Father Christmas

“I love you so fucking much, Astrid. I’m gonna love you and take care of you, and our babies, the way a good Daddy should.”

“If you’re taking care of me, then who’s going to take care of you?”

I study her face. She’s seriously worried about me? I chuckle. “You’re gonna make a great nurse one day, you know that?”

She can’t help smiling even as she says, “I mean it. You can’t predict how things are going to turn out. I need you to promise you’ll be careful.”

“That sounds like something your mom would say.”

“Well, what if she’s right?” The apprehension in her gaze makes my throat clench. Ever since Jamie died, Elaine has kept Astrid on a tight leash. I wonder if she’s even aware of how much her anxieties have curtailed her daughter’s ambition.

I understand where the fear comes from; I’ve lost a lot of people who were important to me. But Astrid has her own life to live. For the first time, she’s finally starting to think about what she wants out of life.

“How about we promise to take care of each other?” I cradle the side of her face. After a long pause, she smiles.

“I like that better. By the way, did you say babies? As in, more than one?”

Now it’s my turn to grin. “You don’t think I’m gonna stop taking you like this after the baby’s born, do you?”

“No...” She bites her lip. “I think I want at least two. A boy and a girl, or maybe two boys and two girls.” Her eyes widen like she’s just remembered something important. She grabs her phone from the bedside table. “Merry Christmas Eve, by the way.”

“You, too, baby. What ’cha doing there?”

“Setting an alarm so you can sneak out of my room before everyone wakes up.”

“That’s my smart cookie.” I smooth my hand across her belly.

She turns off the lamp. I roll onto my side and draw her against me with her leg draped over my hip. After fourteen weeks of restless nights, groping at the sheets, searching and not finding, finally, with my girl in my arms and our baby nestled between us, I sleep.