Page 401 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

***

My first thought. Twenty weeks. We’re already halfway there.

Somehow, she grows more beautiful every single day.

She walks down the steps slowly, still carrying the juice I poured for her before slipping outside.

Her eyes travel over the scattered lumber, to the half-built frame, and then back to me.

A smile begins tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Jamie..."

The tone alone tells me exactly what's coming. "What?"

She folds her arms. "You know that a newborn won't be able to use a swing for at least another couple of years."

I tighten another bolt. "I'm aware."

"So..."

I give the wrench one final turn before looking up. "I like being prepared."

She laughs, and I'm reminded that the best parts of my life have never made much noise.

"I've noticed."

***

She steps beside me, studying the frame taking shape beneath the maple tree.

"You know our baby will be perfectly happy with a blanket on the grass for a while."

"Probably."

"…and spend most of the first year wanting to be held."

"I hope so."

She tilts her head. "So why are you building this now?"

For a moment I simply look at the unfinished swing set. Then toward the cabin. Toward the dock. Toward the life that somehow became mine.

"I spent too many years believing I had to wait until everything was perfect before I could enjoy it. I'm done waiting."

For a long moment neither of us says anything. We don't need to.

The gentle breeze stirs the pine branches overhead.

***

She slips her hand into mine while we study the unfinished frame together.

"I was thinking," she says quietly.

“Should I be worried?”

She nudges my shoulder. "I mean it."

"I know."