Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
How the hell did she even sleep with all the kicking and jabbing going on in her uterus?
One time I’d skipped ahead to the birth stuff, just out of curiosity, but I felt a panic attack coming on while I read, so I’d closed the book and didn’t pick it up for a few days. It was probably better to work up to that day gradually.
The note she’d slipped inside the cover fell into my lap, and I unfolded the page and read it again.
Joe,
Thank you very much for inviting me down for the weekend, and for being my friend through all this. It means a lot to have you by my side. I know you will be an amazing dad.
Mabel xoxo
It kind of blew my mind, the faith she had in me. From the very beginning, she’d been convinced I would be good at this. Sometimes I wondered if she was just saying that or if she honestly believed it. I wasn’t sure what I’d ever done to earn that kind of trust from her, except deliver on the promise that I could put the puck in the net.
Either way, I wanted to live up to those words. For the baby, of course, but also for her.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to be great at something besides hockey.
I wanted to make her happy.
Every day, I tried to think of little things I could do for her to let her know I was thinking about her and how cool I thought she was. How beautiful and smart and kind and funny. How easy it was to be with her.
In my bags were Christmas gifts for her that were definitely over the top—not to mention the gift I was having delivered to her house. But I hadn’t been able to help myself, and it wasn’t like I couldn’t afford them.
I wasn’t sure what it all meant, this crazy need to please her, and frankly, it scared me. For so long, I’d wanted only one thing. It was so all-consuming, there hadn’t been room in my head or my heart or my fucking schedule for anything else. And I’d been fine with that. I’d liked it. I’d liked the guy I was and the life I lived.
I didn’t know this new guy all that well. He was foreign to me, with his meandering daydreams and possessive feelings and weird visions of the future that didn’t involve the game. Sometimes I even felt angry with him and wished he would just leave me alone.
But he wouldn’t give up.
My parents’ home looked and smelled the same as it always did at the holidays, and the familiarity was comforting.
The huge tree in the living room was hung with colored lights and way too many ornaments because my mother was sentimental and never threw anything away. Boughs of greenery and strings of white lights decked the fireplace mantel, the banister going upstairs, and the exterior of the house. The scent of gingerbread lingered from yesterday, when my parents had all their grandkids over to bake and decorate cookies.
I spent the early part of the day catching up with my parents, wrapping the gifts I’d brought with me, and playing with my nephew Hudson, whom Paul brought over after his nap. He was walking really well now, loved to climb and explore, and he was even talking a little bit.
“What do you think? You ready for this?” my brother asked, preventing Hudson yet again from getting his hands on a string of lights around the tree. He’d almost pulled it over twice.
“If you can do it, I can do it.” I was lying on my side on the floor, head propped in my hand.
He smirked. “How’s the pregnancy going?”
“Good. Mabel saw the doctor a couple days ago, and everything is fine.”
He nodded, moving a fragile ornament higher on the tree. “Baby kicking a lot?”
“Yeah. I got to feel it when she was in Chicago. So crazy.” I recalled the firm, warm feel of her belly under my palm and experienced a tightening in my chest. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. No, Hudson. That’s not for you.” Paul took a wrapped present and put it out of reach. “Here’s one for you.”
Hudson happily beat the wrapped gift box like a drum with his fists.
“Hope there’s nothing breakable in there,” my brother muttered. “Sorry, what was the question?”
“When did you know . . . about Alison? Or maybe how did you know?”
He glanced at me. “You mean, how did I know I wanted to marry her?”
“Yeah. Or just, like, how you felt about her.”
He exhaled. “I feel like it happened gradually, but also like it hit me all at once. I’d always liked her, but one day I looked at her, and I wanted a backyard.”