| |
Two Years Later
I'M STANDING IN FRONT of the window of the lingerie shop and it's now or never.
Beetlejuice, better known as Bethany, our fifteen-month-old, is snoozing in her stroller. I could never bring her in there when she's awake. She's an escape artist, and it's because of her that I can't have nice things.
Except that she's the best, nicest thing that ever happened to her daddy and me.
I push the stroller into the store and try to take in everything at once. I don't know how long my window of opportunity is before the little monster wakes up, so I need to shop fast if I want to surprise Graden.
A slender woman approaches and then we both smile when we recognize each other. Leslie. She gives me a hug and tells me my baby looks sweet.
"All babies look sweet when they're asleep," I tell her.
"Are you okay? You look a little..." She's searching for a word that means tired and worn-out, but one that wouldn't offend me.
"I'm exhausted. You can say it."
Leslie tsked. "Seems like Graden is the kind of guy who would help you out more."
"How do you know I ended up with Graden?" I ask.
She picks up my left hand. "I helped him pick out this ring to surprise you."
What? "The day we were here together?"
She nods. "Yeah, he called me. Asked me to pick out five rings and I sent him pictures from my phone. My friend at the jeweler across the way held them, and two days later he ran down here while you were in the bathroom to buy it."
"Wow. I had no idea. I remember wondering how he'd managed to get it." My heart bloomed and my face heated.
"Still a blushing bride, I see."
"He takes good care of me still. Of us. It's not his fault I'm tired." I pause. "Actually, it is his fault. I'm telling him tonight that I'm pregnant again. I was hoping to wear something with no spit-up on it. And maybe a little forgiving of some of my newer curves."
Leslie hugs me again and helps me pick out the perfect nightgown. We exchange numbers so I can invite her to the baby shower, and when Bethany wakes up, we're already halfway to the car.
I just hope that Graden is okay with this. We haven't talked about having another baby—this one is more than a handful and runs us both ragged. I know he'll love another child—but will he be excited about one?
––––––––
I TAKE A QUICK, HOT shower after finally getting the baby to sleep. I don't know how my wife handles her alone all day long. She says she wants to be a stay-at-home mom for now, but man, Bethany has to be more work than a classroom full of kindergarteners.
I come out of the bathroom to find my wife dressed in a hot little turquoise nightie that gets me instantly hard. Until I see she's passed out.
I get her tucked in, removing all the decorative pillows she insists we need on the bed every day, when I see what looks like a flat pen tucked under one.
Holy shit. It's a pregnancy test.
I'm sure she meant to present it to me while...conscious. But I can't wait until morning, so I look.
It's positive.
Holy shit.
Is she happy? Excited? Resigned? I don't want to wake her up since she obviously needs all the sleep she can get.
Am I happy?
Her last pregnancy crosses my mind. The way she waddled. Her cravings. The feel of the baby kicking my hand. Holding Bethany for the first time.
Yeah. Yeah, I'm fucking stoked.
I can't believe I'm the same guy who didn't want a family. Or a wife. Or even a home. My girls are everything to me now. Life is crazy most of the time. But it's good crazy. It's damn good crazy.
My childhood was a mess—but that just means I try harder. Give my kid the stability I never had. Give my wife the love my mom was always looking for but was too drugged out to ever find.
I spoon around my wife and put my hand on her belly where our baby grows.
"I'll keep my promise, Cameron," I whisper, in case he's listening. "I'll take care of your baby sister until my last breath.