Caeden sat back and pulled me into the V of his legs. He rubbed his hands soothingly up and down my arms to calm me. It wasn’t necessary, but I liked the feel of his hands on me, so I didn’t complain.
I watched as they all held the pale blue matching sets of socks and hats and the realization hit them.
“A boy? You’re having a boy?” Amy beamed, clutching the small items tightly in her hands like we might snatch them away at any second.
“We’re having a son,” Caeden confirmed as he pressed his lips against my cheek.
“Do you have a name picked out?” My mom asked. “Or have you not decided yet?”
“Do you want to tell them?” Caeden whispered in my ear.
I nodded. Looking at my dad, I placed my hand against my stomach, “We’re naming him Beaumont, but calling him Beau.”
“That’s—that’s—thank you,” he blubbered. “That means a lot. I’m glad the Beaumont name is carrying on in some way.”
“What about a middle name?” Amy asked.
I shrugged. “We haven’t talked about that. But Beaumont Williams seems like such a big name already, does he really need a middle name too?”
“That’s true,” Amy agreed. “Beau is a great name.”
“I think so too,” I smiled up at Caeden. Love reflected back to me from his eyes—a love that not many people experienced—the selfless kind.
After all the presents were unwrapped, we cleaned up the mess of paper…or tried to. Bryce kept making a bigger mess. Sometimes I swore the guy was still five years old. He might have been a goof, but I knew his sense of humor probably camouflaged his demons.
The evening past quickly and Amy made a delicious dinner while Gram baked cupcakes. I hadn’t had one of her cupcakes in so long and ended up eating four before Caeden could stop me.
Sitting around the roaring fire with my whole family made me so incredibly happy. This was the stuff dreams were made of—only I was living it.
Thirteen.
Sophie
I stood in the middle of the room that would soon be Beau’s. Painters rolled a beige color onto the walls since we’d opted not to go with the traditional pale blue.
I couldn’t believe that in a few months, my son would be in this room.
“Soph!” Caeden cried, running into the room and grabbing my arm. “You shouldn’t be in here! The paint fumes!”
“You worry too much,” I sighed. “They’re using that non-toxic paint, so quit freaking out. It’s annoying.”
“I still don’t think you should be in here,” he slowly began to drag me out of the room.
Wanting to avoid an argument, I let him.
“I talked to Chris,” I told him, letting him guide me back to the bedroom. I was weak, but I wasn’t that weak. I was perfectly capable of walking on my own without falling, but Caeden believed otherwise. I think he invented stuff to worry about. In fact, I was feeling better these last few weeks. Christmas with our family had given me a much needed boost…or maybe it was the cupcakes. Those had been awfully yummy.
“Why is that important?” He asked.
“Because, she’s taking me shopping for baby stuff.”
“No, no way, not happening,” he rapidly shook his head as he released his hold on me. “You’re too weak to go shopping. Remember what happened last time? And that was months ago!”
“Caeden, I don’t care how weak I am, you’re not stopping me from going shopping for the baby. Nothing about this pregnancy has gone as expected, let me have some fun!”
He sighed, running his fingers through his too long hair. He knew there was no stopping me. He wasn’t my prison guard and he had no right to forbid me to go anywhere.
“Chris may not know the whole story, but she does know I haven’t felt well. She’ll look out for me,” I continued, slowly breaking down his walls so we could avoid a fight. “And you know I’d never do anything to jeopardize Beau. If I start to feel like it’s too much, I’ll tell Chris to bring me home.”
His resolve crumbled and I knew I’d be able to leave without an argument.
“Have fun,” he grabbed me by the nape of the neck and kissed me tenderly. “If you get too weak or feel any twinge of pain, come home,” he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
“You know I will,” I placed my hands on his chest, grasping the soft fabric of his shirt between my fingers.
He took a deep breath, wrapping me tighter in his arms. “Maybe I could go—”
“No,” I dug a finger into his ribs, “this is my girl’s day. Stay here and hang out with Nolan. Or go out and do something.”