Page 185 of Season of Gifts

“No food talk, got it.”She could call in sick to work, maybe analyze the data from the latest drone test while resting on the couch.But if she wasn’t feeling better by tonight, Henry wouldn’t let her play.And as beautiful as their bathroom was, she sure as hell would not be spending the next however many hours hunched over the toilet.“Let’s try this again.”

Using the wall for balance, she hoisted herself upright and flushed.A slow shuffle brought her to the sink without more queasiness crawling up her throat.Her equilibrium had turned into some wonky funhouse shit.The room swayed as she washed out her mouth and splashed her face with cool water.Maybe she’d gotten an inner ear infection.

“Summer colds are the worst.”Brushing her teeth nearly set her off again.Mint toothpaste had never tasted so cloyingly awful.Work was for sure a no-go.Her phone was still in the nightstand drawer on silent so it wouldn’t wake Jay.Henry would be waiting for her to come down to breakfast.On a normal Monday, she’d dress for work and carry her day collar down for him to fasten—a quiet moment together before she headed out to catch the train.

With halting steps, she managed her way back to bed and gratefully sank into the mattress.The thin summer covers lay ridiculously far away, their silver sheen rising like a low stone wall between her and Jay.

“You came back.”Jay almost made it a question as he rolled over, tanned arms reaching for her, his hair mussed and his eyes blinking sleepily.One hundred percent kissable on any other morning.“Need a partner for your shower?”

“No shared shower, sorry, sweetheart.”Curling her knees to her chest, she lifted her face toward the open window beyond Jay’s shoulder.A breeze fluttered the sheers.Maybe she could sit on the roof deck and let the sun bake the illness out of her.“Don’t get too close.I don’t want you catching this little bug.”

“Bug?”In half a blink, Jay yanked himself upright against the headboard and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.“Are you okay?Does Henry know?What can I bring you?Chicken noodle soup?Cough drops?Orange juice?”

She swallowed back the disgust flooding her mouth.Toothpaste had been bad enough; orange juice would be torture.“No, nothing.It’s just my stomach.”That and the wobbles.“And my balance.I need to let work know.I’m sorry to get you out of bed early.”

“Don’t even worry about it.”Smoothing her hair back, he followed his hand with a kiss at her temple.“Alarm woulda gone off in twenty minutes anyway.”He tucked extra pillows behind her, forming a slope she could rest against, and her stomach didn’t hate it.“Let me see what Henry recommends.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”Her body hadn’t gone haywire like this in forever—the closest might’ve been the hangover she’d had that disastrous spring more than two years ago, right before their whole relationship nearly crashed and burned.But Henry served alcohol sparingly, and not at all since they’d decided—

“You rest.”Jay traveled the long way around the bed, passing the cycling clothes Henry had hung on his dressing rack, and fetched the phone she could’ve rooted for in the nightstand drawer herself.He pressed it into her hand.“We’ve got you.”

“I know.”She fought to keep her voice even over the pounding of her heart.Her text flew to the aeronautics drone team leader as Jay hustled out the door and down the stairs.She dropped the phone to the sheets and cradled her stomach.Nothing looked different—same soft, poochy tummy her husbands had kissed and celebrated all weekend on their way to more sensitive destinations.

She’d gotten the birth control implant removed from her arm a little over three months ago.She could be—they could be—and she wasn’t tracking, because Jay had won her and Henry over with his whole heartfeltlet’s not make it a chorespeech.They could save efficiency and color-coded temperature calendars for if things didn’t come easy.

But maybe, just maybe—

Parenthood would be a bigger adventure than making the leap to aeronautics.Understanding spaceflight was nothing compared to understanding a whole new person.Especially one she’d be building sight-unseen inside herself.

She stroked the curve of her belly below her navel.“We’ve got you.”

Henry

The summer sun sprawled through the kitchen and stretched its fingers into the dining room as Henry lightly buttered a small skillet.Omelet fixings waited in tidy piles on the cutting board, the pan ready to warm at the first hint of Alice descending the stairs.

The tomatoes he’d picked this morning, the first of the season from the raised bed Jay and Alice had constructed on the patio in May.After last year’s container garden on the roof deck had proved so successful, the delight of sun-warmed vegetables at their fingertips had spurred the experimental expansion in the backyard.Tonight’s menu would begin with a cucumber and radish salad—he ought to bring both down from the rooftop garden at the end of his afternoon work session.The commission was coming along quite nicely from his sketches; today’s work would add depth and personality to the facial expressions.

He whipped the eggs in a measuring cup, the fork clinking against the glass as he broke the yolks.Two eggs for Alice, with a pinch of chives from the windowsill.She ought to be on her way any moment—offering her day collar for him to clasp.

He set the eggs aside and washed his hands at the sink.Nineteen months and the spark had yet to diminish, each day brightened as he smoothed the necklace around her throat, held her close, and breathed in the crisp lightness of his wife fresh from her morning shower.

Footsteps, precisely on time.Drying his hands, he cocked his head, the better to identify the unexpected.A heavier tread, and faster as well—not Alice but Jay.Jay who ought yet be dozing in bed or waking to a kiss and shower instructions from their wife.

Henry rounded the kitchen island as Jay appeared in the hallway.Nude, striding with purpose, Jay emerged from shadow to sunlight, his hair sleep-tousled and swaying.“Henry?”

“Tell me.”That something was wrong wasn’t in question; their weekday mornings had an established rhythm, and Jay’s early appearance did not fit the pattern.Had their weekend celebration left Alice sore?Some muscle strain unnoticed in the moment but preventing her now from rising?

“Alice is queasy.She thinks it’s the flu, but—” Jay stopped before him, weight shifting foot to foot, brown eyes wide as an endless field of newly tilled earth.“Do you think—should we—I could run out to the drugstore and grab some tests.”

Heat pulsed through him, from a fire in his chest to the tingling tips of his fingers.Small hairs stood on end, the same prickling sensation at the back of his neck as when he stepped back from a painting and knew it complete.The work the three of them created would be a masterpiece, starting from these first tentative strokes.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, shaking out shaggy dark hair.“How many to be sure, you think?Three?Four?I should…” He scanned down his body, blinking as if his firm abdominals and sturdy thighs belonged to some other beautiful creature.“Get dressed before I go.”

“No need.”Henry closed the gap, replacing Jay’s hold with his own.He laced his hands and bent Jay’s head to his, willing clear-minded calm with each slow exhale.His panic might manifest later, though the therapist Danny had recommended had been exceedingly helpful in working through his fears surrounding pregnancy and parenthood.They’d all had their work to do in the last year and a half.But this part, this uncertain joy in the liminal space between not-parents and lifelong commitment to a wonder they hadn’t met yet—for this part he had thoroughly prepared.“I procured what we would need in advance.”

Jay relaxed under his grip, breathing out hard.“I know I said we shouldn’t overthink it, but I wanna do this right.Make things easy so Alice doesn’t have to worry.That massage class I took is gonna come in real handy for her back and her feet and—”

“And we ought to make certain our suspicions are correct before we begin mapping out the months ahead, my brilliant boy.”Far simpler said than done.He waded through questions of nursery design and breastfeeding schedules on his way to the initial question, the only one that mattered until they had a definitive answer: Was Alice pregnant?Only when that had been established would it be appropriate to ask about accommodations for pumping milk in her workplace and whether Mother would care to collaborate on a mural for the baby’s bedroom.Brooke’s girls adored the storybook forest she’d created for them.Gripping Jay’s shoulders, Henry spun and steered him toward the pantry.“Left side, second shelf from the top.”

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