Page 9 of The Last Trip

I’ve nearly been lulled to sleep when he slows down, then stops. Carefully, he places my feet back on the table and stands, kissing my forehead and whispering, “Now then, I’ll get you some warm tea and dinner, and we’ll get this vacation started, hmm?”

I hum in agreement, eyes still closed. “We could order pizza.”

“Pizza?” His voice is low and husky, as if I’ve suggested something for the bedroom, not the kitchen.

I nod.

“Pizza it is, then.” He kisses my head again before I hear him moving into the kitchen. He’s opening cabinets and moving things around as he says, “I brought canned sauce, so it might not be as good as I make at home.”

“Cal,” I chide, “just order pizza. You’re on vacation, too.”

He clicks his tongue. “Taking care of you relaxes me.”

I smile to myself. He’s a good man. He’ll be a good husband and a good father. I’m one of the lucky ones here, and everything that has happened today almost made me forget it.

When I open my eyes, the world around the cabin has begun to get dark, making it so I can just make out the shadow of the tree line up ahead. From here, it’s as if nothing else exists in the world. Just us. Our family. I look back over the couch to see Cal pulling the premade dough out of the package. At home, he makes everything from scratch when possible, so I know even this concession is a bit of a vacation for him.

Still, I could relax more if I knew he was relaxed.

I stand slowly, and Cal looks up to protest, but I stop him. “I’m okay. I just want to take in the view.”

One corner of his mouth upturns as he stares at me. “Best one in the world.”

I drop my head, shyness suddenly overtaking me. I’ve never felt like the most beautiful person in any given room, or the most desirable, but Cal changed all of that. He makes me feel seen and wanted and loved in a way no one ever has.

Turning away from him, I cross the room to look out the oversized windows into the dark woods surrounding us. It’s quiet here, the snow blanketing the trees and the ground. On the porch, I spot the hot tub covered in snow. There are footprints across the porch, both human and cat from the looks of it. I hope the cat has made it somewhere warm by now.

I can’t help wondering if we’ll be the type of family who has a pet someday. Though I have no experience with them, I think I’d like a cat. A puppy feels like too much work with a baby, but perhaps…

A sigh rushes out of my lungs. If I’m being honest with myself, I can’t imagine Cal ever agreeing to a pet. He likes cleanliness and order too much.

Then again, maybe this baby will change him. The smile is back, and I feel it radiating from deep inside of me. This little girl is going to have her daddy wrapped around her finger.

This pregnancy wasn’t planned, and in the beginning, it wasn’t necessarily wanted, but now I’m so grateful to Cal. He’s going to be everything a father should be, and our daughter will have the sort of childhood I dreamed about when I was growing up alone in my room while my mother worked all hours of the day and night. When babysitters came and went through what felt like a revolving door. I longed for permanence, for someone who knew my favorite foods, what I liked to play, how I needed to be comforted when I was sad or sick or tired.

My mom tried, but it wasn’t the same. She was just one person, one parent, and most kids I knew had two.

You will have two,I promise my daughter.No matter how this happened, I’ve given you that.

A sudden flicker of movement catches my attention near the edge of the house, ripping me from my thoughts. At first, I wonder if it’s an animal—a deer, most likely—but then I see their faces.

The couple from earlier. The homeowners.

My heart skips a beat, my mind trying desperately to make sense of this. Why would they be standing outside the house? What are they doing out in the snow? To get to where they are, they’d have to walk around the house and through the woods to reach the small area of yard space.

I suck in a shaky breath, and almost as if they’d heard me, their heads slowly turn. Before, they were looking at each other, their heads slightly covered by the hoods of their coats, but now they’re looking directly at me.

For several seconds we just stare at each other, frozen in a moment of fear on my part. I have no idea what they want or what they will do. I blink, trying to find my voice. “Cal.”

He doesn’t hear me, though, humming to himself as he works in the kitchen chopping something. I open my mouth, speaking louder and not breaking eye contact with them. “Cal.”

Behind me, his humming stops. “Did you say something?”

“Come here.”

The man looks at the woman, then back at me. Can they read my lips? Did they understand what I said?

“Babe?” Cal calls, still no closer to me.

---