Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
When I asked Tess to decide on the city or the country, it was no surprise to me that she picked the country. We’ve been cooped up in her little cottage for almost a year while our new house was being built. Now, just days away from the birth of our first child, our place is ready for us to move in.
“What are you scheming about now?” I ask Tess, who’s staring at the space next to the staircase in the hall.
“Don’t you think this is the perfect place for the Christmas tree?”
“Christmas tree? I thought we decided to skip that this year. We have to move in and unpack, and you have a trip to the hospital in your immediate future.”
“I know. I wasn’t necessarily talking about this year. We’re going to be spending a lot of Christmas here. This is going to be the spot.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and she pouts. “I can’t wait until you don’t have to stretch so much to get around me.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s my little boy in there. And you just keep getting sexier, my love.”
“Still, I’m excited to finally meet him…and to get my body back.”
“Well, I wouldn’t get too used to that. Thomas is going to need a whole bunch of brothers and sisters to play with.” I kiss her neck.
“One baby at a time, Daddy.”
My mother stops by to see how we’re progressing. She takes one look at Tess and says, “That boy isn’t going to wait five more days. He’s ready.”
“How do you know, Mama?” I ask her.
“The women in our family have always known. I can see where he’s dropped. Look, can’t you see it?”
“Well, I hope you’re right, Marta. I’m ready to move on to the next stage of parenthood,” Tess replies.
I don’t know if my mother was right or if her putting the idea in Tess’s head got things moving, but our son, Thomas, was born on the same day we moved into our new place. We’d just gotten the bed made when Tess’s water broke. Thomas came into the world just six hours later. He’s a big boy with eyes like his mother’s and a head full of dark hair like me.
On the second night in the hospital, I leave Tess alone for a bit so I can go home and get the nursery ready for their discharge the next morning. The crib and changing table are assembled, and all of the baby supplies have been unpacked and put away. I go downstairs to make myself a snack and stare at the tall, blank space beside the staircase. Shaking my head, I put on my coat and go out to find my sweet wife the perfect Christmas tree.
Tess told me that she never appreciated the holidays until she took that first stroll to the town square drinking hot cocoa with me when we met. Now, it’s her favorite time of the year. I know she wanted to celebrate Thomas’ first Christmas in a special way so this tree is my way of letting her know that I heard her.
My mother is waiting for us at the house when we arrive. She opens the door for me and coos at the little bundle I’m carrying in the car seat. Tess is next through the door and stops just inside the threshold.
“What is it, baby girl?” I grin.
“Torin, you got me a tree?” She gasps.
“Oh, that? That was nothing, baby girl. Just a quick trip to the forest, and well, there it is.”
“It’s so beautiful. I love you, Daddy.” Her words catch in her throat.
“No, no crying today. Today is all about love and family. We can cry later,” I say as I hand off the baby to Mom and take Tess in my arms.
“You make me so happy. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“I’m glad, baby, but you’ve got that backward. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You just gave me a son.”
“Well, you helped.” She blushes. She never fails to get me worked up with her innocent little gestures. “This is happily ever after. Right, Daddy?”
“It is, sweetheart. Merry Christmas.”
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TESS
“Come on, we don’t have time,” I shout out the backdoor to the children who are playing ball when they should be getting dressed for dinner.
“Your mother said now,” Torin adds the three of them come running.
Thomas is seven now. Tania is almost six, and Tatia is four. I considered leaving them with a sitter tonight, but Marta insisted that they come. She said she wanted to show off her grandchildren at her retirement party.
“I can’t believe your mother has finally decided to retire,” I tell Torin as I straighten his tie.
“I think she just wants to have more time to spend with our kids.”