Page 19 of Mistlefoes

“I’m not,” Jill called, coming out of the back with her hand behind her back.

“What are you up to?” We might be together now, married, but we still pranked each other regularly. It was a thing; what could I say?

“Nothing. Just an early present for you.”

“Coal?”

She laughed. “No.”

Pulling her hand around and holding it out toward me, she handed me the little shite stick. I knew immediately what it was, and I knew what it said without looking. I took it from her and looked anyway. We’d been trying to get pregnant all year. With both of us in our thirties, we didn’t want to wait.

“Positive,’ I whispered.

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

“You’re gonna be a mom. This is for real?”

“Totally for real, she assured me.”

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” I asked, pulling her into my arms.

“A few times. Tell me again.”

“I love you, Jill Ziglar. I’ll love you forever.”

She leaned into me, snuggling into my chest. “I love you, too, Jack.” She sighed happily. “I love you. Forever.”

I leaned my cheek against her hair. “Forever.”