Page 101 of Delayed Intention
I walked through the Elkhorn Ave entrance of Inkwell and Brew to grab our coffee orders before we scout out a picnic bench along the riverwalk. The cashier has a treat for Ginger, who sits obediently next to the stroller—the ever-present guardian of her little sister. We wait for Lily while I gaze at Georgia. It warmed up a little so I gently removed her green knit cap. I know I’m biased but she is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen, with ginormous cheeks, a button of a nose and auburn hair sticking out in sparse tufts around her head.
Sensing my wife is nearby, I’m sure I still have a ridiculous grin on my face when I look up and see her approaching. In her green scrubs and sweatshirt, carting two lunch bags in one hand, and tucking her cell into the breast pocket with the other, I can tell she’s just snapped what has to be the 800th photo of Georgia and me.
“Stalker.” I say, greeting her with a kiss.
She shrugs. “You look hot. The baby’s a nice accessory on you.” She winks, and I kiss her again.
“Let’s eat, I’m starving.”
We amble over to a table, and Lily holds up two bags, “Tuna on a roll or on a bagel?”
“I’ll take the bagel.”
She shoves a bag at me while pulling the stroller to her side of the table.
“It’s so hard not to wake her up.”
“At least eat first Lily.”
“Fine,” she rolls her eyes at me.
“Besides, if you’d seen her an hour ago you wouldn’t feel that way. It was as if a demon had possessed our sweet girl. Face red, screaming—her face was splotchy until about ten minutes ago.”
“What was it?”
“Just needed to be heard. Wasn’t wet, didn’t burp, had tagless clothing on…”
“Slander. She’s an angel.”
“Right, we’ll see what you have to say about that when she has her daily colic spell from 4:00 - 4:30.”
“Ah, I might be late getting home from the clinic—should be home by 4:35.”
“Very funny.” I deadpan.
We sit like that, and eat together as a family. Eventually Georgia does wake up and I watch my wife hold our daughter. Talk to her while hummingbirds hover over the Fall River in the background. The river rushes by and all of us, together, is more than I ever could’ve imagined.
“How was the morning clinic?” I ask Lily after returning with a refill of coffee for her.
“Busy as usual, twisted ankles from inexperienced hikers, dehydration since people forget that doesn’t just happen when it’s hot and altitude sickness. Nothing serious.”
“Busy afternoon?”
“Not too full, I should be home on time.”
“Okay, I was thinking we could hike tomorrow if you’re up for it?”
“If we all sleep at least five hours in a row tonight, you’re on.”
Lily gives Georgia a kiss on the head, side eyes me while she puts the little green cap back on, and places her back in the stroller. I stand, having packed up our containers and tossed them into the bottom of the stroller. I grab my wife by the waist and draw her toward me.
“I love you, wife.”
“I love you too.”
“Will this ever stop feeling like a dream?”
“I expect it will, from about 4:00 - 4:30.” She laughs, and I kiss her fully, trying to tell her with my body all the things I don’t say aloud so I don’t sound ridiculous.
