Michael – Thirty-Eight Weeks
Charlotte waddles into the lounge. And it's a slow waddle. Her feet drag and her breathing's heavy, her face flushed.
I stand, offering my arm to help her sit. "You okay, Babe?"
"I suppose." She reaches around herself, trying to rub at the small of her back. "I'm so tired all the time. And so hot..."
Just as well it's winter...
"... And my back's hurting." She's drooping almost as I watch.
I follow her hand with mine to the base of her spine, feeling for the pressure-point; where she's tense. "Why don't I give you a massage? Let's see if we can ease this up for you a bit."
"That would be nice."
I slide my arm under hers, trying to help her back up again. She heaves upwards, then drops back. So instead, I stand, this time giving her both hands to haul he
