Page 26 of Frosty in Flannel
“That’s driving me insane.” But she was smiling as she said it, and when she came back to the couch, she let me help her sit. “I love you. You know I love you. But if you ask me one more time if I’m having contractions, I’m going to smother you with a pillow.”
“Noted.” I sat beside her, my hand automatically going to her belly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” Her voice softened, and she covered my hand with hers. “I promise. And when I’m not okay, you’ll be the first to know.”
The baby kicked under my palm—hard—and I felt that same rush of wonder and terror I’d been feeling for months now.
There was a person in there. A tiny person that was half me and half Libby. A person who was going to depend on us for everything.
Holy shit.
“You’re spiraling,” Libby said gently.
“I’m not—”
“Beckett.”
I exhaled. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“Talk to me.”
I looked at her—my wife of six months, glowing and beautiful despite the swollen ankles and constant complaints about heartburn—and felt my chest tighten.
“What if I’m not good at this?” The words came out slowly. “What if I mess it up?”
“Mess what up?”
“Being a dad.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “I’ve never—I don’t know how to do this, Libby. What if I can’t—”
“Stop.” She shifted to face me as much as her belly would allow. “Listen to me. You are going to be an amazing father.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” Her hand cupped my scarred jaw. “I’ve watched you with Wildfire. With every damaged, scared animal that comes through here. You have more patience than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re gentle and strong and you never give up on things that matter.”
“A baby’s not a horse.”
“No, but the principle’s the same. You show up. You’re consistent. You love them even when it’s hard.” She smiled. “And you’re already doing all of that. You’ve been doing it since the day we found out I was pregnant.”
I thought about the past nine months. The way I’d read every parenting book I could find. Set up the nursery three times because I wanted it perfect. Gone to every appointment, held her hand through every ultrasound, felt my heart stop every time we heard that tiny heartbeat.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe I could do this.
“I just want to protect you both,” I said quietly. “Keep you safe.”
“I know. And you will.” She laced her fingers with mine. “But you also have to trust that I know my body. That I’ll tell you when I need help. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Now come here.” She pulled me closer, and I carefully wrapped my arms around her. “I need you to relax, because your anxiety is making me anxious, and that’s not good for either of us.”
I pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
We sat like that for a while, and slowly I felt some of the tension ease out of my shoulders.
