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Ten
Bonus Chapter: Leo
Lumberjack BABY
Wealth.Power. Wood.
Three things I’ve always thought were the most important in my life.
Wealth. That one’s obvious. The more money you have, the easier life is.
Power. The more of that you have, the more control you possess.
And wood? Well, when you work in the lumberjack business, that always goes hand-in-hand with the other two.
It’s strange how much things change. Now, when I think of wealth, I think of where it’ll go once I’m gone. When I look into my wife’s eyes, I wonder where the hell all of my power and control went off to. And wood…
There’s still plenty of that in my life but I find myself whittling a little more than the occasional chess piece lately.
I balance the nail between two fingers and choke up my grip on the hammer to give myself the most control. Gentle taps are all I can get away with at this hour but I’m officially running out of time here.
Seven months down. Two to go.
I hit the nail, forcing it down and securing the final bar in place. A few more quiet taps to make sure and I give it a little jiggle. Solid as a rock. It better be, anyway.
I take a quick step back to admire the work.
“Looks good,” I hear behind me.
I spin around, taking in a sharp inhale. Hazel stands in the doorway with her hair clipped up on her head, wearing one of my thick flannels and a baggy pair of slacks; one of the only outfits she says is comfortable for her at this stage and I believe her. I can’t imagine how it must feel lugging around a belly full of baby like that, especially not a Jackman baby. We’re not exactly small.
“Thanks,” I say. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
She walks in with one hand resting on her growing stomach. Her eyes admire the work-in-progress crib in front of us. She reaches out and runs a limp finger along the side.
“You didn’t,” she says. “Heartburn keeping me up again.”
I set the hammer down. “Give me a few minutes here and I’ll draw you a bath.”
She chuckles and sits down on the stool by the workbench. “Thanks, but I’d rather just watch you work.” Her lips curl even more at the crib. “I love this tradition. Has it really gone back six generations?”
I nod. “Seven, I think. My father built me a crib, just like his father built for him, just like his father built for him, and so on.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“I always thought it was lame, to be honest. But then…” I look at her belly. “All of a sudden, I couldn’t wait to do it.”
Hazel smiles, her tired eyes squinting beneath the bright lights above us. “Can you build me something?” she asks.
“What do you want?”
She cringes. “Still waiting on that new headboard we broke last Valentine’s.”
I laugh. “Oh, yeah.”
“And Pearl’s doghouse could use an upgrade.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
