SEPTEMBER, 1994, SEATTLE, WA
"OKAY, SIT STILL. Don't move," Kurt instructed, pointing at Lindy from where she laid on the couch with her legs outstretched to the other end. She raised her eyebrows at him.
"I can't move. Even if I wanted to."
Her stomach was so big now that even walking down the apartment stairs left her winded. Along with that, her ankles were swollen to twice their normal size, which made it painful to put any weight on her feet. Kurt had ended up being just as doting as he had once promised, feeding Lindy cooked meals (he'd strayed from his usual serving of mac n' cheese) and rubbing her lower back when she was in pain. Throughout it all, not once had he craved heroin since his first full month out of rehab.
"You can move, I watched you basically run into the kitchen yesterday when I made pizza rolls!" Kurt cried.
"That was the baby doing all the work, not me," Lindy groaned, flopping her arm over her eyes. Pizza rolls had been one of her many cravings during her pregnancy.
"Alright both of you, listen up," Kurt said. He grabbed the neck of Trae's old guitar, propped up by the television stand from past use, and walked it back over to the couch and sat down.
"Singing won't make it better this time," Lindy grimaced, halfway sitting up and watching Kurt fiddle with the tuning pegs.
"This isn't for you," Kurt laughed. "Sorry," he added, catching Lindy's glare.
"I'm offended," Lindy sniffed. Kurt had recently taken to creating new music with her sitting by his side and loyally offering praise. She'd told him that the sound of his voice, along with his playing, was as therapeutic as anything else that she'd tried to ease her pregnancy pain.
"This for Baby Bean Two," Kurt explained. He strummed a few chords, pleased with the sound.
"Ah, putting on a concert for the little kicker?"
"Sort of. I want the baby to know my voice when it comes out. You know how they always know their parents' voices when they're born? I'm worried it won't know mine since I wasn't around for very long."
"Kurt, the baby will know your voice," Lindy told him, always quick to console his fears. He didn't listen, too busy plucking the opening strings to his song. Lindy quieted, allowing Kurt his moment.
"It's dark where I am,
Scary place, no air, no feelings,
Teach me to breathe again,
Stop my stupid soul from reeling
You're there too, hidden in the black
It's different when you can feel her love,
Together we survive,
It's you who I'm in awe of"
Lindy listened to each word that Kurt sang, watching when he closed his eyes and curled his lips around the lyrics flowing from his mouth. His lyrics had always remained an enigma to her, but these made apparent sense, even if it was not obvious to her right away. Kurt had clearly written the song with someone in mind.
He sang a little more, often glancing down at Lindy's belly before he ended the performance on a ringing note, leaning down and singing right at Lindy's womb, making her laugh.
"Very pretty," she complimented as Kurt sat the guitar down on the floor. She applauded politely, imagining that somewhere inside of her uterus, their baby was probably clapping too.
"Thanks. I wrote that one the other day."
"Any inspiration behind it?"
"Just the person I was singing to."
