I motion for him to take my package. “The vacation is our gift. This is just extra.” I blink back the tears that are already forming in my eyes.
He makes a face and opens up the box. He looks inside and then gets confused. He pulls the tiny little item out of the box. It’s a onesie that has tattoo designs all over it, and on the back, it has the name Reed. “What’s this?” he asks, confused.
Then his eyes grow wide. Friday gasps when she realizes what’s going on, and the rest of the crowd rumbles and fidgets. “Is this?” he asks. He stops because he’s choked with emotion.
“Yes,” I say. Tears roll down my face, and I don’t care. I lean close to him. “You knocked me up.”
He takes me in his arms and pulls me close, and a sob rolls through him. “Are you serious?”
“Completely serious, Matt,” I say. “But wait.” I look down and shake the onesie out. A second one falls out, and Matt catches it in the air.
“Two?” he asks.
I nod, so broken by his reaction that I can’t speak. “Two tiny little heartbeats,” I say as soon as I can.
“Holy f**k,” he breathes into my ear. He squeezes me so tightly that I chirp. “I love you so f**king much,” he says to me.
He takes a second to breathe me in and compose himself, then he drops to his knees and lays his forehead on my belly. He says something quietly to his unborn children, and I’m not even sure what it was, but I do know it was between him and them. Or him and God. I’m not sure which.
Then he stands and looks up at the crowd. Half of them are as teary eyed as we are. “Do you know what this means?” he asks our friends and family.
They rumble, but he can’t hear one voice over another.
He points to Logan. “This means my sperm are better swimmers than yours, little brother!” he says. He signs while he talks, and Logan flips him off. But he’s laughing. He wraps his arms around Emily and lays his hands on the small swell of her belly.
I slap his shoulder. “What if it’s my eggs that are amazing and not your sperm?”
“What if it’s just us?” he asks quietly, and he kisses me. “Us together.”
“I told you I believe in miracles, Matt,” I say when I can finally lift my head.
“You’re my miracle,” he says. “You. Just you.”
Joey tugs on his pant leg so he scoops her up. He kisses her cheek soundly. She whispers in his ear. He turns and says, “Oh, someone has to go potty.” He holds up a finger. “I’ll be right back.” And he stops the celebration right there to take her to the bathroom.
Miracles.
Yes, I believe.