Out On a Limb(101)
“Winnifred June McNulty, love of my life and mother of my child, will you please marry me?”
“I will,” I say, throwing myself at him. “I will, and I will be proposing back to you.”
“It’s only fair,” Bo says, his lips trembling against my own.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, kissing him sloppily as he attempts to slip the ring on my finger. “But it’s far too small, honey. I’m very pregnant.”
“We’ll get it resized when we put a stone on it,” he says, holding it out to me.
I slide the ring onto the ring finger on my right hand, which it’s far too big for.
“It was my mom’s,” Bo says, bringing my right hand between us, twiddling it with his thumb. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Absolutely,” I say, punctuated by a kiss. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
For the rest of the night, I wear the ring on my smaller thumb, refusing to take it off. We eat leftover food from the baby shower in our pyjamas and dance to Frank Sinatra in the dining room afterward, my belly poking out between us.
All evening I look around the house, look at my fiancé, look at my belly, smiling with so much gratitude it’s quite nearly painful. Thinking that I cannot wait for whatever comes next. How capable I feel to face it all with Bo at my side.
August Durand was born at 11:56pm on July thirty-first, only four minutes shy of her namesake. Her mother decided on the middle name Sarah, and her father decided that he’d never witnessed anything as formidable as his wife-to-be during labour. It was a short but intense delivery—having barely made it to the hospital in time—but they held hands through it all and welcomed their daughter with tears streaking down their smile-risen cheeks. As a matter of fact, the new parents cried far more than little August as the nurses placed her across her mother’s chest for the very first time. They lay side by side, curled around one another inside the narrow hospital bed, and looked down at their daughter with awe—completely enraptured by every perfect piece of her. Her cute, if a little purple, feet. Her tiny, adorable hands that they couldn’t stop reaching for. Her bald head and dark eyes, leaving them guessing at who she’ll most resemble. They speculated aloud to one another in those first few moments that no baby had been or will ever be as wise as August. They watched her as she seemingly took in her surroundings, her eyes opened wide and surprisingly aware as she lifted her head with muscles that shocked even the nurses. She’s smart like her father, her mother said quietly. She’s strong like her mother, her father said loudly to anyone who would listen. We love you, they whispered to her over and over and over again. Thank you, her father added, kissing her mother. I did it, her mother whispered, kissing him back.
EPILOGUE
Ten Years Later
“Gus!” I shout, tripping over her purple Converse on my way through the door. “Your shoes… again!”
Charlie, our five-year-old, comes bounding over as soon as I step inside. I kick the shoes out of the way to shut the door with my hip and drop my suitcase.
“Want some help?” she asks, holding out two hands. I smile at her, scrunching my nose as she does the same. She’s got freckles just like her father and older sister do. Sometimes I want to paint them on myself before I leave the house just so I can match them all. Joey, our two-year-old, looks more like me with her black hair and blue eyes and no freckles yet. And her drooling and affinity for poop jokes, as Bo likes to point out.
“Hi, baby. Thank you.” I drop the brown paper bag filled with groceries into Charlie’s arms, and she nearly collapses under the weight of it. “You sure you got that? Is Dad—”
“Here!” Bo says, appearing in the living room with Joey glued to his hip as always. She’s got a wide-spread smile slathered with chocolate icing, and Bo’s got flour all over his navy sweater and trousers. “We got a bit delayed. The girls wanted to help me make you a welcome home cake, but then Joey was the only one who stuck it out. None of them are in their costumes yet, and August, apparently, doesn’t want to be a pirate this year. So now the cake is still baking, and no one is dressed on time to leave, and I’m not even sure where—”
I go on my toes to kiss him, cupping his face with my hand to pull him the rest of the way down toward me. “Happy anniversary, darling.” I pat his cheek, searching his eyes until he takes a much-needed breath. “I missed you.”
Bo settles, his chest falling. “Hi, honey. Sorry.” He bends down, kissing me again. “How was your trip? We missed you too. I missed you.”
“Mama home!” Joey says, her messy hands reaching for me. I take her, kissing all over her face as she squeals. Bo comes behind me and tucks my hair out of the way so she at least doesn’t get that part of me covered in chocolate icing. We don’t have time for showers before Sarah’s Halloween party.
“I grabbed extra candy to leave out on the porch.” I point to the bag that Charlie is struggling to drag across the floor toward the kitchen. “Someone should probably help her…” I mumble, following after Bo to the kitchen. He swoops down and picks up both Charlie and the bag of groceries on his way. She giggles, flopping like a fish in his arms.