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“True crime or subversive comedy?” she asked, the remote in her hand.
“I’ve had enough murder and mayhem stories this week,” I said, thinking back to the marathon of shows Mallory had been binging on over the last week or two. “Let’s do the belly laughs.”
“Oh, the baby agrees,” she said, suddenly holding her stomach.
I grinned and put my hand over her belly, feeling the little one kick and wiggle inside.
“I think it’s more the pizza,” I said. “Pepperoni and pineapple, just like Daddy.”
“I swear,” she said, shaking her head. “I would have never put pineapple on pizza before I got pregnant. This is your fault. If I did this in front of Tamara, she would have a heart attack.”
“Good thing she’s not here right now,” I said. “When is she moving here again?”
“Approximately never,” she laughed. “But she will happily take the basement bedroom six weeks at a time if we will let her.”
“You know I don’t mind,” I said. “I want this house full to the brim with love and laughter. I get to have my friends in town all the time. If Tamara wants to come hang out, she can come as often as she wants.”
She smiled and leaned in for a kiss. I could taste the tomato sauce on her lips and suddenly wanted a slice myself.
Grabbing a piece of the pizza, I leaned back and settled in for the show. After I finished my food and beer, I slid until my head was in her lap and my ear pushed against her belly. She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair as we watched TV, laughing along with the show and me feeling my third baby kicking away happily.
I sighed.
This was better than anything I could have ever imagined. I knew it was a cliché, but it was true. Standing on the mound, staring down the best batters the majors could offer was nothing compared to lying on this couch in my wife’s lap, knowing that two of my children were happily asleep in their beds and the third was swimming around contentedly in Mallory’s stomach, occasionally kicking me.
I tried to remember the days of traveling around the country, playing baseball and not feeling complete. It had felt empty at times in a way that I’d never really understood. It didn’t make sense back then. I knew that I missed Mallory and wished that we could have found a way to stay in touch, to stay together, but I didn’t know what it was exactly that I was missing. Now I knew.
Mallory completed me in my soul. Not just as a wife but as a partner and as the other half of me. The two of us were creating a new generation of children who were going to go on and do great things. Owen was showing promise as an athlete already, but our little one was obsessed with painting with her mother. Who knew what our third child would be like?
I didn’t know, but I was excited to find out. I would be happy to spend the rest of my life with Mallory finding the ways our love had bloomed and affected our world.
I wouldn’t change this life for anything.
I fell asleep in her lap watching television, and when she woke me up an hour later, we shuffled off to our room to curl up together, my hand on her belly and her head on my chest. I drifted off to dreams of the rest of our lives together. I fell asleep with a smile.
The End
