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I glance at the clock as I peek into the oven to check on dinner. I still have at least an hour until Mira and Noah are home and I smile as I turn to get started on our dessert for tonight.
The front door opens, and I freeze, frowning in confusion until I hear Mira call out for me.
“Townes, can you give me a hand?”
I head down the hall to greet her, and my steps quicken when I see Noah looking miserable, standing in all of his winter gear.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I ask him as I kneel to help him take his jacket and boots off.
“He threw up at the bookstore,” Mira tells me, and I look up, noticing that she looks a little pale, too.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her as I put his boots and coat away.
“A little nauseous,” she admits, and I move to help her take her coat off.
“I’ll get Noah. Why don’t you go lay down,” I encourage her, and she nods, trudging upstairs.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask my son, and he shakes his head.
“Okay, buddy, let’s get you into the bath and then we’ll see how you’re feeling.”
He holds his hands up, and I pick him up and carry him upstairs and into the bathroom. I set him next to the tub as I bend over and get his bath ready. The water starts to fill up the tub, and I pull off Noah’s clothes.
His eyes are drooping already, and I know he probably just ate something that didn’t agree with him and just needs rest. I hurry to clean him up and get him into clean pajamas. I tuck him in, and he’s out before I’m even out of his room.
I pull the door closed a bit, and that’s when I hear Mira throwing up in our bathroom. I run into our room and then into the bathroom.
Mira is bent over the toilet, throwing up, and I rush to gather her hair and pull it out of the way. I rub her back as she throws up again.
“I can run to the store and grab Gatorade or Saltines,” I offer, and she wipes her mouth and flushes the toilet. “I didn’t hear about any bug going around town.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she says, leaning back against the wall.
“You’re not. What do you need, Mira?” I ask her, crouching to look her in the eye.
“Help me stand up,” she says, and I grab her hand and pull her to her feet.
I help her over to the bed, and she reaches into her bedside drawer and pulls out a box.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she tells me, and I frown.
“Mira, we can do gifts later. I need to run to the store for you before they close,” I argue, and she shakes her head.
“I’m fine. Open the box.”
“You’re not,” I snap, and she smiles.
“Open the box,” she says more firmly, and I sit down next to her and take the lid off the box.
I freeze when I see what’s inside.
“You’re pregnant?” I whisper, and when I turn to look at her, she’s grinning at me.
“Yeah. I found out yesterday morning. I have another Valentine’s Day gift for you, too, but it’s downstairs.”
“This is all that I need. You, Noah, and this little peanut,” I say, tears stinging the back of my eyes.
“I love you, Townes.”
