Page 77 of The Dare

With all our lives from now on only filled with moments like this.

The house, the images of our son.

Holding him the day he’s born and kissing my wife for the first time as a mommy herself.

These are the things that make me the richest man in the world.

And it’s nothing to do with zeros or commas.

Extended Epilogue

One Year Later

Natasha

The radio crackles to life and I check the clock, wondering where the time goes some days.

Instead of letting Benjamin kick and scoot around in his walker, I lift him out and carry him with me to answer Michael.

“You’re getting more and more like your dad every day,” I tell him, hitching him onto my hip, used to his little feet nudging my already hugepregnant-againbelly.

I lift the receiver of the CB radio, pressing the button to talk, knowing exactly who it is.

Who it always is when I’m home alone at this time of day.

“Do I have to say it?” I ask before I say anything else.

Breaking the rules of citizen band radio 101 every time I use it.

“Yeah, you gotta say it,” Michael drawls, scolding me for not using our call signs properly.

I sigh but have to laugh to myself.

Benji’s tiny hand reaches up, his eyes focused on the red button on the receiver, but is ultimately distracted by a wisp of my hair in the light.

“Ten-four big daddy, this is Montana momma,” I hear myself saying before letting the button go.

I feel stupid every time I say it, but I know how much of a kick Michael gets out of it.

How horny it makes him for some reason right before he gets home from picking up our monthly supplies from town.

“That’s better,” he says, a little growl in his voice.

“And how’s Benji?” he asks, always wanting an update, even though he’s only been gone for two hours.

“We’re fine, big daddy,” I assure him, asking how close he is.

“Be about another twenty minutes. Just checking in to let you know. To tell you I love you both,” he says, making my heart kick in my chest.

It seemed silly at first, the radio. The hundred other things the man does in a day to make sure he tells us all how much he loves us.

How much he cares.

What we mean to him as a family.

“I’ll get lunch on then,” I chime back, knowing he doesn’t mean to make me cry when he says nice things, so I usually make out like it's business as usual on the radio.

Barefoot and pregnant ranch-wife doin’ her chores and makin’ sure big daddy has a hot meal waitin’.