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“I know, I know. But when it comes to the baby–”
“Just tell me! What happened at work?”
“Right, right. Well. My project got the final sign off. We’re producing a prototype starting next month.”
I leap into the air. “Drew! How did you keep that in for so long?”
“I told you, I–”
I throw my arms around his neck and pull my lips into his, an eager congratulatory kiss. “That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Stop that. It’s something. It’s everything.”
“Not compared to what you’re doing.”
I start to step away, rolling my eyes. “Would you quit it with the–”
Drew grabs my hand and pulls me back just in time that I narrowly avoid a squall of rollerbladers. I spin right back into his chest. He locks his arms around my waist. “No, I won’t quit it. What you’re doing right now is the height of human accomplishment. You’re growing a whole fucking human being!”
“With your help, let’s not forget.”
“Yeah, but a night in bed four months ago is nothing compared to–”
“You know something?” I say, cutting him short.
His forehead screws together, resetting. “What?”
“You should never have been scared to be a dad.”
His eyes, two blue pools, widen. “Oh.”
“Because you…” I run my hands up and down his biceps. The arms that will hold our baby, comfort them, tuck them into bed, never let them go. “You were made for it, D.”
If it’s possible, his eyes widen more. “Don’t make me cryagain.” He already lost it once more when he looked at the ultrasound pictures, as if he hadn’t just seen the live rendering of our baby.
“See! This is what I mean. Literally made to be a dad. You’ve got ‘dad’ written all over you from your flannel to your beard.”
“What’s dad-like about my beard?!”
I throw my head back in laughter and pull on his hand. “Come on, let’s go see if we can sit down early. I’m starving.”
* * *
When we walkinto the restaurant, I immediately know something is off. It’s…empty. And not just “we’re eating at five o’clock because I’m pregnant and starving” empty.
We’re theonlypeople here.
And everything is immaculate from the flower petals on the table to the light streaming in through the gauzy curtains.
“This is beautiful,” I say softly.
Drew leads me by the hand to the table where we are then greeted by a server who pours us water and gives us the first course of our meal, glistening bruschetta with buxom tomatoes. I dive in before he’s even a step away, starving, not even questioning that the food is already coming out and I haven’t ordered anything.
“If we aren’t going to find out the gender, we need to pick out names for both, huh?”
“S’pose so,” I reply, mouth full.
