Sometimes I write stuff.

Moody Spurgeon groaned as the door creaked before him, exaggerating his entrance into the florist’s small shop. It seemed his painless visit had been thwarted as he saw the florist rush over to assist him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ah, Mr. Spurgeon! So nice to see you out of that drafty church! How’s the missus fairing? Pretty little thing, I’ve always said…”

Moody’s smile was tight-lipped. “She’s well, Mr. Fairbanks, thank you for asking.” He began to fiddle with the hat in his hands. “She has been a little, erm, tired lately, so I thought -”

“Well, you certainly came to the right place!” interjected the eager florist as he gestured Moody towards the window display. “How about something nice and bright like these prairie roses to cheer her up?”

“She has always liked pink,” Moody replied, eyeing the perkiness of the prairie roses. He listened distractedly as the florist gushed over the quality of the flowers and produced a healthy bouquet from the display. Without much thought, he produced some coins and nodded to Mr. Fairbanks, who was clearly not ready to end such a riveting conversation, and uttered a brief apology and thanks in the same breath as he turned to leave the shop.

As he hastened away from the center of town, he looked down at the flowers in his fist and couldn’t help but smile a little. They truly did remind him of Ruby. Hopefully they truly did possess the healing powers Mr. Fairbanks had mentioned.

To say that Mrs. Ruby Spurgeon had been tired was an understatement. Since entering her sixth month of pregnancy, she had become rather withdrawn, devoid of any energy at all. While good-intentioned neighbors insisted that weariness was a common side-effect for any expecting woman, Moody couldn’t help but be concerned. She seemed almost sad, listless, so unlike the Ruby he knew. It wasn’t fair to assume her condition was normal, not if she felt so awful.

“I’m putting my faith in you, okay?” Moody murmured towards the petals. He immediately shook his head in disbelief that he was talking to flowers now. But he really would talk to plants all day if it meant Ruby would feel more like herself.

He soon approached their home, feeling a looming sense of dread as he took in the dark shutters. Maybe she was visiting a friend or running a quick errand?

He opened the front door slowly, peeking into the kitchen. A pie sat on the table, but there was no heat from the oven or wafting steam; the pie had been there a while.

“Ruby?” Moody called tentatively, afraid to wake her should she be sleeping. He wandered the downstairs, finding no other relics indicating the presence of his wife, and made his way upstairs to their quarters. He peeked into their bedroom and stifled a sigh of relief: Ruby dozed underneath a light blanket, her light curls sprawled unceremoniously over the pillow. Moody always found her so angelic, especially now that her face had rounded ever so slightly as her body prepared for the baby.

She stirred slightly upon his entrance, eyelashes fluttering in confusion.

“Moody?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly, taking a step back into the doorway. “I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep -”

“I’m afraid I’ve slept most of the day,” Ruby sighed. She stretched and began to sit up. Moody hurried forward to help her sit back against her pillows, placing the bouquet on her lap as he did so.

“I got these for you today,” he said unnecessarily, suddenly as nervous as he was back when they were courting. He felt rather foolish for not grabbing a vase; what did he expect her to do with them? To his horror, he looked back up to see tears in his wife’s eyes as she fiddled with the flowers.

“Are you alright?” He kneeled next to his wife, taking her pale white hand, noticing as always how his own hand dwarfed hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I can take them away.”

Ruby hiccuped and shook her head, her curls falling across her shoulders.

“I’ve been a terrible wife!”

“I - What?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Moody, you know it’s true!”

“Ruby -”

“All I do is mope around and cry and I can’t even cook dinner or do anything useful without falling asleep, honestly, I don’t know h-how you put up with me!”

Moody was silent for a moment as he gently took the flowers and set them on the bedside table. He pulled out a handkerchief and leaned forward to dab lightly at her cheeks. His heart clenched as she turned to look away from him, taking the handkerchief for herself to dry her swollen eyes. He let her compose herself for a moment, her sobs downgrading to shaky breaths. She really was so beautiful. He hated having to reassure her, but he knew what a tough time she was going through. He now placed his hand on her stomach, near the spot where he most frequently felt their child kick, and rubbed his thumb on the fabric of her dress.

“Ruby, look at me.”

Ruby shook her head again, but he saw her angle slightly and eye his hand.

“I don’t want you to ever think you’re less than perfect to me.”

She looked at him now, her lip still quivering slightly. Moody smiled reassuringly.

“You make me laugh everyday. You’re smart and mouthy and kind. And, as you know, you look really beautiful when you cry.”

Ruby laughed a little at this and shrugged. “What can I say?”

There she is.

“And, to top it all off, you’re carrying our baby.” As if on cue, the baby under his hand gave a slight kick of acknowledgment. “I know it’s hard on you. I can’t even imagine. I just want you to know that I’m g-grateful for what you do for our family to grow.”

They were both silent for a moment as the baby kicked lazily between them.

“You know I love the baby, right?”

Moody looked at his wife, surprised at her outburst. Before he could respond, she continued in earnest.

“I don’t know why I feel so down all the time, I truly don’t, I love our baby so much it hurts, I just can’t seem to find the energy, Moody, and I’m sorry -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” said Moody, “and you certainly don’t have to apologize for anything.” His poor, sweet wife. It broke his heart to know her concerns. Now if he could only keep her happy. He rubbed her stomach playfully. “This little lady certainly knows you love her.”

Her smile was breathtaking. “You think it’s a girl?”

“Oh, I know it’s a girl,” he laughed. “I can already tell she has an attitude.”

“She certainly has a mission, and that’s to keep me awake all night,” Ruby grumbled, but there was no real venom in her tone. Her eyes softened. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dear wife.” Moody leaned forward to kiss her reverently.

“I’m certainly glad I figured out how to get pregnant!”

Moody coughed and could feel his face flush as he thought back to their juvenile misunderstandings of biology. He cleared his throat, flushing again at the cheeky look from his wife. “It’s still light out. Could I convince you to sit out and get some sunshine?”

“Only if you play for me,” said Ruby as he helped her into a standing position.

Moody groaned, but Ruby was already going around the edge of the bed to where the case sat. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired of that old banjo?”

“Nope!” She lifted the case and pushed it into his arms. “You can play those three songs I like. And I can get down the stairs by myself, so don’t even try it.”