Page 127 of Changing Lanes

The boys all look to me with identical expressions but all I can do is nod. Yes, my boyfriend has lost his mind. What other possible explanation could there be for him pretending a fake baby is real and next to our mother of all places?

Despite Beckett blowing raspberries at a dolly and making me genuinely concerned for his mental health, my family feels complete in this moment. More than it has in years. Even with how happy I was to get all of us Christensens together, it still felt like a piece was missing. A piece of me.

But he’s here now and that feeling is gone.

I glance around the table, at each face occupying it, and grin as my chest fills with solid warmth.

“Hey, Beckett? What are you doing?” I ask around a smirk.

My overly tall, yet boyishly handsome boyfriend just winks over at me before turning to my mom, telling her, “I came to eat lunch with my girl over there.” Motioning his chin at me, I can only smile warmly when my mother meets my gaze. “Do you mind helping me out by taking over for a little bit?”

Before she can even fully answer, he places the baby doll in her arms, sits back down, and looks at her with a hopefulness I’m all too familiar with.

Shit.

Getting to my feet, Jesse puts his hand up to stop me and I drop back down.

Every single one of my brothers and I are fully captivated, rooted in our spots, witnessing our mother break into the first smile she’s given all day. And it’s directed at the tiny bundle she’s now cuddling.

Helplessly mesmerized, we all watch on as she pushes the baby’s crazy locks away from the face and beams down at the doll with pure delight.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Her glistening gaze lands back on Beckett before quickly returning to the baby.

Gently, Beckett says, “It’s her eyes. They get me every time.”

When I turn to him though, he’s not looking anywhere near my mother, he’s staring right at me.

A few blinks and a giggle, an actual fucking giggle, and my mom replies, “I can see why. She reminds me of my little girl. Not my boys though. Oh, they were good-looking, too, but nothing like her. She could quiet a room with those eyes.”

My hand flies to my mouth as I hear one of the boys suck in their breath but I’m not sure which one because I can’t tear my eyes away from our mother as she bounces the wad of blankets that harbors a memory none of us could evoke in our hour together.

Beckett encourages her to continue, his comforting voice blending with hers to glaze over the cracks in our family, sealing them from the outside in, while helping us to latch onto the smallest of details from our past.

Other residents join in the excitement and soon there’s a whole melee of long forgotten memories being shared. Whether they’re real or not I’m not completely sure but it feels like actual progress. More than I’ve encountered since working at Sunbrook.

I glimpse several wet eyelashes around the room and know I’m not the only one thinking the same thing. Could this be a new form of therapy? Could it help long term?

Sneaky Hope creeps back in, wanting a spot at the table, too, and this time I let her for a change, instead of cursing her stubborn existence in my life.

“Why don’t you hang on to that one for me?”

Too focused on the scene in front of me, I miss Beckett standing at my side until his hand falls on my shoulder, turning me to face him.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he says to my mother, “I’ve got my own to look forward to anyway.”

He can’t know. Not yet. I barely know.

Much quieter, he rasps out, “I read this article online about the happiness babies bring to Alzheimer’s patients and how sometimes they can spark recognition when everything else fails. I thought it was worth a try today with all of you here.” Gesturing to my brothers who have now tuned into our conversation as well, he continues, “I figured even if it didn’t work, it’d still be good practice for me. For us.”

Guiding me out of my seat, Beckett wraps his impossibly long arms around my back, gazing down at me through shimmery pools of his own.

New tears meet up with my earlier ones and they all fall down my face freely as his Adam’s apple bobs a couple times.

“Funny thing is you can find a lot online if you know what to search for. Like symptoms your girlfriend is experiencing who just so happened to miss her period.” A hiccup escapes my trembling lips. “You made my dreams come true the day you walked into my life and you’ve been chasing out the bad ever since, but I’d gladly live through nightmares for the rest of my life if you’ll grant me another wish.”

Somehow, through another round of sobs, I manage an incredulous laugh, asking, “What’s that?”

Beckett drops to his knees, both knees, and clasps my hips tenderly, bringing his face in line with my newly occupied belly. “That our daughter will look just like you. Your hair, your eyes. I want a baby Dream running around our new home.”

A hand in his hair, I tilt his head back, locked onto his blue eyes, misty like ocean spray on a sunny day.

As soon as the ground thawed enough to start construction on the property Beckett purchased near Coty and Angela, he got a crew out there to start work on the design Coty helped us sketch up for the house we’ll be moving into later this year. I didn’t think we’d be filling one of those spare rooms we spoke about this soon though. We’ve been careful. Except when we weren’t.

“And if it’s a boy?” I ask, my voice shaking as bad as my hands.

Yesterday, I snuck off to the doctor to confirm what the at-home test had already showed—that I was, in fact, pregnant. I was planning to tell him tonight but he beat me to it by doing what he always does, by paying attention. Only a few weeks along, there’s no way for either of us to know what the gender is yet but that won’t stop Beckett from trying to bend the situation to his every whim with his sheer determination alone.

“Even better.” His lips pull into a smile and he stands, cupping the back of my head with a hand to plant a kiss to both corners of my mouth. “Then when his sister does come along he’ll get to look out for her the way your brothers did for you,” he nods over to my four brothers, “and he’ll love her the same way my brothers chose to care about me.” He nods over my shoulder and I turn my head to see Coty, Marc, and Angela standing in the doorway to the lunchroom and release a watery laugh. With smiles on their faces, they watch on just like the rest of my family. Our family.

Harmonic convergence.