A Mother's Secrets (Parent Portal 4)

He was up for every one of them.

He ran hard. Farther than normal. Trying to decide which of the three bedrooms upstairs in the new house, in addition to the master, would be best for a nursery. The one closest to him made the most sense. But it was smaller and on the east side of the house, which meant sun every single day. A lot of the day. Might be too hot. The one at the opposite end of the hall had only one northern exposure window. But it was too far away. And purple. He’d have to paint, multiple times, before buying furniture.

The one in the middle had an odd alcove in it to make room for the shower in the hall bathroom. And the closet in there was miniscule. Wouldn’t matter so much when his little one was a baby, but as it grew...

He picked up his pace, careful to keep enough distance between his feet spewing sand and beach patrons. Rooms, decorating weren’t his specialties. They’d been Emily’s. And critical to making a house into a home. Otherwise you just had a building with stuff in it, Emily used to say.

The building mattered, too, he’d tried to tell her. The house they’d bought had had her touches, but still hadn’t felt like home.

But without her touches, would the new house feel like one?

They’d been so good together because, other than buying the house, they’d always found solutions that came from both of them. Their differences, their strengths, had complemented each other, a

nd only together had they found the perfect whole.

He’d given in on the house, though they’d both eventually realized the mistake of his having done so. And Emily had loved the place. He wasn’t sure he’d have moved her away from it.

One thing was for sure, he was glad they’d bought it. That she’d lived out her last years in a place she’d loved.

Slowing, he stepped hard in the sand for a few steps, his velocity trying to carry him as his legs were stopping.

What in the hell was he doing?

Breathing hard, he leaned over, his hands on his knees.

He and Emily had made embryos so that they could raise a child, have a family, together. Both of them—each contributing their differences, their strengths, to a happy, healthy result. Making up for each other’s shortcomings. Having each other’s backs.

He couldn’t even figure out which room to put the crib in without her.

How had he possibly thought he could raise their child alone?

Sitting down, he faced the ocean, forearms resting on raised knees.

We’re having a baby. He looked toward the setting sun.

And started to calm. Watching the horizon, its endlessness. Waves that continued to move. Day and night. Always. Without stopping. Ever.

Like the love he shared with Emily.

We’re having a baby.

He wasn’t doing it alone. He was doing it differently than he and Em had imagined, but she’d be there. In the genetics of the child they’d created together. A child that would bring parts of Emily into their new home. Perhaps making up for some of his failings.

And if not, they’d still be fine.

“We’re having a baby,” he said out loud, softly, just enough to hear his voice. To know it was real.

Maybe it was staring toward the sun that brought tears to his eyes. Maybe it was the acute loneliness and the love he still felt for his wife.

Maybe it was gratitude for what life was bringing to him.

All he knew for sure was that he had to cancel dinner.

And call Tom.

He and Emily were having a baby.

Chapter Eleven