Chapter 2: Isn’t She Lovely
Three Hearts: The Baby’s Room
The early February morning looked
beautiful through the window. Sunlight
shimmered across the fresh snow blanketing their wide front yard, turning the
world outside into something hushed and pristine. Mark stirred and smiled—not
just at the winter light, but at the way it caught in Kimmy’s hair as she slept
curled against him, warm and peaceful, breathing softly into his chest. He carefully slid one leg free from the
covers.
Immediately, fingers tightened in
the fabric of his shirt.
“Oh no you don’t,” Kimmy murmured.
Mark looked down. Her eyes were
already open—bright, mischievous, fully awake now.
“Snuggle,” she said softly. “Just
a couple minutes. Then you can go… when I come back.”
She slipped out of bed before he
could protest.
He watched her pad toward the
bathroom, the long tails of the shirt flapping behind her, and smiled to
himself.
When she returned moments later,
she climbed back into bed with exaggerated enthusiasm, making the mattress rock
like the Viking Polaris crossing the Drake Passage.
“Did you hear anything while I was
in there?”
Mark’s grin nearly split his face
as she tucked herself back into him.
“And…” she added, taking his hand,
guiding it under her shirt.
“Oh,” Mark breathed.
She slid his hand lower—to her
belly.
There it was. A gentle, undeniable
rise beneath his palm. A baby bump that seemed to have appeared overnight.
“Oh wow, honey,” he whispered.
“That’s… that’s really…” He kissed the
top of her head, lingering.
She laughed out loud.
Mark paused a fraction longer than
she expected, just looking at her.
She caught his expression and
thought, Oh… he really, really loves me.
“Coffee, puzzle, and a
cinnamon roll?” Allan chuckled. “What’s the occasion?”
“End of an era,” Mark said with a
smile, leaning in. “No more morning
sickness.”
Allan’s face lit up. “That’s got to be a relief.”
“It is,” Mark nodded. “Man,
though—this cold.”
“Did you see the forecast?” Allan
said. “They’re calling it snow-mageddon. A foot or more. Single digits.”
Mark laughed. “When I lived in Florida, if it hit the
fifties we put on parkas.”
They both laughed loudly, the
sound echoing off the tile.
“A celebratory cinnamon roll,”
Mark said. “Congrats on surviving thus far.”
“Ooooooh yay!” she whispered,
holding out her hands.
Mark smiled, watching her,
marveling at the woman in front of him. She
caught his gaze, smiled just as broadly, and he reached out to pat her head
before heading to his laptop.
Later, as Kimmy put leftover chili
into the fridge, Mark said, “Did you see
the forecast? We might be snow-bound this weekend. I’ll run to the store unless
you want to come.”
She lifted the crimson sweater
triumphantly over her head and disappeared down the hall.
Mark stood to grab his coat—and
suddenly felt it. The tightening in his chest.
“I’m ready baby…are….oh no” Kimmy
said instantly, hurrying to him.
He glanced at his Fitbit. Heartbeat
57.
I’m okay, he told himself.
One more deep breath—and the
sensation eased.
“Whew,” he sighed.
“Good as gold,” he said, taking
her hand.
At the furniture store, Mark
followed patiently as Kimmy moved from crib to crib.
“I like this one… but maybe in
white? No… too low? Let’s see that other one again… oh wait—what about this?”
Mark smiled. So like the
Christmas lights…
She blushed, returned to the first
white crib, studied it again—then from another angle.
Finger to her lip. Thoughtful.
“Yes,” she declared. “This one.”
Mark waved over the sales clerk
and began the paperwork, smiling quietly.
Love in the Snow
“Oh my—!”
Mark was awake instantly. Before
his eyes even opened, his arm reached for Kimmy.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
The bed beside him was empty.
He sat up quickly and saw her
standing at the window, frozen in place. She turned slowly, eyes wide, mouth
open, and lifted one hand to point.
“Look.”
Mark swung his legs out of bed and
joined her. Snow was piled halfway up the window, a white wall pressing close,
muting the world beyond.
“Wow,” he breathed. He slipped his
arms around her shoulders. “You’re freezing, honey—come here. That’s got to be
at least a foot and a half out there.”
She leaned back into him, still
staring.
She kissed him—not playful, not
teasing. Protective.
She padded down the hall, humming
a tune he didn’t recognize. He smiled anyway.
Mark was standing at the front
window when his phone rang. Allan’s name lit the screen—his smiling photo
holding up a cup of coffee.
“Hey brother,” Mark said. “Some
snow, right?”
A pause.
“Oh… oh…”
Kimmy turned from the kitchen,
instantly alert.
He hung up.
“What’s up, baby?”
“Allan and Sally lost power.”
“Oh no—did you—”
“He’s got four-wheel drive,” Mark
finished. “He packed Sally up, stopped at Wawa, and they’re on their way here.”
She headed down the hall.
Mark called after her, “You do
know it’s really my shirt, right?”
Mark shook his head, smiling,
remembering the first time she’d stepped out of the bathroom years ago wearing
it and said, It feels like you wrapped around me.
“More than willing to give that
shirt up,” he murmured.
Fifteen minutes later, Allan’s
truck crawled up the driveway, fishtailing slightly before sliding to a stop.
Mark opened the door and waved them in.
Sally dragged a small carry-on
behind her. Allan balanced a cardboard holder with four steaming coffees.
“Come in, kids,” Mark said,
hugging Sally quickly.
Laughter filled the room.
The day unfolded slowly—board
games on the coffee table, news updates flickering on the television, long
conversations punctuated by bursts of laughter.
Kimmy made a big pot of her famous
spaghetti for dinner.
“Only Diet Coke, dude?” Allan
teased.
Sally glanced at Allan. They
exchanged a look and shook their heads.
Mark squeezed her arm. They
touched foreheads.
Laughter exploded around the
table.
Later, Kimmy smoothed the
bedspread in the guest room. Sally fluffed the pillows.
“We really appreciate you putting
up with us,” Sally said.
What started as a sleepover turned
into three full days snowed in together.
Everyone turned.
“I’m throwing you a baby shower!”
“That’s a great idea,” Allan cut
in, patting Sally’s leg. “Can the boys come?”
Sally looked at Kimmy. They
exchanged knowing, crooked smiles.
Kimmy nodded.
“Sure,” Sally said. “But you boys
stay in the other room. No way you’re hearing our girl talk.”
Mark and Allan stared at each
other, eyes wide.
“Wait,” Mark said carefully. “What
kind of stories?”
Everyone chuckled.
Dates were checked. Schedules
compared. Plans began to take shape.
Outside, the snow stayed deep and
silent.
Inside, the house was full—of
warmth, laughter, and the unmistakable sense that something beautiful was
growing in every possible way.
Love Hurts
Mark came in carrying the coffees
and the newspaper and found Kimmy at her laptop, Mickey and Minnie standing
guard on either side like they always did. She looked up and smiled.
“Thanks, baby. I think this might
be the last week I can wear my shirt,” she said, tugging gently at the
buttons stretched across her growing belly. “Ever since we found out last week
it’s a boy, he’s been on a growth spurt.”
Mark kissed the top of her head
and set the coffee down.
“You can feel the season
changing,” he said. “I hardly needed a jacket this morning. There are green
buds on the trees along the road to Wawa. Allan says Sally is so excited about
the shower this weekend.”
Kimmy brightened. “Me too. Look at
this, honey.”
He leaned over her shoulder and
saw the screen: COLUMBIA RIVER EXCURSIONS.
“I can’t believe it’s only a
couple weeks away,” she said. “You sure you’re up for it?”
She gave him a playful pout, then
smiled. “I’m pregnant, not crippled.”
Then her expression softened. She
took his hand and pulled him a little closer.
“Listen… I really would tell you.
You know that. If I had the slightest worry about the walking or the
excursions, I’d say so.”
Mark’s face eased. “It’s just…”
“I know,” she said, patting his
hand. “You’re always protecting me. But I’m good. You don’t have to be strong
all by yourself. I’ve got this. We’ve got this.”
They went back to scrolling
through options, weighing what looked fun against what looked tiring, laughing
a little, planning a little, feeling the shape of the next weeks take form.
The clock glowed 2:18 a.m.
when Mark shifted in bed. The familiar warmth beside him made him smile as he
carefully slid out and headed toward the bathroom.
As he stepped back into the
bedroom, it felt like a hot sword drove straight through his lower back.
The pain shot down his leg and he
dropped to the floor.
“This is new,” he thought as it
didn’t ease. Okay… give it time. Lay down. This has passed before. It’ll
pass again.
He tried to get up—and couldn’t.
The disbelief hit almost as hard
as the pain. He sank back down and stretched out on the floor, finding a
position that dulled it just enough to breathe.
He looked up at the bed. Kimmy was
still sleeping.
I’ll wait, he thought,
stretching his arms overhead, trying to make the floor feel less like stone.
Kimmy stirred. She reached
instinctively for him, felt the empty space, and smiled before opening her
eyes. Off for my coffee and puzzle, she thought.
Then she lifted her head—and saw
him.
“Mark… baby… MARK!”
She was out of bed in an instant.
He tried to smile. “Honey… no, no…
it’s okay…”
She dropped to her knees beside
him, hands behind his head. “What’s wrong? Oh God, what’s wrong?”
He tried to push up on one elbow
and winced. “My… back. Wow. That hurts.”
Her eyes filled. “What can I do?
Please… tell me you’ll be okay.”
“Hey… hey,” he said, forcing some
strength into his voice. “Look at me, Kimmy.”
She did, blinking back tears.
“What should I do?”
“Get dressed. Don’t rush—but the
sooner the better. Pull the car around. I think I can get to it. You might have
to help me down the steps. I’ll lay in the back seat.”
Her tears came anyway.
“We can do this,” he whispered. “I
just need a little help.”
“Okay,” she said softly, and
stood.
As she pulled the car around, she
dialed Sally.
“Hey, honey—something come up and
you’ll be late to the courts?” Sally said.
Kimmy’s voice broke. “Sally… I
found him on the floor. I’m taking him to the hospital.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Sally said
instantly. “Be brave. You know Mark’s strong. He’ll be okay.”
Mark lay on the ER bed while Kimmy
stood beside him, gripping his arm. The pain flared and faded, flared and
faded, each time tightening his face—and each time bringing fresh tears to her
eyes.
The doctor came in, calm and
direct. “The MRI shows a slightly slipped disc. I can give you an injection for
the pain, but really, time is the best cure. Have you had back issues before?”
“Yes,” Mark said. “But this is… a
new level.”
The doctor nodded and took the
syringe from the nurse, injecting it into Mark’s hip. “You should feel some
relief in a few minutes. I’ll write you a prescription and be back.”
The edge dulled, but only a
little.
“Is it any better?” Kimmy asked, a
tear slipping down her cheek.
“Come here,” Mark said, pulling
her forehead gently to his. “Listen…”
Her tears came faster.
“Hey… it’s okay. It’s not
permanent. This will be over by the end of the day. We’re good.”
Another bolt of pain shot down his
leg and he tightened his grip.
The doctor returned. “Better?”
“Not much,” Mark said. “Can you
give me another shot, please?”
Kimmy’s eyes widened. The doctor
hesitated. “I’d rather not. It’ll almost certainly make you nauseous.”
“I don’t care,” Mark said. “This
pain has to stop. I’ve got a pregnant wife to take care of.”
The doctor sighed. “All right.
Your call.”
Mark looked at Kimmy as the needle
went in. “Can you get the car, honey? I’ll be okay in a minute.”
She nodded and went out. Sally was
waiting.
“How is he?”
Kimmy broke down and Sally wrapped
her in a hug. “He’ll be fine. Tell me.”
Kimmy explained. Sally squeezed
her. “I’ll follow you home. Help you get him settled. I’ll stay as long as you
need.”
As Kimmy walked out, she thought, I
need to be strong. She placed a hand on her belly without thinking. For
him. For both of you.
Sally and Kimmy helped Mark up the
front steps and onto the sofa.
“I already feel better,” he said
weakly.
Kimmy gave him a look. “You threw
up before you even made it to the car. Are you sure you’re better? Do you want
to try to eat something?”
“Maybe a grilled cheese,” he said.
“Not burnt.”
She half-smiled, half-frowned.
“Not funny. Not today.”
By afternoon the sun broke through
the clouds. By evening, Mark was holding Kimmy on the sofa, the two of them
quiet, a show playing they weren’t really watching.
She was tucked into his arm when
it ended. She said softly, mostly to herself, “You can’t do that again,” and
pulled him closer.
He kissed the top of her head. “I
can’t really control my back, baby.”
She looked up at him, eyes still a
little shiny. “I know. But you can’t lie on the floor and not tell me.
Let me help you. You understand me?”
He saw the smile—but he heard the
seriousness.
“Okay, baby,” he said. “Yes,
ma’am.”
Kimmy snuggled closer, and he held
her there, careful, grateful, and very aware of how much they meant to each
other now.
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Mark pulled into Allan and Sally’s
driveway and found it already half full of cars.
“Looks like quite a turnout for
you, honey,” he said, smiling over at Kimmy.
She squeezed his hand, her eyes
bright. “But it’s all for our little boy.” She leaned over and gave him
a quick kiss, then was out of the car and halfway to the door before he could
say another word.
Sally opened it and pulled Kimmy
into a big hug, laughing. Mark followed more slowly and spotted Allan on the
porch, who lifted a hand in greeting and jerked his thumb toward the chairs.
“I figured we’d just hang out here
while the girls do their thing,” Allan said, handing Mark a glass of wine.
The two of them settled in,
talking about work, the weather, and the latest attempt at predicting spring
while, inside, the sounds of laughter and the rustle of wrapping paper drifted
through the open door.
After about an hour, Mark leaned
forward and peeked in. The living room was full of women sitting in a loose,
happy circle, presents stacked off to one side, everyone talking at once and
laughing.
“What are they talking
about?” Mark asked.
Allan just shrugged. “Girls. Go
figure.”
A sudden burst of giggles erupted,
and Mark looked again. He saw Kimmy with both hands over her mouth, eyes wide,
laughing as she said, “You’ve got to be kidding—he did?”
One of the girls nodded. Sally and
Kimmy exchanged big grins, and then Kimmy leaned in, lowering her voice. “Well,
one time, Mark—” she started… and then caught his eye through the doorway.
She leaned in even closer, the
group dissolving into laughter again, and Sally swatted Kimmy’s arm. “No!”
Kimmy blushed and nodded anyway.
Mark sat back. “Are you seeing
this?”
Allan laughed. “Like I said…
girls. Go figure.”
On the drive home, Kimmy wore a
quiet, satisfied smile, gazing out the window.
“So,” Mark said, “tell me… how was
it?”
“They’re all so sweet,” she said,
closing her eyes for a second and leaning back. “That was really fun. And I was
glad you were there. I felt you close by. That meant a lot.”
He patted her thigh. “Always,
baby. Looked like some… um… stories were being told in there. What was that
about?”
A little color crept into her
cheeks. “Oh, just girl talk,” she said, laughing softly.
“So… spill.”
“Maybe later,” she said, reaching
into her bag. “But look what Sally gave us.”
She held up an envelope and pulled
out two tickets. “Miss Saigon. Next Saturday night. It’s been sold out for
weeks. She bought them before she even planned the shower and saved them for
today.”
“Oh wow,” Mark said. “The music in
that is amazing.”
At home, he took her hand to help
her up the steps. “Want me to fix you something to eat… or rub your back?”
She smiled. “No… come on. I’ll
tell you about the stories the girls were sharing.” And she led him down the
hall, laughing.
Spring was fully awake by the
first week of April. The late afternoon light poured through the bedroom
windows as Mark stood deciding between sport jackets.
Then he heard the soft sound of
crying.
“Baby? You okay?”
No answer.
He walked toward the bathroom and
found Kimmy standing in front of the mirror in her cream-colored slacks and
bra, staring at her reflection.
“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked
gently.
“I’m so fat,” she said, pouting as
another tear slid down her cheek.
Mark stepped behind her and pulled
her close, kissing the side of her neck. “You are not fat. You are a beautiful
momma-to-be.”
She gave a tiny, doubtful smile.
“Do you really think so? Be honest.”
He turned her to face him.
“Honest. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye—and I have
had that done, you know.”
She laughed through her sniffle.
“Not funny.”
“That’s my girl,” he said,
smiling. “And let me tell you something…”
He leaned in and whispered, “You
cannot wear that to the musical… but this may be my favorite outfit I’ve
ever seen you in.”
She shook her head, smiling
despite herself. “Stop. Okay. I’m good now.”
She came out a few minutes later
in a navy maternity top with a low neckline, the gold heart necklace catching
the fading sunlight.
“How’s this?”
“You are so adorable,” Mark
said—and the doubt vanished from her eyes.
When the curtain fell on Miss
Saigon, all four of them stood at once. Mark’s eyes were misty, and Kimmy
pulled him close.
“That was the best,” she murmured.
Allan and Sally dropped them off
at home. “Come in for one drink on the porch?” Kimmy offered.
Allan laughed. “Some of us worked
all week.” They waved and drove off.
Inside, Mark said, “Let’s have a
Diet Coke on the porch.”
When he came back out, Kimmy was
on the sofa by the fire, flipping through What to Expect When You’re
Expecting.
“It’s all new,” Mark said, handing
her a glass. “And who really knows what to do, right?”
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,”
she said, closing the book. “But sometimes I get anxious. Do you think we’ll be
good parents?”
“I’m certain of it,” he said. “And
I’m certain he’ll be a wonderful baby. He’s got good genes from his momma.”
She smiled softly. “I have the
best life.”
“We do,” Mark said.
She tapped him with the book. “And
this time next week, we’ll be sailing down the Columbia River. Are you
excited?”
He slipped his arm around her.
“It’s hard to say which I’m more excited for—another trip with you, or starting
our family life with the little man.”
They lifted their glasses and
looked out at the creek, the water catching the last light of day, moving
steadily and surely downstream—just like everything else.
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