I’m waiting for him when I hear his voice from the hall. I don’t try to eavesdrop, but since the hall has mainly emptied for lunch it’s impossible not to hear him and the girl he’s talking to.
“So, do you want to work on the project at my house or yours?” the girl asks.
“Um . . .”
I can hear the hesitation in his voice clear as day. Is he worried Sarah and I would care if he had a friend over? I don’t want to interrupt his conversation, but . . . my thoughts scatter as he continues.
“Hang on. Let me check with Mr. Price.”
I do my best to look engrossed with the portrait in front of me.
“Hey, Mr. Price.” Logan pops his head in the door.
I glance up. “Hey, Logan.”
“Is it cool if Amber comes over one day during winter break to work on something for history?”
I shrug, wondering who Amber is and mentally trying to place the name. “Sure, as long as it’s cool with her folks.”
He grins. “Cool. Thanks, Mr. Price.”
Now I’m seriously wondering who Amber is. He turns, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he walks back to her.
“Let’s work on it at my house.”
My gut clenches. It’s the first time I’ve heard him refer to our house as ‘his.’ For a moment, the air in my throat catches as the importance of that slams into me with an almost physical force.
I avoid his eyes after he’s said bye to Amber and walks into my class. He drops his bag on the floor with a thud and slides into the chair closest to me which faces my desk. Once I’m certain my face won’t give away what his words meant to me, I look up at him. He’s still grinning.
I smirk. “So, tell me about Amber.”
If possible, his grin widens. “She’s this girl.”
I bet.
“Do I know her?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think she takes art. She’s in chorus.”
“What kind of project do you have to do?”
“We need to make a movie about life during the Civil War.”
“Just the two of you?”
He nods, still grinning. I pull the mini-cooler from under my desk and open it. Sarah made each of us sandwiches: turkey for me, ham for Logan. I lift his sandwich, wait for him to raise his hands and toss it to him. He catches it easily.
“So, do you know what you’ll do for the movie?”
He tries to talk around the mouthful he’s just taken but then holds up his hand and chews furiously before he starts again. “We’re going to be married, and she’s going to get all sad that I have to go off to war.”
“Married?” My right eyebrow lifts up.
“Yep,” Logan replies before inhaling more of his sandwich.
Sarah is going to love this.
Now, time to get down to gift business. “Logan, do you know how to skateboard?”
His head lifts and he shakes it. His expression is lost on me; I can’t tell if he’s interested or not.
“Want to learn how?”
“I tried before,” he starts. “When I was in elementary school. I sucked at keeping my balance.”
“Do you remember what kind of board you were on?”
He squints, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he tries to remember. “I think it had Spiderman on it.”
“There are these boards called long boards. They’re easier to keep your balance on, but they aren’t really for tricks, mainly cruising. Would you like to try something like that out?”
His eyes light up. “I know some guys who ride long boards.”
That’s answer enough for me.
After lunch, I text Sarah to let her know I’ll run out to get Logan’s gift later tonight. She replies with pictures of the stuff she picked up for Rascal and one of Rascal sitting on Santa’s lap.
That picture alone got me through the rest of my day. Once Logan and I got back to the house, I filled Sarah in on my plans and told her about Amber. She ate it up, excitement over meeting a girl Logan might like written all over her beautiful face. I made her promise not to grill Logan about Amber while I was gone. She pouted but gave in.
Not far from our place is a newer shopping mall and after kissing my girl senseless, I made my way over there to the board shop. Before I got my first car, I either rode my bike or skateboarded everywhere. I wasn’t serious about either; they were solely a method of transportation at the time. Working in a middle school, I’ve been able to absorb what things my kids are interested in.
Long boards are huge with the boys right now. Half of the time I assign something where the class can pick the subject to draw, paint, mosaic or stipple, I get thirty long board pictures turned in. When I decided to get Logan either a bike or a board, I Googled both to get an idea of the different types out there. The second Logan mentioned balance being an issue board-wise, I knew a long board was the way to go.
It’s both longer and wider than your standard board, so you can take a wider stance on it. Other than that, I was clueless so I let the kids at the board shop trick me out. I may have gone overboard, but it’s Logan’s first Christmas without his dad so I want to do whatever I can to make it easier on him. By the time I leave, I have a tricked-out board with a sick geometric design on the bottom, a helmet, plus a spare set of trucks, wheels and pads.
I load everything into the trunk of my Jetta and head home. Logan is in the kitchen with Sarah, telling her about his history project. I shoot her a look letting her know I’m on to her. She’s sneaky, getting Logan to talk about Amber by asking about the project instead of asking about Amber. She tries to look innocent and fails, a blush reddening her cheeks.
Luckily, Logan is oblivious so I stalk over to her and kiss her instead of calling her out. They’re making dinner together. Logan likes food, and not just eating it. Since he’s moved in with us, he’s helped both of us make dinner whenever he’s finished his homework in time to.
While he sets the table, I tell Sarah his gift is in my trunk and I’ll bring it in and sneak it up to our room once he’s gone to bed. Sarah’s in charge of wrapping presents. Whatever artistic talent I have fell short of that.
“So, how was Rascal with Santa?”
Sarah covers her mouth as she starts to laugh. “I had no idea Santa was going to be there, but once I saw him I had to get a picture of them.” She points to the picture now proudly hanging on our fridge. “Rascal was hysterical. She tried to chew on the fur above his boots. His elf gave me some treats to distract her long enough to get her away from him.”
“So, Rascal isn’t a fan of fur?” I laugh.
She nods. “PETA would be so proud.”
“Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of Christmas gifts being a surprise if you take the dog you’re shopping for with you?”
She waves me off. “Like she’ll remember. Besides, she loves going to the pet store.”
I bend down and clap my hands, calling Rascal over to me. She comes bounding over, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, and rolls over onto her back in front of me. I rub her belly and continue to listen in as Sarah tries to get more details about Amber out of Logan.
Since she’s distracted and too close for me to ignore, I sneak a couple of squeezes to her ass when Logan isn’t looking. Each time, she trips over her words and turns to glare down at me while I innocently go back to petting Rascal. I lift my hand to sneak in another squeeze, but she’s on to me and gently kicks her foot back at me.
Foiled.
Giving up, I stand. “What’s for dinner?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Logan answers.
“And garlic bread,” Sarah adds, trying her best to look annoyed at me.
“Smells great.” I ignore her glare and change the subject. “Has Rascal been out recently?”
“I’ll let her out,” Logan volunteers, setting the wooden spoon he was using to stir the noodles on the counter.
Once he’s out of sight, I pull Sarah against me.
“Now I have to you all to myself,” I tease, kissing her cheek loudly.
She giggles, trying to get away, but I only tighten my arms around her.
“Will, I can’t believe you were grabbing my butt in front of Logan,” she hiss-whispers.
“Come on, he didn’t see anything,” I promise, grinning at her.
“You’re rotten,” she grumbles, but I know she’s over it when she kisses me.
I love everything about this woman. She knows all my secrets, my fears, my insecurities and loves me no matter what. I have it all with her: laughter, friendship, and she still makes me feel like a horny teenager whenever I’m around her. All I need in life is to know that she’ll be next to me each morning when I wake.
As my wife, whatever adventures life has in store for me, I’ll have her by my side to face them. Our potentially biggest adventure starting tomorrow when we go see her doctor.
Sarah
We’re pregnant.
I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but that went out the window the moment Will looked at me, eyes bright and wet as the doctor confirmed it. By his estimate, we are six weeks along. Any tears that came after that were all Will’s fault. I hope he’s paying attention to everything my doctor is saying, because I zoned out after he said we should be able to hear our baby’s heartbeat at our next appointment.
Our baby.
After the appointment, we stop to have lunch together. Neither of us speaks; we just hold hands and grin at each other. It’s not until we’re back in the car so Will can take me home that we’re able to speak again.
“Should we wait to tell Logan?” I ask.
Will nods. “Isn’t it normal to wait until the first trimester is over to tell people? Isn’t that what Brian and Christine do?”
“So, not until the middle of February? That seems so far away,” I argue.
“I know.” He reaches out to rest his hand on my thigh. “But with the year he’s had, it’s probably safest to wait.”
I turn to glance out the window, hating the implication of his words. There’s a reason expectant parents wait to tell people—the risk of miscarriage is greatest during the first trimester. A bubble of fear expands within my chest. After waiting so long only to have our hopes dashed time and time again to get pregnant, I would be devastated if something were to happen.
“You’re right,” I gulp, my emotions lodging in my throat.
He squeezes my thigh and gently runs his hand downward to my knee and back up again. “It will be okay.”
He’s always known how to calm me down. I do my best to relax my nerves as we turn onto our street. Walking me inside, only to make sure I’m all right, Will kisses me sweetly, pausing to let his fingers drift over my stomach. I could tell he’d rather stay with me than go into work, but for some reason I need a couple hours to myself to collect my thoughts.
“I’m fine. Go.” I push him toward the door.
He leaves me after one final kiss on my forehead and I watch him walk back to his car. Once he pulls back onto our street, I close the door and hurry to let Rascal out of her crate. I left my coat on so we could go for a walk. We don’t walk every day; on the colder ones, when I’m feeling lazy, I just let her out into our fenced backyard. Today, though, given how mild it is, I decide to collect my thoughts on a walk with her.
“Wanna go for a walk, girl?” I coo, clicking her leash onto her collar.
We head toward the playground I take Calvin to when I babysit him. Given the temperature, it’s deserted. By next September, I could be walking this way with a stroller. The sky is clear of clouds, but the wind still has an edge that stings my cheeks as we walk. Its chill does nothing to dispel the warmth inside me, though.
Over the last few months, our world has changed so much; first with Rascal and then with Logan coming to live with us. Will and I want to adopt him; finding out we’re pregnant does not change that in any way. It’s so strange to think about the loneliness I suffered before when now it seems as though every day my world is filling with more to love.
I had been so certain a family was not in my future, ashamed that I couldn’t provide one for Will. My joy at the difference of now versus then is only hampered by the fact that we decided to wait until I was past my first trimester to share with everyone. I can’t wait to tell my parents, Sawyer and, crazy as it sounds, Will’s mom. She fawns over Rascal and Logan so much already, I’m sure she’ll lose her mind over her first grandbaby.
Heart full, I turn back in the direction of our house. Once we’re back inside, Rascal curls up on her cushion in the living room. I start a fire and pull out Logan’s gifts to wrap. From us, we’re giving him lacrosse gear and his long board will be from Santa. Sure, he’s probably long past the age of still believing in Saint Nick, but neither Will nor I wanted to confirm that. Worst-case, he’ll roll his eyes at us Christmas morning.
I have Christmas carols playing in the background as I work. There’s plenty of time for me to wrap everything before the boys get home, but I still start with the long board so I can hide it before I wrap anything else. It comes in a box with two of the wheels visible on one side, which somewhat defeats the purpose of the box. It’s hard to disguise the outline of the wheels so I end up putting it inside another box, filled with balled-up tissue paper.
I’m excited about Christmas and hopeful that we can still give Logan a good one even after everything he has been through this last year. He could be in a group home right now, and the thought of that alone breaks my heart. That may be why I go a bit overboard on the ribbons and bows. I only want it to be special for him. Once I’m finished with it, I carry the box back upstairs and hide it in my closet. It’s big, though, so I might have Will move it up into the attic tonight after Logan goes to bed.
Heading back downstairs, I get started on wrapping all of the lacrosse stuff Will got. There are gloves, pads, cleats, a helmet, balls, the shaft and a head. I wrap each one individually and place them all under the tree. Logan is going to flip when he gets home and sees all of it. Excitement from the day hits me and I stretch out across the sofa to rest. Even though I only intended to lie down briefly, I end up falling asleep.
Hours later, I groggily awaken to Will leaning over me and rubbing my back. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”
I blink up at him. “What time is it?”
He smoothes my hair back behind my ear as his blue eyes shine warmly down at me. “Almost dinner time.”
Stunned so much time has passed, I bolt upright, almost bumping heads with him. “Why didn’t you wake me when you got home?”
He lifts his arm to wrap around my shoulders and hold me close to his side. “You looked so peaceful and besides,” his voice lowers to a whisper. “You need your rest.”
I gulp, my rest. Will this feeling ever go away? I’m barely into my pregnancy, so it’s not surprising I’m in awe of the thought of it. I wonder if four or five months from now I’ll still feel the same way.
“What’s for dinner?”
He stands, pulling me up with him, and directs us toward the kitchen. “Smoked sausage, steamed broccoli, noodles and applesauce. Logan helped me make it all.”
“Yum.”
Logan is already seated when we reach the kitchen.
“Sorry I didn’t help with dinner.” I gesture toward the food on the table. “This looks great.”
As we eat, I ask Logan how school was. It was the last day before winter break, so it will be fun to have both of my boys home for the next two weeks.
“What day is Amber coming over?” Will asks.
“The twenty-seventh. She’s going to be out of town before that.” Logan’s cheeks redden as he answers.
“Oh. Do you know where she’s going?” I can’t help my curiosity.
“Her grandparents live in Florida,” he replies.
“Does she have any brothers or sisters?” I ask, ignoring Will’s attempt to hide his grin.
Logan glances between us, probably wondering why Wil
l thinks this is so funny. “She, um, has an older brother. I think he’s a sophomore.”
If his name is Brian, I’ll die laughing. I can tell Will is thinking the same thing I am.
“I look forward to meeting her.”
Logan pales. “She’s only coming over to work on our project.”
Will snorts and I glare at him. Turning back to Logan, I reply, “Of course.”
He doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t say anything.
“Do you guys want to watch a movie tonight?” Will changes the subject. “Logan and I can run out to Redbox or we can order something through the DVR.”
I clap; I’m always up for a movie night. “Let’s go with DVR. I can make popcorn.”
I clear the table while Logan and Will go to check out what movies are available. After giving me their top picks, we all agree on an action comedy. Logan helps Will bring in more wood for the fire as I make the popcorn.
Fifteen minutes into the movie, I pass out.
Will
Amber is in the house. Her dad dropped her off thirty minutes ago. Sarah is pretending to read a book in the living room since they are in the kitchen. How do I know she’s faking? She hasn’t turned a page in ten minutes. Sarah spent the first ten minutes Amber was here offering her something to eat or drink while Logan looked about as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen him.
I decided to come to his rescue and get her out of the kitchen so they could get started on their project. I had hoped to get her upstairs, but I only managed as far as the living room. She planted her ass on the sofa and gave me a look daring me to try and move her. I just shook my head at her and flipped on the TV to some college ball so I could keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t go and bother them again.
Rascal ambles out of the kitchen to come curl up on her cushion by the fireplace. It’s warmer today than it has been in the last week or so, which is the only reason we don’t have a fire going. We haven’t had one since Christmas day. It came in handy for a quick way to get rid of all of that wrapping paper, though. Sarah outdid herself on all of the gifts under the tree.
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