Page 15 of Guardian

“Ugh,” she moans leaning her head against the porch post as she closes her eyes, “that feels really good. Do you see how swollen my ankles are? I love being pregnant, but I think this last trimester is going to take me down.”

“Guess I’ll have to carry you then.”

She grins. “I don’t know… these babies are getting pretty big. At my last appointment, the boys were trending at around almost four pounds, and our girl was at three.”

We found out pretty early on that we’re having triplets. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more shocked in my life. Never been happier either.

“You two look cozy.” Mrs. Robinson steps around the corner with a trellis in her gloved hand. I swear the woman doesn’t age. “If you’re tired, head home, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day.”

Daphne smiles sweetly. “No way. I’ve been sticking with this yard work so I can eat all that pasta salad I saw you making earlier. Did I see your famous pumpkin cookies too, because I’ve been craving those.”

Mrs. Robinson sweeps back a strand of hair and smiles. “You did. I even made the cream cheese glaze. I don’t make that for everyone.”

“Oh God. Let’s go eat now.” Daphne glances toward me. “Can we eat now?”

“Sure thing, kitten.” I swing her legs off my lap and stand from the steps to help my girl onto her feet. We found out she was pregnant shortly after I asked her to marry me. That was eight months ago now.

Eight months.How the hell has that been eight months? It doesn’t seem like that’s possible. Then again, some days it feels I’ve always been with Daphne, like there was never a time she wasn’t there. Maybe it’s a product of all the things we’ve accomplished this year. A new cabin by the lake, a wedding, the pregnancy, and getting to know each other on a deeper level. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted all at once.

Holding her hand, I help her up into the house, settling her in the recliner Mrs. Robinson keeps sat next to the window.

“I love that spot,” Mrs. Robinson says, preparing a plate for Daphne. “My Moose used to sit there every day after work. He’d lean back, drink a beer, and watch the birds in the feeder. When he got too old to work, he spent more time in the chair, and he’d make these figures out of wood.” She holds up a small piece of pine that’s been carved into a heart. “He made this one for me first.” She sighs and hands Daphne her plate. “Anyway, you two come up with any names for the babies?”

“I think we’re going with Cade, Andrew,” I glance toward Daphne who’s already taken a bite of pasta, “and we were thinking we’d name our little girl Robin in honor of you and Moose.”

“You’ve been such a huge part of our lives,” Daphne adds. “We really love and appreciate you so much.”

A tear falls down Mrs. Robinson’s cheek, and I pull her to my side in comfort.

“I’m almost a hundred and one years old,” she says, her voice shaking. “I’ve never heard a sweeter thing. That’s such an honor. Thank you.” She turns to hug me, then makes her way toward Daphne. “I want you to have this.” She rubs her frail fingertips over the edges of the heart. “Give it to Robin and tell her my stories.”

“No,” Daphne pulls her swollen frame up out of the chair, glancing toward me before holding Mrs. Robinson close, “we can’t take this. It’s too special. Moose made this for you.”

“He did, and I’ve enjoyed it. Someday, I won’t be here anymore, and I’d like knowing it went to a little girl who might remember my life like a fairytale.”

Yeesh. I’m not a sensitive man by any means, but this is a lot.

I make my way to my wife’s side, holding her close as she holds Mrs. Robinson. “Thank you. We’ll make sure Robin knows all about the love you and Moose shared, and how much joy you’ve brought Rugged Mountain.”

“Good,” Mrs. Robinson announces before walking back to the kitchen. “I’m sure I’ll live twenty more years, and I’ll get to tell her myself, but just in case… you have my heart.”

I can feel my wife choking back her tears. Daphne’s hormones have been wild lately. The most innocuous thing can melt her. For instance, yesterday, she cried over a missing pen that she really loved, and this morning she was in a full puddle over a sock that was too tight. Truthfully, it’s kind of cute, but I can’t say that out loud. However, at this moment, I get it. I’m feeling it as well.

“What about that playground and that pain in the ass brother of mine?” I groan, changing the subject to give her a break. “He mention anything about approving that final permit?”

Mrs. Robinson laughs and shakes her head as she sets a heavy plate of pasta onto the table. “Doesn’t matter, honey. Y’all just finished the last slide for me, and I’ve got the last few pieces coming next week. He can shut it down if he wants but I’m not gonna let him hold up production anymore. How’s he doing, anyway? I see that girl of his is in town. I think her mama is sick.”

Shit. “Does Brooks know?”

Mrs. Robinson shrugs. “If not, someone outta tell him.”

I tried looking the girl up a year or so back, but I didn’t get far given I don’t know her pen name.

“Damn. I don’t know if this is good or bad.”

“What do you mean?” Daphne sits back in the chair, twisting toward me. “I thought you said Brooks needed closure.”

“Well, he does, but it’s been like five years at this point. What if all this stirs up the past and then she leaves again? I mean, she’s only here because her mom is sick. She’s not here because she’s coming home for good, right?”

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