Page 141 of Good as Gold
Feeling a little dazed, I cast around for my clothes. This is the perfect Saturday. “We should find Reina a bottle and then go outside for a while.”
“Good plan,” Matteo says, leaving the room.
I hear him through the baby monitor as he lifts her from the crib. “Hey, baby girl. How was your nap?”
She babbles a response.
I’m crossing the room to turn off the receiver when I hear Matteo tell her, “Look, I got a job for you. Can you give Mommy a present for me?”
I freeze. It had occurred to me that maybe Matteo might take this opportunity to ask me if…
Okay, stop it. I quickly shut off the monitor. I’m being ridiculous. This day is perfect, and I don’t want to ruin it with weird expectations.
I head for the kitchen to pour some milk for my baby.
* * *
We head outside a half hour later. The sun is bright, and the air is warm and breezy enough to keep the bugs away. I love the sound the meadow grasses make when they rustle. The lupine is still in bloom, so there are purple flowers everywhere.
The grass closest to the house has been mowed, and I spread a blanket on the ground and set Reina in the middle of it. She doesn’t want to be contained, though. She pushes her chubby hands against the ground and rises to her unsteady feet.
“That’s it, baby girl,” Matteo says. “You can go exploring.”
She toddles to the edge of the blanket, and then hesitates. The first few times we set her in the grass, she didn’t enjoy the sensation on her toes.
But this time—after a couple of cautious steps—she decides to chance it. She picks up her pace, toddling toward the meadow grasses where white moths flutter above the wildflowers.
“You go girl,” Matteo calls encouragingly. “It's a big world out there.”
“Aw. Look.” We both grin as she lets out an excited little shriek. Luckily for the moths, she's not agile enough to catch them.
“Can you watch her for a sec?” Matteo asks. “I forgot something in the house.”
My heart gives a weird kick, wondering what he’s left inside. “Of course I can.”
“Right back.” He disappears inside, and I laze on the blanket, watching our child playing.
When he reappears about five minutes later, he’s carrying a generously sized tray, which he sets onto the blanket. There’s a bowl of strawberries, a bottle of French champagne, two flutes, and two wrapped gifts stacked on top of one another. They’re about the size of a book, but squarer.
“Aren’t you fancy. Champagne?” I say.
He gives me a slow smile. “I felt like celebrating.”
I nudge his bare foot with my own. “Didn’t we just do that?”
“Well, yeah. But there's always more celebrating to be done.” He calls to Reina. “Baby girl! Daddy’s got presents and strawberries.”
Daddy. My heart swells.
This year has been an amazing gift. In my heart, I don’t really care what’s in that oddly shaped box. I’ve got everything I need already.
Reina abandons the moths and toddles in our direction. Matteo gets up to meet her, taking the wrapped presents with him. “Can you give these to Mama, just like we talked about?”
My baby takes the gifts in two hands.
“Good girl. Give them to Mama so she can open them. There's something for each of you.”
Reina looks up at me, thinks for a minute, and then toddles in my direction. But walking is tricky, so she trips on the edge of the blanket, and I have to catch her.
