Chapter 1: Rewind
Whispers of Love
Sally waved as Kimmy climbed out
of her car, the late-morning sun catching the tops of windshields and the
aluminum frames of pickleball paddles. The courts were already alive with
sound—the hollow thwack of balls, laughter drifting easily across the
fences, the comfortable noise of people who had nowhere else they needed to be. Kimmy lifted her racket in reply, smiling as
she walked toward her friend. They met
at the gate, tipping paddles like fencers before a match.
Sally stopped short, her grin
dissolving into curiosity. “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “You and Mark planning
another big trip? A big Christmas surprise for your hubby? Come on—what is it?” Kimmy glanced left, then right, suddenly
aware of the open space around them. She leaned in, pulling Sally close,
lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“I think I may be expecting.”
Sally squeezed her hands. “Oh honey, I know Mark. I know him.
He’s going to be thrilled—truly.”
“You really think so?” Kimmy asked
quietly. “We’re so happy together, and—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,”
Sally said gently. “Trust me.” Then her competitive spark returned. “Now come
on. You’re going down, girl.”
Later that afternoon, the world
felt quieter. Mark and Kimmy walked arm
in arm along the narrow path that traced the creek through the woods. The air
was crisp, clean in the way only late autumn could be. Most of the leaves had
already fallen, carpeting the ground in muted golds and browns, while a stubborn
few clung to bare branches overhead. Mark
slowed his pace.
“You know one of my favorite
moments of my life?” he said.
“You changed my life,” he said
quietly. “You completed my life. Who would have thought?”
She smiled up at him. “We’re the
end of a Hallmark movie. When the screen rolls—Happily Ever After.”
He shook his head, pulling her
closer. “No, baby. Happily still.
And forever still happy.” He took her
hand, and they started walking again. Kimmy
leaned in, close enough that only he could hear. Her voice was barely more than
breath.
“I’m pregnant.”
Mark didn’t just stop walking. Time folded.
For a fraction of a second, the creek, the fallen leaves, the cool air
all blurred as something older and heavier passed through him. Not fear—memory.
Years of carefully finished chapters. A life once measured in semesters,
schedules, and certainty. A quiet acceptance that some doors had closed gently,
without regret. You already had your
turn, a distant voice whispered. You
were lucky. Don’t ask for more. Then
another voice answered—his own, steady and sure. This isn’t more. This is different.
He turned to face Kimmy. Her eyes searched his, hopeful and anxious
all at once, a half-smile trembling at the edges. “Really?” he asked.
She nodded, watching him closely. Please
be happy, she thought.
And suddenly everything aligned. The word didn’t land like disruption. It landed like recognition. Mark’s face broke
open with joy. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly, his breath
catching.
She grinned, that familiar sly
sparkle returning. “About six weeks. I
suspected for a while, but we didn’t know until the doctor said it was probably
happening. Then today I got the email—the test results confirming it.”
“Wow,” Mark said, shaking his
head, smiling like he might never stop. “That’s just so… so… wow.”
“I know,” Kimmy said. “I didn’t
think I could be any happier with you. But now—having a baby together?” She
rose onto her toes, arms tightening around his neck. “I’m completely over the
top.” She kissed him—long, certain,
unafraid. They started walking again,
hand in hand.
“So that’s why everything
makes sense now,” Mark said, laughing softly. He talked as they walked—about
how radiant she’d been leaving the doctor’s office, how he should have known.
He teased her about the night on the porch when she’d asked for Diet Coke
instead of wine while they talked about Viking cruises. She giggled, nudging
him playfully. “And Egypt,” he added
thoughtfully. “That trip’s probably off the table, I’m guessing.”
Kimmy smiled, squeezing his hand. “No. That’s why I asked about the dates. By
the time we’d go, our little one would be two.” She looked up at him. “I think
we’d be ready for a getaway—just the two of us. Right?”
Mark stopped again, turning her
toward him, taking both her hands in his.
“Wow,” he said softly. “I’m so, so happy.” He studied her—really studied her—and felt
the truth settle deep inside him. He hadn’t been finished. He had been waiting.
“You know what?” he said.
“What, baby?”
“Daddy,” Mark repeated quietly,
smiling as the word reshaped his future.
They walked on, the path narrowing as the woods thickened around them,
the creek murmuring beside them like it was keeping a secret too.
Mark glanced at Kimmy. Her free
hand rested instinctively against her middle now—not consciously, just knowing.
He smiled at the quiet miracle of that small gesture. No fanfare.
No grand declarations.
Just a man who once thought his
story had settled…and a woman who had already taught him that love doesn’t
end—It opens. And somewhere
ahead, unseen but unmistakably real, a new chapter waited— not as a surprise, but
as a promise they were finally ready to keep.
You Make It Feel Like Christmas
Thanksgiving passed quietly,
almost reverently, as if neither of them wanted to crowd the days with too much
noise. They were still glowing from the news, carrying it like a shared secret
that warmed everything it touched. The
morning after, the air had turned crisp, the kind of cold that promised winter
without biting yet. Sunlight streamed through the windows as Mark pulled the
boxes out from storage, and Kimmy set herself up at the dining table with a
stack of Christmas cards.
Mark assembled the tree piece by
piece, stepping back occasionally to make sure it stood straight, while Kimmy
addressed envelope after envelope in her careful handwriting. The cards
featured their Antarctica photo on the cover—windblown smiles, bundled coats,
proof of a year that had been full in all the right ways.
Kimmy smiled to herself and
returned to her writing, her heart swelling. I could not be prouder, she
thought, to share with our friends that I am carrying this man’s baby… that
we are becoming a family of three. When
she finished the last card, Mark had laid out the ornaments carefully on the
coffee table. Then, without saying anything, he disappeared down the hall. He returned moments later holding a small
box.
“What have you got there, Mister?”
Kimmy asked, narrowing her eyes playfully.
“Who, me?” Mark said, doing a
terrible job of pretending innocence. “Oh…
this little thing? Just something for the tree.” Kimmy grabbed the step ladder and placed one
foot on the first rung.
“Oh no you don’t, Missy,” Mark
said, gently but firmly. “You are carrying very important cargo. No
ladder climbing for the next several months.”
“Oh baby, I’m fine—”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Boss
lady you may be, but no climbing. That’s final.”
Kimmy relented with a mock sigh
and began directing from the floor as Mark carefully followed instructions.
Kimmy laughed. “Yes, honey. It’s good now.”
Kimmy gasped softly as a tear
slipped down her cheek. “Where did you
find this?”
“Online,” Mark said. “Special
delivery. It had to go with the others, right?” He smiled. “The perfect
ornament for this year.”
“Yes, baby,” she whispered. “Now
it’s perfect.” She placed it just
beneath the other two Disney ornaments, her hand lingering for a moment before
she stepped back.
The weeks that followed were
filled with lists and laughter and more than a few baby furniture stores. Kimmy
carried her journal everywhere, jotting notes—what she loved, what she didn’t,
what felt right. One afternoon on
the drive home, she flipped through its pages.
“Look, honey,” she said, turning the book so Mark could see. “Here’s our
first list of places we wanted to go. And Alaska. And the Euro trip with Allan
and Sally.”
Mark smiled. “That journal’s got a lot of plans and
memories in it, sweetie.”
She flipped the page. “And here’s where I found out all about
Mandy. You know… your girl friend.”
Mark groaned softly. “I knew
I should never have told that story.” Kimmy
giggled. Mark shook his head, then laughed right along with her.
The next morning, Mark woke
instinctively reaching for her—but his hand met empty space. No warmth. No
familiar weight curled against him. Then
he heard it.
From the bathroom.
“Uh oh,” he murmured. I think
morning sickness has arrived.
A few minutes later, Mark slipped
out carefully, dressed, and headed to Wawa.
Allan was already there, two coffees waiting.
Allan shook his head, smiling. “Man, I’m telling you—if men had to get
pregnant, the population would never grow.”
Mark laughed, clinked cups, and agreed.
Back home, he set the coffee
beside Kimmy’s laptop, folded the newspaper open to the crossword puzzle, and
turned toward the porch. “Baby… you
back?” came a sleepy voice from the bedroom.
He pivoted and found her curled up in bed, smiling.
Merry Christmas, Baby
A week before Christmas, winter
arrived with purpose. The air turned bitter cold, sharp enough to sting, and
several inches of snow blanketed the ground, smoothing the world into quiet
stillness. Trees stood dusted and bowed, rooftops softened under white weight.
It felt like the kind of cold that belonged to the season—unforgiving, but
beautiful. Today, though, none of that
mattered. Today was Kimmy’s first
appointment with the doctor. Mark drove
slowly, hands steady on the wheel, cautious over every curve and intersection.
Kimmy watched the snow-covered landscape pass by, her gloved hand resting in
his, her heart racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves she couldn’t
quite quiet. Inside, the clinic was warm
and hushed.
“Kimmy… and Mark?” the nurse
called from the doorway. They both
stood.
Dr. Murray was an elderly man with
kind eyes and an easy calm about him. He had Kimmy sit on the examination table
while Mark pulled a chair close, instinctively taking her hand. “First one?” the doctor asked gently.
After a series of questions and
careful instructions, the doctor turned toward the sonogram machine.
And then—
To Kimmy, the world stopped.
There it was. A steady, low
thumping sound, rhythmic and unmistakable. A heartbeat. Small. Strong.
The doctor smiled quietly as
sunlight poured through the open blinds, reflecting off the snow outside. The
room felt warmer somehow—filled with something far bigger than words.
When they pulled into the driveway
later, Mark hopped out to grab the mail. He returned holding a stack of
Christmas cards—half a dozen at least.
“Open them up, baby,” he said. Kimmy smiled and began reading as Mark guided
her carefully up the steps.
“This one’s from Jeff and Gina,”
she read aloud. ‘Merry Christmas,
kids. We are so excited for your news. All the best.’ She looked up at Mark, glowing. “Here’s Bob and Pam,” she continued. ‘So thrilled for you both. You’re going to
be great parents. Happy Holidays.’ She
read through the rest, each message wrapping them in warmth, joy, and
affirmation.
The next morning, Mark rose
quietly, careful not to wake her. He was nearly out the door for his Wawa run
when he heard it from the bathroom.
Allan was already inside, grateful
to be out of the cold.
“Bitter out there, dude,” Allan
said. “How’d the appointment go?” Mark
could barely contain himself. He told Allan everything—the machine, the sound,
the moment.
Mark returned home to find Kimmy
sitting at her laptop, hands turned up dramatically. “What’s a girl got to do to get her coffee
and a puzzle?” she teased.
“Sorry, baby,” Mark said,
grinning. “Got caught up telling Allan all about the sonogram.”
Christmas morning dawned bright
and clear. Sunlight streamed through the windows as Mark slowly opened his
eyes. Immediately, he sensed something
was different. Where are the bright
eyes? The fingers drumming on my chest
to wake me up? He turned and saw
Kimmy awake—but quietly crying, clutching his shirt.
“Honey… honey… what’s wrong,
baby?” he asked softly. She didn’t
answer at first.
“It’s Christmas,” he said gently.
“Presents… you know… presents?” That
earned a small smile.
“Well, yes,” Mark said gently. “Me
too.”
She lifted her eyes.
Mark gently pulled back. “Well then… you know what time it is?”
The Disney parade echoed from the
television as they sat under the tree. Only two wrapped boxes remained—a large
one in front of Kimmy, a small one in front of Mark. “You first,” she said. Mark opened the small one and froze.
“Dream Vacations.” He looked up.
“What did you do, honey?”
“Open it,” she said, smiling.
Inside was a full itinerary.
“American Cruise Lines,” he read
aloud. “The Columbia River.”
“I wanted us to take one big trip
before the baby arrives,” Kimmy explained. “I didn’t know how I’d feel about an
international flight. When the catalog came, I called and booked it.” She
smiled shyly. “Did I do good?”
She threw her arms around him.
Mark beamed and thought, “Score!”
“I love it,” she whispered,
holding him close. The parade music
played softly. Sunlight reflected off torn wrapping paper. Kimmy looked into
Mark’s eyes and shook her head slowly, smiling.
She didn’t need to say a word. It
had been a wonderful Christmas morning after all.
Happy Anniversary, Baby
The week between Christmas and New
Year’s felt like a small gift of grace. The bitter cold loosened its grip, the
snow melted into dark ribbons along the edges of the street, and the air warmed
enough that winter seemed to pause and catch its breath. Afternoons drifted
into the low fifties, the kind of weather that invited doors to open and plans
to be made. It felt like the right time. They stood together in the doorway of the
back room, hands loosely linked, seeing it not as it was—but as it would be.
“We could put the crib over
there,” Mark said, pointing toward the far wall.
He leaned down and kissed the top
of her head, smiling.
“What about colors?” he asked. “We
painted it blue when we redid it. Want to change it?”
Plans made. Together. In step.
The next afternoon, Kimmy came in
from pickleball, cheeks flushed from the cool air. “Home, baby,” she called. “Where are you?”
“Out here,” Mark answered from the
porch. “Come out when you get a minute.”
She found him seated with his laptop open.
“Sit here, honey,” he said. “I
need you to look at something—and I need you to be honest.”
“Ooooo,” Kimmy murmured. “This
looks fun.” Mark explained—Cairo, the
pyramids, an eight-day cruise down the Nile, then Jordan and Petra. A journey
layered with history and wonder. She
listened, eyes bright.
Mark exhaled, relief softening his
shoulders. “It’s hard to explain,” he
said quietly. “No one is happier than me that we’re becoming a family. But it’s
always been about you. Sharing this with you is what I want. I’ll share
you with our little one—but I’ll still want my Kimmy too.”
“You know I will,” he replied.
“What is it?”
“You’ll have to see,” she teased.
“It’s an early maternity top—but I think it works.” She stepped out.
The setting sun filtered through
the blinds, catching highlights in her hair, and Mark felt his breath catch.
She wore a crimson halter top with a daring neckline, her necklaces resting
perfectly against her skin, paired with cream-colored slacks.
“These still fit,” she said,
smoothing her hands along her hips. “Do they go?”
“Wow,” Mark said softly. “Just…
wow.”
“Ohhh my,” Mark said, grinning.
“That’s… bold.”
After dinner, they carried their
wine to the terrace. Clear plastic shields blocked the cold, heaters hummed
softly, and the city lights shimmered beyond them. They stood together, arms
around each other, quietly taking it all in.
“You know,” Mark said, “I always
think—”
“I know,” Kimmy said, smiling. “Me
too. That first night.”
Mark reached into his pocket. “What did you—” Kimmy began, her heart
already swelling. He opened a small box.
Inside lay a gold necklace—a large heart engraved I LOVE YOU, holding
two smaller interlocking hearts.
“Turn around, baby.”
He removed her necklaces and
fastened the new one gently around her neck.
She looked down at it, fingers tracing the curves. “Just… perfect,” she whispered. The terrace had grown quieter as the evening
wore on. The heaters hummed softly, the city lights below blurred into
something almost painterly, and the last notes of music drifted out through the
open doors behind them. Mark stood with
his arms around Kimmy, her back resting comfortably against his chest. She
reached up and touched the necklace again, still as taken by it as she’d been
moments earlier.
They lingered longer than
necessary—because they could—before finally heading back inside. Coats were
retrieved, goodnights exchanged, and the night air wrapped around them as they
stepped out together.
The drive home was quiet in the
best way. Streetlights passed rhythmically, reflections sliding across the
windshield. Kimmy rested her hand on Mark’s thigh, her thumb tracing small,
absentminded circles. Neither of them needed to fill the space with words. When they walked through the front door, the
house greeted them warmly. Soft lights glowed in the kitchen, spilling gently
into the living room, the familiar comfort of home settling around them like a
blanket.
Mark took Kimmy’s coat and reached
into the closet for a hanger.
“You want to watch a show before
we head to—” he began.
He looked up.
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