“Baby’s a little small for our liking but healthy as a lamb,” the doctor says, coming over and adjusting the equipment slightly.
“Would you like to know the sex?” he asks, and we both shake our heads in the negative.
“No,” Jules says, speaking for us both as I take her hand in mine. “We want it to be a surprise… like today was.”
“You didn’t know?” I ask her, still in shock.
“Did you?” she says in her best tell me off voice. “Geez, Mason, I’ve been saying for months how I’m packing on the pounds and you’re all just like ‘Duh, more of you to love baby,’” she says in her best impression of me.
Doc Briggs backs away, trying not to laugh. “I’ll give you two a moment,” and he steps out with the nurse.
I don’t mind if she’s making fun of me. I don’t mind at all.
“We’ll move the wedding up,” I tell her. “I’m not having a child out of wedlock.” She laughs at me, thinking I’m being funny still, but I mean it.
“I said Jules, when I asked you to marry me, our kids were gonna have a real mommy and a daddy, right from day one. No, if’s, and, or but’s.”
She squeezes my hand, understanding how strongly I feel about this. It’s an unspoken thing between us, she never mentions her lack of family and I’ll always put my family first, no matter what.
“Alright, Mason,” she agrees.
“And no more construction sites. I want you to take it easy from now on, you can delegate from home to work on your projects.”
“Yes, Mason,” she chimes patiently.
I must list off about a dozen other things before she’s finally heard enough.
“Mason?”
“Yeah, baby?” I ask her, full of concern.
“Shut up and kiss me will you.”
“Yes, Jules.”
And I do, I kiss her, and I hold her and I tell her a thousand times how much I love her.
How much I’m gonna love her and our baby forever.
“And Mason?” she asks me after a time. “Maybe make a start on the baby’s room, hire a builder will ya? It’s been six months and you haven’t even finished starting the front porch.
“Yes, dear.”
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER
Jules
I’d never heard of a groom arranging his own shotgun wedding, but that’s what it felt like. Almost straight from the hospital after we found out I was heavy for a reason that wasn’t bagels, we made our way to the altar with Mason’s vows.
It doesn’t seem that long ago, but baby Jack is already doing his own version of walking, and Mason’s got giant pails of blue and pink paint at the ready, asking me every time I feel even a little tired if I think I might be expecting again.
Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration. But he’s taken to being a daddy so well. He loves it so much, I can just tell he’s as clucky as I am.
Not that I’d tell him that to his face, mind you.
“Honey!” I call up the stairs.“We’ll be late.”
Damned stairs, the whole point of moving was to avoid stairs. ‘We might need the extra room honeybunch.’
Baby Jack’s hanging onto the gate at the bottom of the stairs, looking up and waiting for his daddy. Looking like he’s doing time.
Or filling his diaper.
Yep. Great.
“Never mind, I gotta change Jack, again,” I call up to Mason, who’s suddenly gone quiet.
I don’t think he’d have nerves about the opening… or is it because it’s been two years already?
The time, it’s gone by so fast.
I hear the heavy thumping of Mason sprinting across the upper floor and down the stairs, leaping over the baby gate and scooping Jack from me before I can get him to the changing table.
“I got it, honey. You go get ready,” he says, not even panting.
“I am ready, Mason. Have been for twenty minutes, same as Jack. What were you doing up there?” I ask, wanting to sound annoyed, but always loving to watch my man change his little man.
I take a step back, fanning myself with my hand, feeling faint.
“What’s he been eating?” I exclaim, suddenly wanting to heave.
“Only what we feed him,” Mason murmurs, the clean diaper between his pursed lips as he concentrates.
“We can be late anyway honey,” he continues. “It’s your building, project, neighborhood thingy, whatever you call it, you’re the boss,” he says with finality.
“And our anniversary dinner,” I say, puffing my cheeks at the thought of food, really not feeling very well.
“At the soup kitchen. Great idea by the way hun. Two years of wedded bliss. Let’s go have a bowl of chili and some cold coffee in a paper cup.”
He looks up, noticing my face.
“Sorry, baby. I know it’s a great cause and I know you do more than serve up-”
He doesn’t get to finish.
In one swift movement, he’s scooped up baby Jack with one arm and launched himself over to me, catching me before my head hits the sideboard as my legs give out.
“Alright, it’s alright, everyone’s alright,” he coos, bouncing Jack and effortlessly planting me in a chair before he examines me.
“Give him here,” I murmur, taking Jack and bouncing him on my knee while Mason squats down in front of us both, stroking my hair back and then kissing Jack.
“Do we need to make a stop at the doctors on the way?” he asks, a familiar grin, a devilish glint in his eyes.
I screw my face up, trying to get mad again, but something in me just tells me he’s right.
“I’ll be fine, Mason, just Jack’s stinky diaper got to me. I’ll make an appointment next week. We’re kind busy this week,” I remind him.
“Anniversary? Then holiday? Remember those?” I hear myself whining, trying not to smile.
But he’s smiling too much for my liking like he knows what I just figured out.
Like I know somehow we’re going to be later than I’d like for the opening and for our anniversary dinner.
