Cowboys & Angels

Twenty Eight

You're a southern belle, hell of a sweetheart
We could go out fishing in the dark
Do it our own way, throw the truck in park, yeah
I heard you like to raise hell, you're from the outer parts
When I'm looking at you, I don't know where to start
There ain't no going back, now look at where we are, damn

All My Life x Chase Matthew

Jake

Something is absolutely, undoubtedly off with Beckham.  She hasn't been her normal, outgoing self lately and I swear I see panic in her eyes every morning when I leave for work.  I've spent years being a huge part of her life, and I've never seen her eat less than she has been lately. 

The first few weeks, I chalked it up to being overwhelmingly exhausted from having our whole ass child and being kidnapped.  Then, I figured it was anxiety over me going back to work.  Now, I'm not so sure.  I also don't know how exactly to ask her about it, because I don't want to rub salt on a wound by accident.  Yesterday, I finally broke down and went to Penny for some advice. 

"Hey, Pen?  Can I ask your advice on something?" I had dropped by the Hard Deck after work on my way home real quick. 

She quickly responded, concern apparent in her eyes.  "Of course, what's up?"

"I don't think Beck's been eating nearly enough and she seems...I dunno how to word it exactly?  Distant maybe?  I figure she has every right to be, given the events of the last 2 months.  She swears she's fine but I don't see it being fine."  I explained dejectedly. 

Penny thinks on it for a second, seeming to put the puzzle pieces together in her head.  Once they all click into place, her eyes find mine again. 

"When's her 6 week follow up?"

"She's scheduled next week, Tuesday I think," I try to remember off the top of my head.

"Are you planning on going with her?"

"If she wants me there, absolutely.  I don't know how she feels about me going, though.  I don't wanna push anything, you know?"

"Ok, so here's what you should do," she started. 

With the advice she sent with me, I called her doctor's office just in case she didn't want to go with me.  I explained what was going on with the hope the doctor could discreetly bring things up without her being defensive.  It feels a little sneaky and underhanded, but I just want Beck to be ok.  Don't get me wrong though, she's a rockstar mama and wife, busting her ass to make sure we're both taken care of.  She barely lets me do anything while I'm home, says I deserve a break.  As if she doesn't need a break herself.  The thought alone makes me roll my eyes, but if it's what she needs, I'll do what I can.

I walk through the door, dropping my keys on the table by the garage on my way to the kitchen, where a fantastic smelling dinner has obviously been made.  A huge smile breaks across my face when I see Beckham moving around the kitchen with Emmy snugly tucked into the carrier at her chest. 

"Well hello there, ladies.  What lucky man gets to call you two gorgeous girls his?" I tease as my hands land on Beckham's hips and I kiss her head, then Emmy's. 

Beck rolls her eyes.  "As if we're not the lucky ones to have you, handsome.  How was work?"  She tilts her head back to get a full kiss before turning back to the stove to stir whatever is in the pan. 

"Another day dealing with oversized toddlers.  Whatcha making?  It smells amazing?"

"Just a little ranch seasoned and pan seared chicken to go with my one pot pasta," she grins at me, knowing damn well it's one of my favorites she makes me.  I groan in appreciation and give her another kiss, then make grabby hands for my daughter. 

"Gimme my little squish, daddy needs snuggles!"

Beckham laughs before she replies.  "You don't wanna shower first or something?  You've been working hard all day, honey."

"Showered at the hangar, darlin'.  Besides, you've been working all day too, taking care of our precious girl.   She may be tiny, but she has big feelings and even bigger poops," I tell her, this time adding a pout to the grabby hands when I reach back for Emmy.

Beckham unclips the buckles of the carrier and slips the tiny girl into my hands, and I swear my soul settles a little bit.   I sit down in a barstool at the counter, Emmy snoozing on my chest as I watch my wife scoot around the kitchen, cooking and cleaning as she goes. 

"Grab that blanket in the chair next to you to cover her up, she might be chilly now that she's not strapped to my heat producing blubber," she instructs with a laugh. 

Blubber?   The fuck?

"Angel, there's literally no fat on you.  I'm actually pretty sure you have a negative BMI with how damn tiny you are," I tell her, eyebrows furrowing. 

"Eh.  I don't think my boobs or abs will ever be where they were before, but at least they're getting less noticeable."

My heart hurts at the statement, the idea that she thinks she's anything less than perfection.  Any guilt I had about calling her doctor earlier has evaporated. 

"Beck, sweetheart, I have no idea what blubber you think you have, but you are the most stunning human to ever walk the planet.  And any imperfection you might think you have, just flush it out of your system now.  Because you will always make my jaw drop with how gorgeous, smart, funny, talented, and badass you are. Ok?"

"Whatever you say, cowboy.  Whatever you say," she says, which I'm sure is supposed to be an "agree to disagree" statement.  "Thank you though," she tells me with a smile, kissing me and effectively deflecting the conversation. 

"Let's eat!" She tells me with a grin and begins plating the fantastic food. 

I'm absolutely keeping my eye on her and what she eats during the day from here on out.  I hope she's at least eating enough to keep her from getting malnourished at this point, but next week should help. 

I hope.

•••••••••••••••••••••

They're baaaaaaack!  Sorry I fell off recently with these two, I'll make up for it soon!

Xoxo
💋