“I’d have to kill him, naturally, and then beg for you to take me back.”
“You’re the only man I’ll ever want, Kolya. I can promise you that.”
“Then don’t ever forget that I feel the exact same way about you. Now,” I say, taking a small box from pocket, “stop trying to sidetrack me. I have one more present to give you.” I pause and then add. “Today. One more today.”
“You’re terrible,” she says with a laugh, but I can see the way she’s eyeing the box. She may not be used to being spoiled, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t growing to love it.
“You know I’m not religious, but in Russia we wear our wedding rings on the right hand because of the Russian Orthodox Church, so I got you this to wear on your other ring finger. That way no matter where we go, other men will know you’re taken,” I can’t help but add with a laugh.
I open the box, showing her the traditional Russian wedding band of three interlocking rings. “One is yellow gold, one is white, and the other is rose. They represent fidelity, friendship, and love, and I promise you all three. I will always be faithful to you, I will be the best friend I can possibly be, and you will always have my heart and all of my love. You’re my whole world, Moira, and you make every single part of my life better.”
Tears run down her cheeks as she holds her right hand out for me to slip the ring on. “It’s beautiful, Kolya. I promise I’ll always wear it.” She grabs onto my hand and says, “But what about you? I don’t want some Russian woman hitting on you because she thinks you’re single.”
I laugh and pull out a platinum band from my pocket, identical to the one I’m now wearing on my left hand. She smiles and grabs it from me, sliding it onto my ring finger. “Now the whole world knows you’re mine,” she says, making me smile and feel more loved than I ever have in my life.
When it starts to snow, I wrap my arms even tighter around my wife, knowing this is the best moment of my life. I didn’t think it could possibly get any better, but three months later, we’re sitting back in Doctor Reed’s exam room as she rolls the wand across Moira’s rounded belly. I squeeze Moira’s hand and give it a kiss when our baby’s strong, fast heartbeat fills the room. Her green eyes light up at the sound of it. We watch the screen, seeing our baby, and even though it’s hard to understand everything I’m seeing, I still think our baby is the most beautiful little thing I’ve ever seen.
“Would you like to know the sex?” Doctor Reed asks, smiling at the both of us.
I look to Moira who quickly shakes her head yes. I’m just as eager to know what we’re having, and when Doctor Reed says, “It’s a girl,” we both smile at each other like we’ve just been handed the world’s greatest gift.
“A little girl,” I repeat, watching our daughter on the small screen and seeing her in a whole new way. She’s no longer this mystery baby that’s been growing slowly inside Moira; she’s our baby girl, and I’m so damn eager to hold her and see her for the first time. When I meet Moira’s eyes, they’re glassy with tears. I cup her face and kiss her.
“Are you happy?” she asks, searching my face. “Are you disappointed it’s not a son?”
“Are you kidding? I’m so happy to have a daughter.” I laugh and add, “She’s going to be a total daddy’s girl, and she’s going to be strong and beautiful just like her mom. She’s also going to be tough as hell because she’s definitely learning how to box so she can protect herself from all the boys that I’m going to try my best to not kill.”
Moira laughs and kisses me. “She’s so lucky to have a father like you.”
“We’re going to be the parents we both wish we’d had,” I promise her.
After that visit, we hit the nursery hard. Now that we know it’s a girl, we both go a bit overboard on the pink. It’s possible she’ll hate the color when she gets older, and we’ve only ourselves to blame for that, but she can decorate her room however she wants later. For now, she’s getting pink and a ton of it.
Nine months of pregnancy seems so short but also feels like a lifetime. The last months fly by as spring turns to summer and I watch my wife’s stomach grow bigger and bigger until we’re down to the last few days, and I’m on constant high alert. Every little noise she makes has my heart racing and my body ready to grab the bag that’s been packed for weeks and help her get to the car.
“I’m okay,” she says, rubbing her belly. “She’s just kicking really hard tonight.”
I lean down and kiss her pregnant belly. “Be nice to your mommy,” I whisper to our daughter. Moira laughs and runs her hand through my hair before wincing again.
“And so it begins,” she says with a laugh. “She’s already ignoring you.”
“She would never,” I say with mock horror.
“Uh-huh, I’m sure she’ll be a perfect angel during those wonderful teenage years.”
“Of course she will be.”
I give Moira’s stomach another kiss and sit back so I can pull her closer to me. She settles in and turns on one of her favorite movies, another ‘80s comedy, of course, and I’m just beginning to relax when I feel her whole body stiffen.
“Kolya,” she moans, grabbing onto her stomach. “I think it might be happening.”
I’ve been waiting for her to say those words, preparing myself on how to react and best take care of her, but actually hearing her say them has my entire body frozen in fear. She looks up at me, her green eyes wide with fear, and there’s so much trust and love in them, like she doesn’t doubt for a second that I’ll take care of her. That look is the kick in the ass I need. I cup her face and kiss her forehead.
“It’s going to be okay. Stay here while I get your bag.”
“Okay,” she whispers, her voice shaky from fear and pain. “Don’t be long.”
“I’ll be right back. I promise.”