Page 28 of My Irish Roommate

“You just hate surprises, don’t you?” he laughs. “That’s okay, we’re here.”

He turns onto a paved driveway that heads up a small hill. At the end of the drive is a two-story stone house that’s practically a carbon copy of our parent’s home. There’s a two-car garage with white doors and Rowan parks in front of it.

“Who’s house is this?” I ask him as I peer out the window.

“Yours, baby girl,” he replies.

I turn to him and chuckle, “Sure it is.”

He just stares into my eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You’re not serious,” I stammer.

“We agreed that we needed a bigger place, right?” he grins.

“Yes, but this? I can’t believe it.”

“Would you like to see the inside of your new house, baby girl?” He pulls a set of keys from his pocket and dangles them in front of me.

“Let’s go,” I cheer.

He helps me out of the car and to the front door. The key turns in the lock and he pushes the door open. I start to step inside and he pulls me back gently, “Stop! I need to carry you over the threshold.”

I look down at my enormous belly and say, “Really?”

“You’re still light as a feather,” he says and lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing.

He sets me down, and I see that the house is partly furnished. I begin to question if it’s really ours.

“Whose furniture is this?” I ask.

“Ours. Your mother helped me pick out some starter pieces so we can move in. I know you want to decorate in your own style so we only bought the basics.”

“That was so nice of her. I can’t believe you guys kept this secret! What made you decide to pick a house out here?”

“Remember the first time we visited our parents? You told me then that if you had your choice, you’d want to live in a place like this. You're my girl and you get what you want. That’s my job.”

I wrap my arms around him and kiss his lips, “I love you so much. You treat me like a queen.”

“You’re my princess and always will be.”

“Can we look upstairs?” I ask him.

“Not yet. Let’s go see the rest of the first floor,” he answers and escorts me through the large family room and into the completely remodeled chef’s kitchen.

Gazing out past the patio, I tell him, “The backyard is perfect for kids.”

“We’ll have to fence off the pond,” he nods.

“Pond?” I peer out further but can’t locate it.

“Of course. The perfect place to teach my kids to fish,” he smiles.

“Hello?” I hear my mother call out from the front door.

“Took them long enough,” Rowan mumbles. “We’re in the kitchen.”

Our parents join us and I give my mother a hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done to help Rowan with this.”

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