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“You’re gonna have to watch that potty mouth when our daughter comes.”
“Not a chance.”
I’m in the shower after dinner when the first contraction happens. “Whoa.”
I’m hunched over, gripping the shower wall when the second one comes. “Maddox!”
Nothing. If he’s downstairs, he might not have heard me. I manage to get out of the tub and throw a T-shirt on before I’m hit with the next one. “Maddox!”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He comes barreling into the room.
“I think it’s baby time.” My cool and calm demeanor is gone.
I watch him panic, running around the room, throwing things in a bag. It’s pretty typical that we aren’t prepared in the slightest for a baby to come.
* * *
“I can’t fucking stand you,”I find myself screaming a few hours later.
“I’ve heard that a time or two.” He chuckles and I glare in his direction. He’s got some nerve laughing at a time like this.
After what feels like an eternity, I’ve pushed a screaming baby into the world. When the nurse puts her in my arms, it almost feels like everything clicks.
This is our daughter. Our baby girl. I would kill anyone that hurt her. Anyone that touches her. This is obviously a feeling that Destiny never got when she gave birth.
“Wow. She’s beautiful. I can’t believe we did that.” He’s going to be such a woman about everything. I can see it now.
“She looks like you,” I say, looking up at him.
“I hope she grows out of that.”
It’s kind of surreal to be in this moment with him. There are many times that I’ve almost told him that I love him. I know without a doubt, that what I’m feeling right now is love, it’s just a shame that I’ll never be able to tell him that.
“What should we name her?” I ask him, hoping he has some kind of idea, because I definitely don’t.
“How about Hope?’ he suggests.
“Hope.” I look down at her, tears in my eyes. “I think that’s perfect.
* * *
A few weeks later,I’m in the rocking chair of the nursery, telling Hope all about how her daddy and I met.
“Belle, I know you’re not telling our infant daughter about all the people we’ve murdered.” He sighs, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
“It’s better to tell her now when she won’t remember.” I shrug. “You don’t like our love story?”
“I’d hardly call this a love story.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, you’ve never even told me you love me,” he points out.
“Fair enough. I thought when you found the one you could hear angels sing and you saw stars. You know, all that girly shit.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t think we’ll ever know.” I shrug. “Don’t be ashamed of your daddy and I, Hope. We have no idea what we’re doing. We’re just winging it over here.”
