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“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Leading her up the staircase, I told her to close her eyes when we got to the landing. She obeyed, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as she let me guide her by the shoulders down the hallway. When we reached the nursery, I opened the door and lifted her hands off her eyes.
She gasped. “Oh my God, Nathaniel, it’s beautiful!” She walked right in, running her hands over the blonde wood crib, the changing table, looking inside the matching baby dresser and peeking into the closet. “Did you put all this furniture together yourself?”
“I’m a DIY man, now. I even did the mural by hand.” It was a light blue background, with gauzy white clouds brushed on top in a scattered pattern. Amelia’s jaw dropped.
“You painted a whole room like the sky for our baby,” she said softly, turning to face me. “It’s amazing, Nathaniel. Doing it all by hand without hiring someone makes it even more precious to me. I can’t thank you enough.”
I shrugged, relieved to know that she was happy with it. “I just want the baby to have a home here. Someplace made with love.”
“Our baby is so lucky to have you for a daddy,” she said, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me with eager lips, her fingers threading through my hair and her slender, supple body pressed to mine. I leaned into her, running my hands down along her ribcage, her waist, her hips, squeezing lightly. Amelia wriggled against me, telling me with her body what she wanted.
“Not so fast, ma’am,” I teased, pulling away. “I know you’re insatiable, but let’s get some supper in you first.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that all?”
“The rest is up for negotiation.”
– – –
I had never seen a bowl of chili disappear so quickly.
“This is,” she took an emergency sip of milk to counteract the spice, “the best chili I’ve ever had.”
“There’s plenty more.” I had been smiling nonstop ever since we sat down at the kitchen table. Having Amelia there, looking so at home, made my chest full with warm notions of family that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since my parents died.
“I might have to save room for a late-night snack,” Amelia said, eyeing the extra cornbread. She sighed, smoothing the napkin on her lap. “I love the nursery, Nathaniel. It’s adorable, beyond my wildest dreams, and you thought ofeverything. It must have been so much work! How did you figure it all out in such a short time?”
“All I had to do was imagine what you would like. I know your taste, it’s very–”
“Refined?” She winked.
My lips curled into a sideways smile. “I was going to say–”
“Mature?” She slid her sock-clad foot to my ankle and started inching it up my pant leg playfully.
“Amelia, don’t make me–”
“Seasoned?”
I grabbed her foot and tickled the sole. “Are you calling me old?”
“No!” She giggled.
“Are you sure about that?” I kept up the tickling.
“Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure!” she howled. Yanking her foot back, she stood up and stepped over to my side of the table before confiscating my napkin from my lap and replacing it with herself. I folded my arms around her back, holding her in place, happy to have her in my embrace.
“You’re beautiful when you laugh,” I said, unable to stop myself from feeling sentimental. “You look good in here. In this house.”
“It’s a dream come true being here with you,” she said, her voice tender. “Knowing we’ll have years and years of family dinners ahead of us.”
I pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose. “Laughing and tickling optional.”
“Pending negotiations.”
