Chapter 5: Don’t Worry Baby
Big Girls Don’t Cry
Mark looked at the clock… again.
5:59. Close enough, he decided. The early dawn light slipped in through the
curtains and gave the bedroom a soft, honey-colored glow. Kimmy’s new bracelet
caught that light and threw it back in tiny sparks as her wrist rested on his
chest, her fingers curled into his shirt like it was the most natural thing in
the world. She’d promised she’d never take it off—and she hadn’t, not once.
He eased his arm out from under
her, careful not to wake her, and went looking for his jeans. They weren’t
where he thought he’d left them. He checked the chair, then the closet, then
found them exactly where he’d put them five minutes earlier—on the bed.
At Wawa, he leaned against the
car, the crisp March air slipping through his leather jacket and raising a
faint chill on his arms. He took a second cup inside, more for something to do
with his hands than because he needed it. A few minutes later, Allan’s familiar
truck rolled in.
Allan hopped out, grinning. “Dude,
you’re early!”
Mark handed him the extra cup.
“Couldn’t sleep. You know… tomorrow. Can’t get it off my mind. And I know it
worries Kimmy. That part’s harder for me than the operation.” He shook his
head.
Allan clinked cups with him.
“First—you know you’ll be fine, right?”
Mark nodded.
“And Kimmy’s strong,” Allan added.
“She just lets her emotions out.”
Mark stared for a second at the
steam rising from his coffee. “I… ever since we first got together… it’s just
really hard for me when she’s not happy. You know how she gets when she is
happy?”
Allan laughed. “Oh, we all do.
That’s special.”
“That’s what I live for,” Mark
said softly. “And when she’s not… well…”
Allan put a hand on his shoulder.
“I get it.”
Mark took a slow breath, then
changed gears. “Hey—how’s Sally? You’ve got to be getting close to meeting that
little girl.”
Allan’s smile faded just a touch.
“Won’t lie… a little nervous. Less than a month now. Any advice?”
Mark smiled. “Want the truth?”
Allan leaned in. “Always.”
“I didn’t have a clue what I was
doing when it happened.”
Allan’s jaw dropped. “You? No
way.”
“Way,” Mark laughed. “Just went
with it. And you know what? It was all good.”
Allan shook his head, grinning. “I
thought you had such a grip on the whole—”
“Nope. Faking it the whole way,”
Mark said. “Pretty sure all first-time dads do that. You’re not alone,
brother.” He lifted his cup. “I’ve gotta get this puzzle home or Kimmy’s going
to have a fit. Hang in there—and call if you need us.”
Back home, he found Kimmy on the
sofa feeding Brad. The baby’s eyes lit up when he saw his dad.
“Look, Brad-e-oh,” Kimmy said, as
Mark dropped his keys. “Daddy’s home—and what’s he got for Mommy? Can you say puzzle?
PUZ-ZLE.”
Brad grabbed a fistful of Kimmy’s
hair and made a happy, gurgly sound.
Kimmy laughed. “Hear that? Baby
talk for ‘puzzle.’”
Mark leaned down and kissed the
top of her head. “You were up early, baby… worried?”
He tried to smile it off, but she
felt it anyway. “About what? I’m good. That little thing tomorrow? Nah…”
She didn’t call him on it. Instead
he said, “Here—let me rock him. You start the puzzle.”
Mark took Brad to the recliner,
tucked the clown blanket under his chin, and watched those bright eyes fight
sleep before finally giving in. When he came back, Kimmy looked up from the
puzzle.
“Help me with a couple?” she
asked.
“Sure, baby.”
“Okay—62 across. Seven letters.
Blank, blank, blank, E-V-E-R. Clue: How long I’ll love you.”
Mark stopped mid-step. Kimmy had
her hands tucked under her chin, head tilted just a little, that look in her
eyes he knew by heart.
“Forever,” he said quietly.
She reached out, and he crossed
the room to take her hand.
“Don’t worry, baby,” she said.
“You’ll be home for lunch and we’ll take care of you. Promise.”
He nodded, even though the knot in
his chest didn’t completely go away.
That night, Kimmy put Brad down
and slipped into bed, the shirt sliding off one shoulder. Mark set his book
aside and opened his arm. The news murmured softly in the background.
Then he felt it—the sudden tight
grip on his shirt. And he heard the sound he dreaded most: her quiet, breaking
cry.
“Hey… hey,” he whispered, stroking
her hair. “What is it, baby? You okay?”
“I’m… I’m really trying,” she
said, her voice shaking. “I… I want to be brave.”
“It’s all good, honey,” he said
gently. “You know that. Simple. Snip-snip, I’m out of there.”
She looked up at him, eyes red.
“Don’t joke. I just can’t imagine if something—oh… I’m just so worried.”
And then the tears came in
earnest.
Mark’s heart ached, but he kept
his voice warm and steady. “Honey… really. Don’t. It’s all okay. I’ve got
plans—with you, with Brad. No time for detours.”
She climbed up and kissed him
hard. “You are not allowed to not be okay. You hear me? I won’t have it,
mister.”
He smiled softly. “Did I ever tell
you I love you?”
She settled back against his
chest, and he felt her smile before her breathing finally slowed.
“I’ve got this,” he told himself.
He almost believed it.
At the hospital, Kimmy refused to
leave his side. When he started changing into the gown, he said, “You need to
turn around. A man deserves some privacy.”
She laughed. “Like I don’t know
every inch?” He kissed her quickly. “Oh yeah.”
The surgeon stopped by. “We doing
okay?”
Mark gave a thumbs-up. Kimmy
offered a brave smile.
“You’ll go down the hall,” the
doctor said, then to Kimmy, “It shouldn’t take even half an hour. About
forty-five minutes after, they’ll bring you back to see him.”
Kimmy squeezed Mark’s hand.
“When I look,” the doctor said to
Mark, “we remove the one gland. Test the others. Seconds. Either fine or we
take them out. Nothing new to you, right?”
Mark nodded. “I’m ready. Let’s do
this.”
When his eyes finally fluttered
open, the first thing he saw was Kimmy.
“Hello, beautiful,” he croaked.
“Water… ice?”
She handed him the cup, smiling so
wide it almost broke. “Welcome back.”
“Glad to be back,” he said. “Can
we go home now?”
The day blurred into small,
precious moments. Picking up Brad. The confused look in the back seat. The tiny
hand wrapping around Mark’s finger.
That night, Kimmy curled into him
again. He felt the familiar tug, heard the soft cry.
“Don’t do that again,” she
whispered. “You are not allowed.”
Mark managed a smile and in a
choked voice he said, “You’re doing that thing….”
Kimmy’s eyes brightened, “Tell me
what I’m doing” she said brightening.
“You’re giving me that bright eyed
look that you know what ever you ask I cannot, can never ever say no to.”
Kimmy snuggled close and as she
fingered her bracelet she whispered, “Good….that’s settled.”
And the house, finally, settled
too—quiet, warm, and back where it belonged.
Who Loves You Baby
When Kimmy got home from
pickleball on a chilly day at the end of January, she came in with a small
plastic bag looped over her arm, her cheeks still pink from the cold. The house
was quiet in that special, careful way it had been since Brad arrived—the kind
of quiet that wasn’t empty, just watchful. Brad was sleeping in the back room,
and Mark was stretched out on the sofa, half-watching the noon news with the
baby monitor sitting on the coffee table beside him like it was the most
important device in the world.
“Hey honey,” he said, glancing up
and then back to the screen. “How was pickleball? And whatcha got there?”
Kimmy smiled and reached into the
bag, pulling out a small plastic container with two cupcakes inside, each
topped with a swirl of frosting.
Mark’s face brightened. “I like
cupcakes. What made you—” and then it clicked as Kimmy gave him that look. The
one that always meant you already know.
“That’s right…” Mark said, sitting
up a little straighter. “…it’s the little man’s five-month birthday!”
Kimmy nodded, eyes shining. “Let
me change and we’ll have a birthday party.”
Mark shook his head, smiling to
himself. “So adorable,” he muttered, watching her head down the hall.
A few minutes later, Kimmy was
back, and she’d even bought birthday candles. She was lining them up carefully
when first her phone and then Mark’s chimed almost in unison.
They both looked down. Kimmy
glanced over at him. “Yours from Helen too?”
Mark nodded and read aloud,
“‘Wanted to invite you all over for steaks on the grill this weekend. Ray and I
have an idea. You HAVE to let us meet Brad.’”
He looked up. “Did you see this
went to Allan and Sally also?”
Kimmy nodded. “Wonder what that’s
all about, but it sounds like fun. You good to go?”
Mark picked up one of the cupcakes
and the lighter, already reaching for the candles. “Always up for steaks on the
grill with our friends.”
Saturday night, they pulled up to
Helen and Ray’s farmhouse and parked behind Allan’s truck. The porch light was
on, and the windows glowed warm against the cold. Greetings were exchanged all
around—hugs, handshakes, smiles—and the conversation naturally centered first
on Brad, who slept right through it all, completely unaware of how admired he
was, his little hand clutching the white clown blanket like it was the most
important thing he owned.
Before long, the talk shifted to
Sally’s impending delivery.
She shifted a little in her seat
and looked at Kimmy, nervous but trying to smile. “But… how bad does it hurt?”
Kimmy opened her mouth, but Helen
beat her to it with a gentle laugh. “Honey, let me tell you something—people
will tell you how wonderful it is, but the truth is, it is… ummm…
uncomfortable, right Kimmy?”
Kimmy nodded, smiling in
recognition.
“But,” Helen went on, “if it were
really that bad, there wouldn’t be so many people in the world. My kids were
born a long time ago, but I remember being so focused on bringing them into the
world that the discomfort wasn’t really what was on my mind. You, Kimmy?”
Kimmy looked at Sally with real
care in her eyes. “It’s true. It’s not a pleasant thing, but you’re so focused
on bringing your baby into the world. And…” she turned to Mark and patted his
hand, “…you’ll have Allan there. I can’t tell you how much having Mark’s hand
on my shoulder, or holding my hand, made me feel like I could do it.”
Mark smiled and kissed Kimmy’s
cheek, and Sally seemed to breathe a little easier.
Helen glanced at Ray. “Well, this
would be a good time for our idea, right?”
Ray slowed his rocker and leaned
forward. “Yep. Give it to ’em, honey.”
All four of them turned to Helen,
who smiled gently. “Now, Sally, I know once your little girl comes along, at
some point you’ll need to go back to work, right?”
Sally nodded.
Helen turned to Mark and Kimmy.
“And you two—be honest. Having that little one twenty-four-seven is a lot,
right?”
Mark and Kimmy looked at each
other, that silent conversation passing between them. “Yes,” Mark said
carefully, “it’s full-time. But that’s parenting, right?”
Helen raised a finger. “See,
here’s the thing that’s a little different for you two compared to Allan and
Sally. They’ll get to go to work and still be adults, not just parents. You two
don’t really get a break.”
Mark and Kimmy exchanged another
look. This time there was a quiet recognition in it. “That’s… true,” Mark
admitted.
Helen reached over and took Ray’s
hand. “So here’s what we’d like to offer. We’d like to be your daycare for the
little ones for the next few years. We can handle babies—we don’t think we
could chase them around when they’re older—but as little ones? We’d love to
have them here. Love to spoil them. Love to keep an eye on them.”
Sally looked at Kimmy, and Kimmy
looked back. Both of them smiled.
Ray nodded. “We wouldn’t want any
money. We’d just be happy to have the joy of little ones in the house. And you
two,” he said, pointing to Mark and Kimmy, “…could have some ‘us time.’ And you
two,” he added, nodding toward Allan and Sally, “…won’t have to worry when you
go back to work.”
And just like that, it was
decided. Starting the next week, Brad would stay at Helen and Ray’s from
mid-morning until early afternoon. And when Jillian arrived, she’d join him.
On the drive home, Kimmy broke the
quiet first. “You think it’s okay, right?”
She looked instinctively into the
back seat at Brad, sleeping peacefully, blanket tucked up under his chin. Her
fingers drifted to her necklace, finding the little gold hearts, and then she
looked at Mark.
Mark took a long breath. Kimmy
knew that look. He’s thought about this. He has a real opinion.
“I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t
say the thought had already crossed my mind,” he said. “But where to take
Brad—that’s what worried me. I didn’t have any good ideas, so I never brought
it up. This just seems… ideal. But are you okay with it? And don’t say yes
because you think I want you to. I want to know how you really feel.”
Kimmy was quiet for a moment. Then
she touched her bracelet and looked back at Brad again. “I feel…” She
hesitated. “I feel guilty saying this…”
Mark reached over and took her
hand. “Go ahead, baby. Complete honesty. No secrets, remember?”
She drew in a breath. “I love
being a mom,” she said softly. “But… I do miss us. There. I said it. Is that
awful?”
She looked at him, anxious,
searching his face.
Mark smiled at her, warm and
steady. “No. I feel the same. Nobody loves that little boy like I do—except
you—but I do. I love him. And I love you. I miss us too.” He paused. “And I’ve
been thinking about something else.”
Kimmy smiled. My husband. The
man with a plan.
“I think we should reach out to a
couple of your teacher friends,” he said, “find one or two teens they really
trust, and set up a weekly date night. Make it a rule. Even if it’s just a
quick bite or a movie—or sometimes a big dress-up night. How does that sound?”
Kimmy slipped her arm through his
and leaned her head on his shoulder. “It sounds perfect. We’re always on the
same page. And you always have the best plans. Yes. Yes to all of it.”
And the car rolled on, quiet and
warm, carrying three people who were learning, together, how to be parents—and
still be them. 💛
Hot Child In The City
Mark pulled into Wawa two days
before Valentine’s Day and spotted Allan leaning against his truck, hands
wrapped around a coffee cup, breath fogging in the cold morning air. They
walked inside together, the familiar rhythm of it—Mark filling his cup, grabbing
the paper with Kimmy’s puzzle folded inside, the small rituals that had become
part of his mornings.
They stood in the parking lot for
a moment, shoulders hunched against the chill, quietly sipping.
“So,” Allan said at last, “should
I be nervous?”
Mark smiled. “Well… I’d be nervous
if you didn’t have something for Sally for Valentine’s Day.”
Allan chuckled. “Got that covered.
You know what I mean. The baby.”
Mark set his cup down on the hood
and put a hand on Allan’s shoulder. “First—you’ll be great. Second, you love
her. That’s the whole thing. Be there. Period.”
Allan looked at him, something
clicking into place. “How did I not see this… that’s you and Kimmy’s secret
weapon.”
Mark nodded. “Yep.”
“You love her so much you never
let her forget it. And she does the same.”
Mark smiled softly. “From the
beginning, we just… always choose us. First. Always.”
Allan let out a slow breath.
“Wow.”
“You’ve got this,” Mark said.
“Just let Sally know every day you choose her. The rest comes easy.”
They clicked cups and headed off,
each back into his own day.
Mark walked in and found Kimmy
alone on the sofa. He glanced down the hall, then back at her. “Where’s Brad?
Isn’t he usually up by now?”
Kimmy’s fingers were twisting
around her bracelet. “He is… I went back and looked. He’s still sleeping.”
Something in her voice made Mark
set his coffee and the paper down without another word. He walked quickly down
the hall and pushed the door open just enough to hear Brad’s breathing.
At first, everything looked right.
The clown blanket was clutched in his little hand. His chest rose and fell
steadily.
Then Mark noticed the hair—matted.
He bent down and pressed his hand to Brad’s forehead. The heat startled him.
He scooped Brad up immediately.
“Get your coat. We’ve gotta go.”
Kimmy was already there, coat in
hand, eyes shining. “Oh no… what’s wrong? Is he—”
“He’s sleeping,” Mark said
quickly, forcing calm into his voice. “But he’s burning up. We’re going to the
clinic. I’m not guessing.”
A tear slipped down Kimmy’s cheek.
“I should have… I didn’t…”
Mark caught her shoulders and
looked straight into her eyes. “No. He seemed fine to me too. You couldn’t have
known. We just go take care of him. Together.”
She nodded, wiping her cheek.
“Right. We’ve got this. I’ll ride in the back.”
The waiting room felt too quiet
and too loud at the same time. Brad grew fussier the longer they waited. Kimmy
paced, rocking him, whispering to him, trying to soothe him.
“This is so not like him,” she
said, her voice tight.
Mark stroked Brad’s head. Brad’s
eyes were red, but when he looked up at Mark, he stopped crying and just stared
at him, confused.
“Brad?” the nurse called.
The exam felt endless. When the
doctor finally turned back to them, his voice was calm and steady.
“You did the right thing bringing
him in. He’s just running a fever. It’s very common. We gave him some
Pedialyte—he needs fluids. And here’s liquid baby aspirin. Half a dropper every
four hours.”
Kimmy nodded, absorbing every
word. Mark’s hands stayed firm on her shoulders.
“But he’s fine, right?”
“Yes,” the doctor said with a
reassuring smile. “Just fine. Do the same if it happens again. He should be
back to himself by tomorrow.”
By the time they got home, both of
them were wrung out. They moved through the day in a blur, checking on Brad
constantly, listening for every sound.
That night, Kimmy crawled into bed
and curled into Mark. “That was quite a day,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. She felt his
shoulders shaking. She turned his face toward hers and saw the tears.
“Oh, baby…”
“I was so scared,” he said
quietly.
She pulled his face into her neck
and held him. “You were amazing. I couldn’t have been brave if you hadn’t been
steady.”
He gave a small, broken laugh.
“Just a big faker.”
She held him until his breathing
evened out. “He’s lucky to have you. And I’ve always been the luckiest girl in
the world.”
Valentine’s Day came bright and
quiet. Brad was back to himself, kicking on the floor, rattling his toy.
“That’s Mommy’s flowers,” Mark
told him when the knock came. “She’s gonna love that you got them for her.”
When Kimmy came home, she found
Mark feeding Brad. She stood there for a second just watching them.
“Look at my two boys,” she said
softly.
Brad’s one eye opened ever so
slightly and when Kimmy reached her finger down to touch Brad’s chin he
instinctively reached up and grabbed it as he finally gave in to sleep.
Mark took Brad to bed and as he
put him down he heard a soft squeal of delight.
He thought with a smile, “That would be the flowers.” He came out and found Kimmy waiting for him. She threw her arms around him and kissed
him. “Happy Valentines Day! I love the flowers from my boys!”
Mark smiled. “After you shower I have something for
you….well for us.” Kimmy leaned back
with her arms still around Mark’s neck.
“What did you do?” she asked mischievously.
“Just a little something for my
girl….just because, and it IS Valentine’s Day.”
Kimmy skipped back to the bedroom
and as she showered she kept thinking, “How…how does he do this over and
over?” She decided to wear something a
little nicer, something Mark would like and she looked in her closet and then
saw it….the white sweater with the missing bottom button. She’d never sewn it back on because Mark had
said she looked “hot” in it. She
smoothed it down and looked at herself in the mirror. The flash of her now flat belly pleased her
and she thought, “He’ll like this.”
Mark’s breath caught. “Come here.”
She climbed onto his lap and
kissed him, slow and familiar and full of everything they’d just been through.
She rested her head on his
shoulder as he rubbed her back for a beat then said softly. “And what is this pray tell?”
Mark had a soft look in his eyes,
he started, “I just thought…” and the words choked for a minute. He cleared his throat and murmured, “Such a
Hallmark kind of guy…” and Kimmy kissed his forehead, “And I just LOVE you for
that…now what is this…you’re killing me!”
Mark chuckled and said, “Just open
it, you’ll see.” Kimmy climbed off Mark
and sat cross legged on the floor between Mark’s leg and tore the paper off
furiously. A brown box was under the
paper, completely generic.
Kimmy turned and gave him a
curious look. “Keep going” he said
softly and she could see the soft romantic look behind his smile. She felt her heart skip a beat. He watched her open it, watched the moment
her breath stopped, watched the tears come.
Inside the wooden frame were the words “I ❤️ US.” and the heart was a
collage of a dozen pictures of the two of them.
The top left was the photo from the night they’d met before she asked
him for that one last drink. The others
were highlights from their life to this point, including one right near the
middle of the proud parents holding their new born.
The pictures. Their whole story.
The night it started. The trips. The laughter. The baby.
She climbed back onto his lap,
holding it like it might disappear.
“How do you always do this?” she
whispered.
He smiled into her hair. “Because
I choose us.”
Mark’s words settled between them
like something warm and steady, not loud, not dramatic—just true. Kimmy didn’t
answer right away. She simply held the frame against her chest and tucked her
face into his shoulder, breathing him in, letting the quiet do what it always
did with them: make everything feel right again.
Outside, the afternoon light
slipped through the window and laid itself gently across the room. Somewhere
down the hall, Brad shifted in his sleep and then grew still again. The house,
which had felt too tight with worry only the night before, seemed to exhale. They stayed that way for a long moment, not
rushing, not needing to say anything else. There would be dinners and diapers
and small worries and big plans ahead—there always were—but for now there was
only this: two people, a shared history, and the quiet certainty that whatever
came next, they would meet it the same way they always had.
Together.
Oh What a Night
The soft, rhythmic babbling coming
through the monitor tugged Mark out of sleep. He reached over on instinct and
turned it off before the sound could grow loud enough to wake Kimmy. She
shifted beside him, murmured something that might have been his name, then
wrapped both arms around her pillow and settled again, her breathing smoothing
back into that slow, even cadence he loved to listen to in the dark.
Mark lay still for a second,
smiling to himself. Good. Stay asleep, beautiful.
He slipped out of bed and padded
down the hall, the house wrapped in that quiet, late-night stillness that felt
almost sacred since Brad had arrived. In the back room, Brad’s eyes were
already wide and bright, his little legs kicking with purpose as soon as he saw
his dad.
“Well hello there, little man,”
Mark whispered. “Would you like a snack?”
Brad answered by waving both arms
and letting out an enthusiastic string of babbles, the clown blanket kicked
halfway off his legs.
“Okay, okay,” Mark chuckled
softly, scooping him up. “Message received. Coming right up.”
Brad patted at Mark’s shoulder as
he carried him to the kitchen, his small hands opening and closing like he was
conducting an invisible orchestra. Mark moved on autopilot—measure, warm, test
the bottle—muscle memory now, but still with that quiet awe that this small
routine belonged to them.
A few minutes later Brad was
holding the bottle with both hands, drinking with serious concentration, his
eyes never leaving Mark’s face. Mark tucked the clown blanket around Brad’s
legs to keep off the chill that still lingered in the late February air.
“You know,” Mark whispered, “I see
your mommy in your eyes. You know that, right?”
Brad let go of the bottle just
long enough to gurgle something that sounded very much like an opinion.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mark
said with a grin, guiding the bottle back.
Brad finished, fought sleep like
it was a personal challenge, then finally lost the battle—his eyelids
fluttering, then closing for good.
“I know, buddy. You’re trying to
stay up,” Mark murmured. “But we’ll play tomorrow.”
He laid Brad back in the crib and
watched as, without fully waking, the little hand found the clown blanket and
curled into it. Mark stood there for a moment longer than necessary, letting
the quiet soak in, then headed back to bed.
He slipped in carefully. Kimmy
shifted, released her pillow, and immediately found him, tucking herself into
his side like she’d been doing it forever.
“He doing okay?” she murmured,
half-asleep.
“All good, baby,” Mark whispered,
kissing the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”
He thought he had just closed his
eyes when the buzz of his phone cut through the quiet. Kimmy’s head lifted
instantly.
“Is that the monitor? Is he okay?”
she asked, suddenly wide awake.
Then her own phone buzzed on the
nightstand.
They looked at each other, that
shared, unspoken something’s happening passing between them. Both
reached for their phones. Mark’s screen lit up with Kimmy’s smiling
Christmas-morning photo—the one with the red bow on her head—and the time: 2:11
a.m. The text was from Allan.
On our way to the hospital!
Mark read it at the same moment
Kimmy did.
She looked up at him, already
smiling. “Let’s go!”
Mark sat up and gently touched her
arm. “Let me. You stay here, let Brad sleep, and you try to sleep. There’s
nothing you can do while the delivery’s going on. By the time Brad wakes up,
you can bring him. You won’t miss anything.”
Kimmy pouted, just a little. “But
I want to be there for Sally.”
Mark smiled. “Do you remember your
delivery? Were you thinking about anything besides the baby coming?”
She laughed softly. “Okay… you’re
right. I was a little preoccupied. But I do remember thinking one thing.”
Mark was already pulling on his
jeans. “And what’s that, my sweet?”
She settled back into the pillow
but gave him that look—the one that always got him. “I remember you.
Right there with me.”
“Always, baby,” Mark said, leaning
down to kiss her. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Be careful on the roads,” she
called softly after him. “Please.”
He popped his head back into the
doorway. “I will. And I’ll text you when I get there.”
“That’s a good boy,” she said,
closing her eyes again.
Dawn was just starting to break
when Mark was on his second cup of coffee in the waiting room, the sky outside
shifting from dark blue to pale gray. Nearly two hours later, the door opened
and Allan came striding in, tired and glowing all at once.
Mark stood and grabbed his hand,
pumping it with a grin. “Congrats, brother.”
“Wow,” Allan said, still a little
breathless. “That was amazing. Sally was incredible. I’m exhausted. Did the
whole thing make you this tired?”
Mark laughed. “Didn’t we tell you?
Not long after Brad was born, I fell asleep right on the side of Kimmy’s bed.
You’d have thought I gave birth.”
They both laughed, that shared,
relieved kind of laughter that only comes after something big and wonderful.
A little while later, Mark heard
Kimmy’s voice coming down the hall, Brad tucked into the crook of her arm.
“Is she here? Did it go okay?
How’s Sally?”
Kimmy hugged Allan first, then
leaned up and kissed Mark softly on the cheek.
“Here, let me,” Mark said, taking
Brad. “Hey, buddy… your girlfriend is here.”
When Mark went in to see Sally,
she looked tired and radiant all at once, that unmistakable glow of someone who
had just done something extraordinary.
“You look amazing, Sal,” he said
gently. “And she’s gorgeous. Look at those blue eyes—that’s all you.”
Later, Mark and Kimmy walked out
to the parking lot together. The sun had fully cleared the trees now, the
morning light fresh and clean, like the world had decided to start the day
over.
It felt, to both of them, like the
kind of day that would always be remembered—not for noise or celebration, but
for the quiet, full-hearted certainty that life, somehow, just kept getting
bigger and better.
Happy, Happy Birthday To You
Mark opened the door at the first
knock and smiled. “Hi Sandy—we’re almost ready.”
Kimmy came out from the bedroom in
a crimson blouse and khaki slacks, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“So, I left you a list on the counter, but honestly, it’s all what we talked
about when you came by. Brad’s schedule, where the bottles are, how he likes to
go down. Any questions?”
The teenager shook her head, a
little nervous but clearly excited. “I really appreciate you giving me a chance
to do this. Heading into my junior year… I’m going to have a lot of expenses.
This helps. And, you know—especially since you want to do a date night every
week.”
Mark walked over and set Brad into
his swing, giving it a gentle push. “He seemed to like you when you were here
last week, so I think you two will be just fine. And you’ve got our cell
numbers—we’re only about twenty minutes away.”
As Mark pulled out of the
driveway, Kimmy twisted in her seat to look back toward the house. “He’ll be
fine, right? She’s good with him, right? It’s okay for us to… do this?”
Mark rested his hand on her thigh,
giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Yes, baby. And yes, I’m a little anxious too.
But this is good for everyone. We get some ‘us’ time, Brad gets a new person in
his world, and we get to help Sandy out. That’s a pretty good trade all
around.”
At the restaurant, they’d just
relaxed enough to order when Kimmy’s phone chimed.
“It’s Sandy,” she said, a little
breathless—and then she smiled. “Look, baby.”
She turned the phone toward him.
It was a selfie of Sandy holding Brad while he took his bottle, his little eyes
bright and curious as he stared at the screen.
Kimmy let out a long breath she
hadn’t realized she was holding. “I feel so much better. I might have to ask
her to do that every time, because… well, you know.”
Mark slid a little closer and put
his arm around her. “Yes. I know. And if there were a poll for best mom in
North Carolina, you’d win it by a mile. Actually… there’s another poll you’d
win too.”
Kimmy blushed—because she already
knew where he was going—and thought, He’s so sweet… and I still love hearing
it. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “And what poll would that
be?”
Mark kissed the top of her head.
“Hottest mom in North Carolina. Landslide.”
She laughed, still blushing, just
as the plates arrived.
It turned out to be the perfect
evening—the kind that felt like a gift because it was so simple. When they got
home, Brad was sound asleep and Sandy was working on her homework at the
kitchen table.
“All good,” she said as Mark
handed her the cash.
“Thanks so much,” Kimmy said.
“We’ll see you next week?”
“You bet,” Sandy replied, grabbing
her bag.
Mark walked her to the door. “Text
us if anything comes up. See you next week.”
After he turned out the lights and
headed down the hall, he found Kimmy walking around the foot of the bed in the
shirt. He stopped.
Not only was it hanging loose the
way he loved—but not a single button was fastened.
He froze for a second.
Kimmy smiled. “I was thinking
there’s only one right way to end our first date night. What do you think,
baby?”
Mark reached for the light, turned
it off, and left the monitor glowing softly in the dark.
The warmth of a perfect night
filled the room long after the lights were out, until they finally joined Brad
in a deep, quiet sleep.
The warm August sun beat down on
the front porch as Mark walked out with the morning coffee and the newspaper.
Brad looked up from his high chair, held up a Cheerio, and cried, “Dada!”
Then he picked up his little
plastic cup, dumped them all out, and concentrated fiercely on his new system:
two in, eat one… two in, eat one.
Kimmy laughed as she watched him.
Mark leaned down, kissed the top
of her head, set down the coffee and paper. “Morning, baby. Looks like
someone’s got a big day planned.”
She took his hand and smiled.
“He’s getting so big. And I think he’s going to love his birthday party this
weekend. Don’t you?”
Mark bent down and kissed Brad’s
head. Brad looked up at him with both eyes and reached up with both hands,
grinning.
“Morning, little man,” Mark said,
lifting him out of the chair. “Want to go see the trees and the water?”
Brad’s eyes lit up. He pointed
toward the door and cried, “Wawa… wawa!”
Mark nodded at Kimmy, who picked
up the coffees, and they headed out together.
Brad settled into his swing on the
porch while Mark and Kimmy sat beside him on the sofa. Kimmy looped her arm
through Mark’s. Brad pointed toward the creek.
“Wawa… momma… wawa.”
“I see it, honey,” Kimmy said
softly. “The water. There it is.”
Mark pulled her a little closer.
“Pretty smart little guy. You know, he takes after you—he’s got that
puzzle-solving brain already.”
Kimmy looked at him, her eyes
warm. “Could it get any better?”
Mark shook his head, gazing out at
the path by the creek. He lifted his cup and pointed. Kimmy’s eyes misted—she
knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Who would have thought,” Mark
said quietly, “just a little less than two years ago, we were walking right
there. And with a whisper… you changed our world.”
Kimmy kissed his cheek. Brad
watched them, then laughed and grabbed the tray of his swing before turning
back to the water.
“I remember every moment of that
walk,” she said.
Mark smiled. “I really thought
that day—it couldn’t get any better. And now…” He nodded toward Brad.
They sat quietly, two heartbeats
blending into three.
That afternoon, Allan and Sally
arrived with Jillian.
Brad kicked his feet on his clown
blanket and made a sound that came out something like “Juju.” Jillian’s eyes
brightened.
Mark shook Allan’s hand. Sally
hugged Kimmy.
Allan dropped to one knee. “How’s
the birthday boy?”
Brad laughed. “Lan… Lan!” and
grabbed Allan’s finger.
“Whoa,” Allan laughed. “This kid’s
got a grip!”
Sally set Jillian in the swing and
started her bottle. “Can I help in the kitchen, honey?”
“Sure,” Kimmy said. “You boys okay
out here?”
“Totally under control,” Mark said
with a thumbs-up.
In the freezer, Kimmy pointed.
“His first birthday cake. Ice cream. I think he’s going to love it.”
Across the top, in blue icing: Brad
– One Year Old.
“A year,” Sally said softly.
“Where did the time go?”
Kimmy smiled. “And Jillian—she’s
growing so fast. I think she’s bigger than Brad was at six months.”
Sally glanced toward the living
room. “Look at our two big boys. They love this dad thing, don’t they?”
Later, with Helen and Ray there,
everyone gathered around the table. Brad sat in his high chair, Allan held
Jillian, Sally and Kimmy stood on either side, and they all sang Happy
Birthday as Mark brought out the cake.
Sally stepped back, snapping
photos—caught Brad smiling once—and then the shot, when he planted both
hands straight into the ice cream.
The cold surprised him.
Mark dipped a finger into the cake
and licked it.
Brad looked at Kimmy, then shoved
both messy hands into his mouth.
Everyone laughed.
As the sun set and the forest
settled into evening, both babies were asleep inside. The monitor sat on the
table. The six adults sat around the fire pit with glasses of wine.
“I’ve got an idea,” Sally said.
Helen nodded as Sally explained.
“Once the kids start running around, I know it’ll be harder for you to watch
them. I was thinking… I could take a break from teaching, watch Brad and a
couple of other infants. Make a little spending money.”
Kimmy smiled. “We’d want to pay.
And… we do like our couple of hours every day, don’t we, honey?”
Mark nodded.
And so the plan took shape—Sally
would take over daycare when school started, and Helen would be the backup.
The night grew quiet. The creek
whispered. The fire crackled.
Friends talked softly.
And inside, two small lives
slept—while six hearts sat warm around the fire, grateful for how full the
world had become.
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