When she arrived at the lake, she skipped a rock across the sparkling water, remembering her and Bryce’s ice skating date, so long ago now. The previous winter, she’d become a remarkable skater, gliding over the glassy water without hesitation while their occasional babysitter, Laurie Smith, watched the kids in the cabin. She’d gotten her body back this way: marching through the snowy terrain, ice skating, and even occasionally skiing, when Bryce agreed to stay with the babies on his own—quite a feat.
In February, when the babies had been just three months old, their entire family had gotten severe colds. The babies had been particularly sick, unable to shake the shivers, the fevers, and the coughs for nearly three weeks. Kenzie had been endlessly worried, working continuously to ensure they were still breathing, that their nostrils were cleared out. Bryce had continued to chop wood, making sure the fire was aflame and powerful, that their world remained bright.
Once, when both of the babies had fallen asleep, after nearly 20 hours of being awake and coughing, Kenzie had broken down, sobbing into her palms.
“They’re getting better, Kenzie,” Bryce had told her, lifting her from her sad position on the couch and carrying her to the bed.
And, as usual, Bryce’s positive words had proved true. Finally, both Molly and Carter were better and growing like weeds, playing with their father and mother and even getting to know each other. Kenzie loved watching them interact, their big blue eyes meeting across the basinet as they giggled.
Kenzie finished her walk in an hour, feeling exhausted after carrying her growing babies so many miles. She waved to Bryce from afar, telling him to stop hammering, as the babies had just fallen asleep on her chest. Bryce placed the hammer to the side, gesturing to her, and then showed her what he’d built thus far. Weeks before, he’d dug the foundation and solidified it, and now he’d begun to build the floor and the structure, outlining where the entrance to both rooms would be.
“I know it doesn’t look like a lot—”
Kenzie cut him off by reaching for him and kissing him, thankful for his strength. “Don’t be silly. I’ll put the babies to bed, and then I’m going to pour us both some wine.”
Kenzie returned indoors, changed the babies while making sure they remained asleep, and placed them back into their bassinets. Then she poured the glasses of wine, waiting for Bryce to put his tools away. When he returned, he held a frozen slab of venison from the outdoor freezer. He smacked it onto a skillet, excitement fueling him. “We haven’t eaten like kings for a while. What do you say?”
“If we’re going to rule this mountain dynasty, we’re going to need fuel,” Kenzie said, laughing. She rose from her chair, attempting to help, but Bryce sent her back to the couch, telling her to get comfortable.
Near the couch, Kenzie found Bryce’s jean jacket, with its Blue Boys Clubhouse patch sewn back on in its original place. In the previous few months, Kenzie had begun to embroider new patches for him, learning the skill from the widow, Laurie Smith. Despite the woman’s cool demeanor, it was clear she really did love Kenzie and the babies. She would anxiously ask after them if she didn’t hear from them for a few days.
The newest patch was of Blue Blossom Park, the place that had been dedicated to Bryce’s mother and father. The patch featured the bench, several trees, and some flowers, with the words “Blue Blossom” across the top. It had been difficult to embroider, Kenzie tearing out several stitches a day and redoing them.#p#分页标题#e#
But finally, it was ready to sew onto the jacket. Kenzie slipped the thread through the needle’s eye, closing one of her own eyes to do it swiftly, without failing. As the venison sizzled in the skillet, the smell filled her nose, causing her stomach to grumble.
“That smells amazing, baby,” she called. But Bryce didn’t hear her, what with the skillet still sizzling and the radio crackling in the corner.
Kenzie finished one side of the embroidery attachment and then peered up at the mantel over the crackling fire. There sat the portrait of Bryce’s mother and father, the first Molly and Carter, holding on to Bryce himself. There was another photo beside it. Kenzie’s little family had copied the portrait, holding on to their babies in Blue Blossom Park and grinning madly, fully knowledgeable of how lucky they truly were to have one another.
In the photo, baby Carter stuck his pink tongue out, looking silly and wild, while Molly looked demure, far away, as if she were writing tiny poems in her head. Kenzie and Bryce looked tired, but happy—much like the original Carter and Molly in the first photograph. The exhaustion of being parents was constant, but they knew they were the best kind of team when together.