The doorbell startled her into jumping up, and swearing as the muscles in her abdomen protested. She made her way more slowly to the door, hoping it wasn't anyone important. She had begun wearing a comfortable multi-coloured caftan since her surgery and her hair was swinging around her shoulders, free. Her feet were bare. Pulling the door open, she gasped, and then smiled broadly. "McKinnon. Hi! Come on in." Stepping aside, she held the door as he struggled to the table, trying not to drop anything.
Shoving the flowers at her, he asked abruptly, "Charly, why the hell didn't you call me? Never mind. I shouldn't even ask." Groaning, he pulled her into his arms, his mouth gentle and warm on hers. Kissing her thoroughly, he stepped back and let her go.
"Better put those flowers in water. I think maybe we crushed them a little." Sheepishly, he tried to straighten them.
"We? What do you mean we, McKinnon?" Laughing, she went out to the kitchen and filled a vase. She had trouble keeping her emotions under control, she was so happy to see him.
When she returned, McKinnon was standing again, the teddy bear held in his hands, a silly grin on his face. "I think I went a little crazy when I found out what you had been through, Charly. I wish someone had told me when it happened. Nothing would have kept me away." He walked towards her, holding the teddy bear out. "This is for you. I'm not even sure why I bought it. It just seemed the thing to do at the time."
"It was exactly the right thing to do. I've been collecting stuffed bears for years. I have boxes of them in my mother's basement. Maybe I'll bring them over and give them a place to sit in the spare room. After all, this guy would probably enjoy the company." Charly knew she was babbling again but couldn't help it. He was here with her at last.
"Come and sit down, Witch. I want to hear all about it. Was it really bad? If the jolt I had was any indication, you sure didn't have much fun." And he told her about being doubled up with pain the day of her surgery.
"Are you going to go into labour when I have a baby, too, McKinnon?" She teased him.
"I sure would if it was my baby. Oh, Charly, why did you have to bring up that subject? I can't keep my mind off of making love with you as it is. I like your dress, by the way." He was smiling at her, his legs stretched out in front of him, arms across the back of the sofa behind her. One hand was playing idly with her hair, though she thought he was unaware of it.