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“Amalia,” Georg says, as he enters his bedroom to find his wife trying to put on her work clothes. “Go back to bed, you aren’t feeling well.”
Amalia looked up from searching for her clothes to glare at him.
“I feel fine.” she says before going into a coughing fit. Once she composes herself, she grins sheepishly at her husband before starting to find her clothes again.
“Love,” he says, exasperatedly, as he watches her trying to find her shoes. “Please go to bed, I don’t want you to get any more sick than you alre-“
“Where’s my shoe Georg?” Amalia says as she cuts him off, still trying to find her shoe. “All of my right shoes are missing.
It is now Georg’s turn to grin bashfully as Amalia suddenly turns around and glares at him, her arms at her waist.
“Well love, I may or may not have foreseen this happening,” he says, as a matter-of-factly, as he stands up straighter to meet his wife’s glare. “So I may or may not have hidden all of your shoes to prevent you from going to work today.”
He sees Amalia’s face contort from confusion to realization to anger in a matter of seconds. It takes another second before she lunges at him.
While in Amalia’s head the lunging would have worked, she had forgotten how big of a man Georg was. Instead of him falling to the floor, he stood his ground and picked her up like she was a rag doll.
“Ah, doesn’t this bring back memories, love?” he says with a laugh as he carries her across the room to their bed.
“Yes,” Amalia grumbled. “I didn’t like you then and I don’t like you very much right now either.”
Georg laughed good-naturedly which made Amalia smile a little to herself. She always liked it when he laughed.
Georg tossed her back on to their bed, took off her shoe and gave her a fresh pair of pajamas.
“I will fix you some soup while you get dressed.” He says with a pointed look, as if to say that if she were to try and do anything else, there would be consequences.
Amalia knows that she has already played with Georg’s patience and that she would be better off if she were to just stay home. She sighs and starts to put on her pajamas again.
When Georg comes back, with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea on a tray, Amalia was in her pajamas and sitting up in bed. He smiles with relief and sets the tray on the sidetable. He starts to fix her pillows and tuck the blanket around her legs.
“Alright,” Georg says, still smiling to himself, as he sets the tray on her lap. “I’ll close the shop early so I can come back as soon as I can.” He bends down, plants a kiss on her forehead and is about to pull away when Amalia grabs ahold of his hand.
“Bring home some ice cream,” she says looking up at him. “Oh, and tell mother that I am fine and that you are being a good nursemaid.”
“Of course, dear,” he says with a nod, he walks to the door but stops midway and turns around to say “Feel better.”
“I will,” she says with an exasperated smile. “I love you.”
He smiles at her and nods his head at her.
“I love you too.”
“Georg, go back to bed,” Amalia says sternly, when she comes back to their bedroom, clad with a bowl of soup, to find her husband putting on his work suit. “You’re sick.”
He looks at her with a glare and says “Because you made me sick.”
She glares back and sets the bowl on the sidetable.
“I didn’t make you sick,” she reminds him, still glaring. “You were the one that decided that it was alright to kiss me when I was sick.”
He looks up from searching for his shoes and seems like he is at a loss for words. He shakes his head and continues to try and find his shoes.
“You aren’t going to find your shoes, love.” Amalia says, as she sits down on their bed and starts picking up tissues that are littered on the bed.
Georg looks up at her and raises his eyebrows, “And why won’t I find them, Amalia?”
She smiles mischievously as she starts talking in a terrible impersonation of him.
“You see Georg, I may or may not have foreseen this happening,” Amalia says in a voice an octave deeper than her regular one, while putting her hands on her waist. “So I may or may not have hidden all of your left shoes to prevent you from going to work.”
She finishes with a smile and pats the part of the bed beside her. Georg sighs and goes to sit beside her. He lays his head on her lap and she starts stroking his hair.
“Don’t worry,” she says reassuringly. “I’ll open the store for you and I’ll bring you home some ice cream.” She places a kiss in his hair and she feels him sink onto the bed in contentment.
“Alright.” He says as he starts to drift off to sleep. “I love you.”
“Love you too, dear.” Amalia says as she moves him very carefully on to his pillow and tucks him in.
“Amalia, no.” Georg says as she tries to button up her blouse, having trouble because of her swollen stomach.
“Georg, I’m pregnant,” she says stubbornly, still trying to button her shirt. “I’m not sick.”
“Love, you were vomiting the entire morning,” he says, trying to move her back to bed. “Please stay home.”
“That’s just morning sickness, Georg,” she says looking up at him. “I’m fine now.”
“I still don’t think it’s wise for you to go to work.” Georg says sincerely. “You’re not just resting for one, it’s for two now. Please, Amalia.”
Amalia sighs, finally giving up on the blouse, and puts on her nightgown. Georg smiles in relief and helps lead her to their bed.
“You alright?” he asks to her as he tucks her in. Amalia sighs and nods, her hand moves to rest on her stomach.
“I’m fine,” she says reassuringly. She then adds “Your son is too.”
“We aren’t even sure if he is a he yet,” he says, smiling. “But I am pleased to know that you’re both alright.”
She rolls her eyes but leans up to give him a kiss. It’s short but sweet and Georg gives her another smile.
“I’ll bring you both some ice cream when I come home,” he says as he starts to put on his coat and hat. “I love you both.”
She returns his smile and pats her stomach.
“We love you too.”