what I've done, or who I love. The Catholic Church can shove it up their collective pompous asses. I don't want this to ruin our weekend, okay?"
She turned around and pulled Rachyl close, she didn't regret her decisions, not one bit. This showed her just how much she really did love Rachyl. Starting Sunday they would find a new church, and be happy.
Wishing briefly she were tall enough to stand behind Meegan and rest her chin on the other woman's shoulder and envelop her in protective, loving, caring arms, Rachyl settled for wrapping her arms around the taller woman's belly, locking them just below her breasts and nuzzled her face into the soft spot between her shoulderblades.
When Meegan turned back to her with her comment about not wanting to talk about it - something Rachyl had guessed anyway - she simply nodded her assent. Sighing as she was pulled into Meegan, the redhead looked up into her lover's eyes and saw nothing but caring. Smirking somewhat as her own hands stroked the designer's back, she commented, "You know, we're going to start this weekend out weird. Pamper weekends are supposed to start with stress, not destressing sex... Then again," she added musingly, putting a suds-covered finger to her cheek, "we do buck convention just about every day of the week, don't we, m'love?"
After another soft kiss, Meegan turned around and washed the day's quantity of hair spray from her hair. When she finished, she switched places with Rachyl, and placed another soft kiss on her lover's lips.
"I'll get our bags ready. Are jeans ok with you?"
At Rachyl's affirmative "sure," Meegan stepped out of the steamy shower and pulled a big white fluffy towel from the warming rack. With it wrapped securely around her body she took a smaller towel out of the linen closet and wrapped it turban style around her hair.
In the bed room, she pulled out a garment bag and a suit case, from under the bed, and placed them on top of it. In the closet she pulled out three pairs of jeans from her side and three pairs from Rachyl's. They both wore the same size tops, which meant they could pool their wardrobes, she pulled six shirts and blouses from the beyond too large selection, and placed them on her arm over the jeans. She moved back to Rachyl's side and selected a little black cocktail dress, and a little black cocktail dress from her own side.
She carried the now very heavy arm load to the bed, and went back into the closet for shoes, a pair of heels, boots, and tennis shoes for each of them. With those on the bed she went to the chest of drawers and pulled out bras, panties, socks, pantyhose, and night clothes.
With everything picked out, she peeled her towels off and pulled another pair of jeans from the closet along with a sheer black blouse. Black panties and bra completed the outfit, along with a pair of ankle boots, that went under the leg of her jeans.
After Rachyl came out of the bathroom, she went in and pulled her hair into a ponytail, and pulled out their travel case with make up essentials and travel sizes of their bath products. She took that back into the bedroom and while Rachyl dressed she packed up their bags. Rachyl was lacing up her boots, as Meegan pulled the zipper of the garment bag closed.
They hadn't spoke much in the intervening time, but Meegan was ok with that. She didn't exactly feel like talking. She'd feel better in a few hours, but right now, she needed to mope. She was just about to ask Rachyl is she was ready when her cell phone rang. She dashed down stairs and panting, answered it on the fourth and final ring before it went to voice mail.
It was Jill, telling her that a reservation had been made under Rachyl's name, keeping her name of the register was standard op, and that they would be expecting them with in the hour. Meegan thanked her and turned to find Rachyl half way down the stairs with both bags.
She very nearly yelled in frustration at the red-head, but managed to bite the retort back. Instead she met Rachyl half way and took the heavy garment bag from her, knowing she'd put up a bit of a fuss if she tried to take both. Meegan often forgot that Rachyl was not suddenly made from fine china now that she was a mommy-to-be, a fact Rachyl reminded her of just as often.
"They're waiting for us. Ready?"
She dressed quickly. Momentarily tempted by the 'dark sister' of her white corset top - a black pleather and lace number - she settled upon a much-looser-about-the-chest black and gray pinstripe piece. Forgoing a bra, she slid into plain black panties and a pair of black jeans. Ignoring her still-damp curls for a moment as she tied on her boots, she looked up to see Meegan looking at her. The sudden ringing of Meegan's cellphone - Rachyl occasionally joked with the designer that she should have a more Gothy ringtone - ended the possibility of any speech.
Stepping into the bathroom again, Rachyl tugged her unruly damp curls into a ponytail. When she returned to the bedroom, she realized neither of the bags had migrated downstairs. Picking up the garment bag, she hefted it over her shoulder, then grabbed the extra suitcase with her hand. She made her way downstairs.
The redhead was sure Meegan was going to say something, but then the blonde met her halfway up the stairs. Rachyl stood mutely while Meegan took the garment bag, and accompanied her down to the first floor. When her lover asked if she was ready, Rachyl set down their suitcase and turned to the other woman, hands and arms loose at her sides. "No."
She reached her hands out to Meegan's, and pulled them up, palms facing, and interlaced their fingers together. "This is you and I. We are intertwined, Meegan Masters, from now until forever." She slowly unlaced a couple of her fingers as she continued to speak. "This is how I feel when you don't tell me how you're feeling. I feel... unlaced. Unconnected. When you got off the phone with Jill, you wanted to say something, maybe to say something loudly. I wouldn't have minded, but I hate when you keep things inside you all the time. I'm not fine china, Meegan. I'm more physically fit than I was when I came out of high school. I'm more emotionally and mentally sure of myself than I ever have been."
She slowly re-laced their fingers as she continued. "I'm pregnant. With our children. And I'm your lover. Your life partner. I need you to know you can share things with me, no matter how much you think you shouldn't. I need you to feel comfortable with me, especially when I'm going through a lot of changes right now. Things will be different for you and I, very much so over the next few months, indeed the next few years. But I will be with you the whole way, Meegan. My love is and will continue to be yours, as will that of our children." Rachyl swallowed, paused to catch her breath, when she felt the sudden dampness of a tear drip from her cheek onto her chest.
"Oh." She started to say more, but Rachyl continued. When tears began to fall down her lover's face, she reached with her free hand and wiped them away with her thumb. She was moved by Rachyl, she always was when this woman professed her love for the designer. It amazed her to know she had had two loves in her life and of the two, this one was the one that broke her heart in two and mended it up every day.
It kept her head afloat, helped her move past the grief of her parents' death, the loss of the first man she had ever loved, and find a friend in a vampire. Rachyl allowed her to be the temperamental designer she was and loved her for her brooding moods. Rachyl enjoyed punk rock, goth metal and all the other crazy things Meegan listened to when designing.
"In that case...you shouldn't carry heavy bags, or anything else heavy for that matter, and you should sleep more, work less, and eat more green things."
She smiled gently at her lover and pulled the woman close, breathing deeply of their mingled scents. In that moment she realized that she was truly and deeply in love. Story book love. The thought made her sigh.
Mumbling into Meegan's bosom, she exclaimed, "And I am very well going to carry my bag to the car, thank you!"
Breathing deeply at the jasmine and vanilla scented beauty enveloping her in tenderness, she nuzzled closer when she felt and heard the intake of Meegan's sigh. Rachyl allowed a moment of mutual silence and comfort to go by before logically stating, "Though you know I wouldn't mind it, the Piazza front desk would complain if we were to stand here for the next hour, relishing each other's embrace."
Picking up the suitcase with a defiant look at her lover, she opened the door and stepped outside while waiting for Meegan to set the alarm and lock the door.
The suitcase and garment bag fit nicely on the back seat of Meegan's Lexus, and they drove to the Piazza in companionable silence. As was standard practice, Rachyl entered the hotel and requested their room key while Meegan parked and brought in the bags. After grabbing a flyer of the weekend's TV and spa specials, the redhead came up quietly behind the blonde at the elevator from the parking garage. Mischief abounded in Rachyl's tone as she affected a down-home accent. "Hey good lookin'. You stayin' alone tonight, or would you like a little company?"
A bell hop rushed outside and picked them up before she had even finished tipping and thanking the valet. She went to the elevator bank to wait for Rachyl, the bell hop positioning himself a pace behind her.
"Hey good lookin'. You stayin' alone tonight, or would you like a little company?"
Keeping her face neutral, Meegan lifted one sculpted brow and looked down at the redhead standing beside her.
"I guess that depends on the kind of company you're offering."
The elevator dinged open, and the three of them trooped inside. Rachyl swiped their room key in the slot provided, to access the upper floors. The car stopped on the 49th floor with a small ding. The bell hop took the room key Rachyl offered him, and led the way to the corner suit that over looked down town Nachton.
As the bellhop carried their cases into the master bedroom of the suite, Rachyl unlocked and tugged the door open to the balcony. Gazing over downtown, still lit from the south-western sun but shadowed by an approaching weather front, the green of the nature preserve caught her eye. Turning back to look into the suite, she leaned against the balcony's edge, her shoulders barely coming to the top of the protective barrier. She saw Meegan tip the bellhop then after the red-bedecked man exited, spoke with a bit of volume into the open portal. "I still can't believe they named the nature preserve after that mayor. I don't remember a single good thing he did for the city." Mentally she added, "Well, except to die," but even as she uncharitably recalled the charity dinner, knew that dozens of other people had been hurt - including Meegan and herself.
She walked into the little kitchen and opened the fridge. It was stocked with assorted fruits, cheese cubes neatly arranged on a glass platter, and several bottles of wine and sparkling cider. Jill had been thorough, Meegan made a mental note to slip a bonus in her pay check the next week. She pulled out a bottle of white wine and a bottle of sparkling cider, after glancing at her watch, 'Oh well, it's five o'clock somewhere." She found a cabinet with wine glasses and a drawer with a corkscrew. She took her prize out to the balcony and placed it on the small bistro table near Rachyl.
"It's a lovely view, the air is so clear today."
She peeled the foil from the sparkling cider and broke the wax seal with the end of the corkscrew, and began to wiggle the cork loose as she spoke.
"Jill did a great job with the room. There's fruit and things in the fridge, and I'm sure all of the wonderful relaxing things I want to do this weekend are booked and ready to go."
The cork came off with a gentle pop, and Meegan poured the golden liquid into a flute for Rachyl.
"Rachyl, are you doing ok?"
She didn't feel like she asked that question and really meant it lately. They talked about physical health, but Meegan new her lover's health better than she knew her own. No she was worried about Rachyl's feelings, not how swollen her ankles felt that morning. She sometimes forgot to ask about the mental side of things, even with herself.
Rachyl watched as Meegan popped open the sparkling cider. She was half tempted to make a statement about having seperate beverages. Temptation won out as her lover filled the glass. "You know, soon I'm going to tease you about it being unfair that you get the good sloshy stuff."
She picked up the golden filled flute and held it, staring into the liquid for a few moments, swirling it around, before responding. "I'm doing okay. Certain aspects of the complications of my pregnancy are a little frustrating, but I consider myself lucky that my morning sickness didn't last so long, and that I don't have some other common problems women can develop." She half-shrugged and took Meegan's hand in her own. "You know me. The silent rock. If something was bothering me, you know I'm not the one to hold it in." With the last, she pointedly arched her brows as she regarded the taller woman.
"I think a little about work sometimes, worrying about what you'll do without me for fifteen plus months. I think about my mom... I mean all we told her was that we were trying to get pregnant, but we still haven't told her yes. Though I think I understand your reason why, but I am not quite sure I understand my own." Rachyl set her glass down and fiddled with the foil seal on Meegan's wine bottle. "I worry about Nyra. She and I haven't barely talked since Connie's birthday dinner, and even then she was quiet and withdrawn. I worry about Connie, and what she's going through with Nyra. I worry about you and what you're going through with the mother of your children. I mean, that's gotta be a handful and a half, you know? Mood swings, strange cravings... Oooh, you know, I really could go for pumpkin pie with spinach dip..." Rachyl closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake the sudden craving out of her mind. Taking a moment to swallow the sudden abundance of saliva in her mouth, she licked her lips and, looking up into Meegan's eyes she continued, "I'm sure it's been really rough on you, appreciating and not quite understanding what she's going through."
Tears welling up, blurring her vision, Rachyl sniffed, "And I'm sure she doesn't say often enough how lucky she is to have you as both lover and mother of her children."
The cork came out of the bottle with a satisfying little pop. She sniffed gently at the cork and was pleased at the aroma. She poured a small amount ito her glass and swirled it. It was a very pretty wine, but she honestly didn't care if it tasted like vinegar, she was just keeping herself busy while Rachyl talked. Meegan wrinkled her nose at Rachyl's admission of her current craving. She had already gone to the grocery store at two in the morning for pickle spears and chunky peanut butter, 'Not that all natural crap you make me eat, but the good stuff. I want Jiff.' She closed her eyes and repressed the shudder that ran through her.
Rachyl was right, things were really rough on her. Mostly because she didn't understand what was going on in Rachyl's body and couldn't completely share in everything the red-head was going through. She could only do her best to make Rachyl more comfortable and stay out of the way when things flew through the air. Well Rachyl had only thrown that pen that one time, but in her defense it had run out of ink. The memory made her smile as she filled her glass with wine. She set the glass down, and pulled Rachyl into a hug, her hand playing over the length of red curled ponytail.
"You say it often enough for me. You know, Sigmund Freud once said, 'I could live two months on one good compliment.' I don't need to hear the words a hundred times a day. Your actions speak much louder than any words that could come out of your mouth, my love."
After a moment of that simple touch, Rachyl rested her forehead against Meegan's chest, listening to her lover's heartbeat. "Do we have plans for activities tonight? Do you think there's any warnings against the facilities being used by pregnant women? Can we go swimming? Do you think they have a 'must be this tall to ride' sign?" Her mind shifted gears again as she spoke. "I wonder what'll happen... since you're taller, and your Dad was taller, and our donor is taller... I had a grandmother that I met once or twice that was shorter than Mom, but from what Mom said later on she never had any problems putting her foot down or making herself heeded. I love being my height but I wouldn't wish it on anyone, you know? Especially not our children."
"Our children will be the height they are supposed to be. If that means they are short, tall or in between. It doesn't really matter, so long as they are happy and healthy and have green eyes."
Meegan chuckled again and picked up her glass of wine. She sipped from it's contents, and put it back down.
"Let's go find the fax Jill should have sent that tells us what excitingly relaxing thing we'll be doing first."
She pulled gently away from Rachyl, and brushed at the trail of tears on one side of her face. Leaning dow, she pressed a soft kiss to her lip, before pulling away, picking up her wine and walking onto the suit in search of the fax machine.
It was tucked away in a cabinet on the desk area. She picked up the single sheet of paper on it and read through the itinerary.
"It seems the first order of business is an evening at the spa, with a light dinner and swimming to follow. How does that sound to you?"