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When I get to my daughter, she smells like she’s gone rancid, and I understand immediately why she woke up so darned early. “That’s how it’s going to be, is it,Schatzi?” I ask her as I take her to the changing station. I start unclasping the buttons in her footie pajamas when Sofia’s soft voice swims into Addy’s room.
“Since when do you change diapers?” she asks from her place leaning against the door frame, her legs crossed at the ankles.
“I’m her dad, aren’t I?” I say firmly like I’m not nervous at all about what’s about to go down.
When I finally wrangle her little chubby legs free, I realize there’s a second layer—another onesie. My nose scrunches up, and not just because of the smell. That’s odd. But then I peel the outer layer, and on the white fabric underneath, scribbled with child-like letters, reads: “Will you marry Mommy?”
My eyes widen, and my head snaps up to Sofia, who’s smirking, arms crossed in front of her. I raise an eyebrow at her.
“She gets the craziest ideas sometimes,” Sofia teases.
“You’re really proposing to me over a dirty diaper?”
She smirks. “It wasn’t exactly planned like that, but it’s rather poetic, don’t you think? You’ve always known how I feel about marriage,” she teases, and I drop my head back with laughter.
“Come here and tell me what to do,” I say, annoyed.
The trick, I learn, is to wipe backward. Always backward. Never forward. This particular instruction was drilled into my brain over and over. I had no idea this was so important for a girl. I shiver when Sofia explains the reason why.
With a clean baby in my arms, dosing off again against my chest, I whisper, “Sweet dreams,Schatzi.”
Sofia blinks up at me, and also whispering, asks, “She’s ‘schatzi’ too?”
I nod and she smiles at me. “Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” she asks.
I smirk at her. “Do you want to know?”
Her eyes narrow. “You want me to ask, don’t you?”
“Not if you don’t want to know what it means.” I play it off as if disinterested.
Sofia rolls her eyes. “Fine, Bren. What does your pet name for me and Addy mean?”
I look between them both with the biggest smile. When I answer, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. “Schatzmeans my treasure.Schatziis the diminutive. You are each my treasures, and I will protect you both with my life.”
Sofia’s hand flies to her chest, and her eyes well with tears, so I change the subject.
“What was that?” I ask. “With the onesie?”
“Do you want to marry me?” she asks, a smile spreading on her lips.
“You’d be willing to do that?” I ask.
Sofia nods. “I meant what I said last night, Bren. I love you. If that’s what you need, yes. I’d be willing to do it.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. “I love you for saying that, but no. I won’t marry you.”
She smiles wider, and I return the grin. “I don’t need the marriage as much as I thought I did. I love you because you’re you—because you’re free. I realize now that trying to change you would be my biggest crime in this life.”
“But it’s okay for me to change you?” she asks, a little sad now.
“I’ve changed, yes. My love for you and Addy has changed me. But you didn’t force it on me. I’m just so damned happy to have you both in my life.”
“And you’re sure that’s enough?”
I nod. “Move in with me. Be my partner. Let’s start a life.”
“That’s what I want,” she says.
