NATE AND BRIGID WERE FINISHING THEIR SUNDAY MORNING jog. Nate knew that this was one of those inexplicable make-sense moments that, no matter how long he might live, would never be forgotten.
It was autumn in New York, and Central Park was never more beautiful than it was at that time of year. New Yorkers were sharing one of those rare fall days with breathtakingly crisp air. Always in late October, the beautifully elegant leaves of the gingko trees go from green to gold and almost instantly fall to the ground, creating pathways of golden snow.
It was their favorite time of year. Brigid felt a special connection to the park and especially to this spot at the Bethesda Fountain, where they ended their run. They shared a few moments stretching and just soaking in that wonderful high that made the ten miles more than just a necessary inconvenience.
Central Park was more than a place. For Brigid it was a state of mind. Nate could never bring up the topic of Central Park without stating that this grand space, smack-dab in the middle of a great city, allows you to get away without actually being away.
They could hear the sound of the bells announcing the many Sunday services at the great churches and cathedrals that lined the perimeter of the park.
The events of the past several months left Nate and Brigid in very different places regarding their own spiritual journeys. Places that neither had ever expected to go.
Nate needed time away from the childhood security rooted in the religion of his youth. Brigid found that she was more open to spiritual things than she had ever thought she would be. Her blossoming friendship with Sister Miriam was not only an inspiration, but also a source of comfort and hope.
As Nate got up from the concrete bench that circles the fountain, Brigid gripped his hand and pulled him back toward her. Brushing his hair back with her fingers, she gently kissed him on the lips and whispered in his ear, “We’re pregnant.”