“For what?”
“For loving us.”
I laugh. “Baby, loving you is the easy part. It was getting you to love me back I had the issue with. I should be the one thanking you.” She swats my chest playfully. We watch as Paisley opens her gift. It’s a bracelet of some sort, and I’m just about to ask when Dad explains.
“It has her name on it.”
“Paisley Gray Monroe,” my daughter reads the words aloud. “Thank you, Grandma.” She launches herself at my mother, and I can see the tears in her eyes from where I’m standing. Mom catches my eyes from across the room and smiles. I know what that smile means. Paisley is me, and my mom is Larissa. She knows what it meant to us and in turn how much it means to my girls.
Larissa turns in my arms and looks up at me. Her smile is blinding as unshed tears fill her eyes. She laughs softly as she wipes away an errant tear. “You got a minute?” she asks me.
“For you, I have a lifetime.” Lacing my fingers with hers, I allow her to pull me out on the back deck. “I used to worry,” she says once the door is shut behind us and she’s back in my arms, her back to my front as we look out over the landscape. “I used to constantly worry and never felt settled. That changed when I met you.”
I kiss the top of her head. I’ve seen the change in her; it’s nothing she has to tell me.
“I think he brought you to us. He knew that it would take an amazing man, one full of love and patience and understanding to break through my walls. I like to believe that he picked you for us. That he knew you would be the father she needed, the partner I needed.”
“I like the sound of that.” It’s hard to think about everything she lost and my heart aches for her, but then we wouldn’t be where we are today. I like to think that everything happens for a reason. We might not know what those reasons are at the time, but we have to have faith that everything works out as it should.
“The last time I had this conversation, the day started out great and ended not so much. This time, I can feel it in my gut that it’s different. I’m not worried.”
“Babe, you’ve lost me,” I tell her. I have no clue what she’s talking about.
She turns in my arms and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I have a secret,” she whispers.
“I’m your husband. We don’t have secrets.”
“This time we do.” She grins.
“Larissa,” I warn. I hate not being involved in every aspect of their lives. I never want to miss a minute. It’s hard enough being away from them during the season.
Grabbing her phone out of her back pocket, she taps the screen a few times, then turns it to face me. “I got you something,” she says softly.
My eyes focus on the screen, and it takes me a minute to realize what I’m looking at. “Is that?”
“You’re going to be a daddy, again,” she adds.
My hands grip her hips, pulling her impossibly close. “We’re pregnant?”
“We are. We’re in the first trimester.”
“I don’t know what that means? Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Have you been sick? Why didn’t you tell me?” I fire off questions faster than she can answer them. Something that happens a lot between the two of us.
“It means I’m about seven weeks, just under two months along. I’ve not been sick, a little nauseous, but nothing otherwise. I was waiting for the right time to tell you. When we got our court date, I decided to wait. I wanted you to be here with your family when you found out.”
“You’re my family.” I place my hand on her belly. “All three of you. We’re having a baby,” I say, pressing my lips to hers. “I love you, Larissa Monroe.”
“I love you too, Easton Monroe.”
I hear the door open behind us, and then my daughter says, “They do this all the time,” causing everyone to laugh.
“Come here, princess,” I say, and she doesn’t hesitate to rush toward me. I step away from Larissa just in time to catch her in my arms. I reach for Larissa’s hand, and we walk back inside. “Can I have your attention,” I say to the room. It’s packed full of family all here for us. “We have one more surprise for P, all of you, really,” I admit.
Mom gasps and covers her mouth with her hands. Dad puts his arm around her, pulling her close. My eyes dance around the room, watching my little sister, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, and cousins, all of them smiling as if they know our secret. I turn to Larissa. “Did you tell them?” I whisper.
She shakes her head, too choked up with emotion to speak.
“Paisley,” I focus on my daughter, “today is a really special day,” I tell her.