Page 114 of No Greater Love
My mother squeezed my shoulder. "That's what love is supposed to feel like."
An hour later, we were finally home, the car loaded with enough baby gear to supply a small daycare. Paige had claimed the passenger seat and was reading aloud from a baby name book, providing running commentary on her favorites.
"Okay, what about Oliver? That's nice and normal, but not boring. Oliver Crawford." She tried it out thoughtfully. "Oliver Newton Crawford, if we go with my middle name suggestion."
"We'll consider it," Nate said diplomatically.
"Or James? That's your middle name, Dad. James Newton Crawford?"
"Paige," I said gently, "maybe we should wait to see what he looks like before we decide?"
"But I want to start calling him something! I can't just say 'the baby' for five more months!"
"How about 'little brother' for now?" Nate suggested.
Paige considered this. "Little Brother Crawford. I can work with that."
Back home, as we carried presents and leftover cake inside, I felt that same sense of contentment that had been growing stronger every day. This house, these people, this chaotic, beautiful life we were building together—it was everything I'd never known I wanted.
"Best shower ever?" Paige asked, flopping dramatically onto the couch.
"Best shower ever," I agreed, settling beside her. "Though I think Mrs. Swanson might have spiked the punch."
"Grandma Rose definitely did," Nate said, joining us with three glasses of water. "I saw her adding something from a flask."
"Family tradition," I said with a grin. "No Williams celebration is complete without Grandma Rose's 'special ingredients.'"
Paige curled up against my side, her hand resting gently on my small bump. "Hi, Little Brother," she said softly. "Today was your first party. You're going to love being part of this family."
And as Nate settled on my other side, his arm coming around both of us, I realized that Paige was absolutely right. Our son was going to love being part of this family.
Because it was the kind of family worth fighting for, worth building, worth believing in.
The kind of family that turned a scared single father, a guarded nurse, and an abandoned little girl into something bigger and stronger and more beautiful than any of us had ever imagined possible.
The kind of family that would never, ever let him go.
epilogue: nate
Five months later
The first crycut through the quiet of the delivery room at exactly 3:47 AM, and I felt my entire world shift on its axis for the second time in my life.
"He's perfect," Dr. Martinez announced, placing our son on Tasha's chest. "Absolutely perfect."
Oliver James Crawford—Paige had won the name debate through sheer persistence and the logical argument that "Oliver Newton" flowed better than any of our other combinations—was red-faced and furious and the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"He's so little," Tasha whispered, tears streaming down her face as she touched his tiny fist. "And so mad."
"He gets that from you," I managed, my own voice thick with emotion.
"The mad part or the little part?"
"Definitely the mad part."
Paige, who'd been permitted to wait in the family lounge despite it being well past midnight on a school night, appeared in the doorway with Sophia and Mrs. Swanson flanking her like bodyguards.
"Can I see him?" she asked, her voice unusually small. "Is he okay?"
