Page 133 of Choosing Us

Harlow nods. “That feels like the right plan to me. Our people need to know about your arrival, sweet girl.”

“You know Theo is going to be insufferable about this, right?” I ask my wife as I pull up my dad’s contact. “He said last week that if we have the baby on his birthday, we have to make him the godfather.”

“Jack or Walker might have something to say about that,” she teases. We haven’t figured out godparents yet, but what matters is there’s an entire army of uncles that will love and protect our little girl.

And more than a few fierce aunts and cousins.

My dad answers on the third ring, and my emotions hit me out of nowhere. I’ve never made a call like this, and the joy and responsibility of today’s events collide all at once.

I can hear music in the background; he’s likely in the kitchen as he does his morning crossword puzzle. “Hey, Ry. What’s up, bud?”

I try to clear my throat but don’t answer him fast enough.

“Ryan, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, hey, Dad, sorry. Everything is good—great, in fact. I was wondering if you were busy this morning?”

I can hear Dad shuffle through some papers on the other end. “I needed to drop some trust documents off at the lawyers, but nothing urgent. What’s up? Are you guys coming by for breakfast?”

“No, but I thought you might want to come to us. In fact, I’m positive you will.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s going on?”

“Well, you’ll have to come to the hospital, but I thought you’d want to meet your newest grandchild.”

“The baby is here?!” The screeching of Dad’s stool getting shoved back echoes through the line, and my cheeks already hurt from smiling. “Way to bury the lead, son! When can I come?”

“Come on up now.” I look to Harlow who nods. “We want you to be one of the first, so I’ll give you ten minutes before I text The Cavalry.”

“That’s kind of you. I’m already heading out the door and will be there in less than fifteen minutes. Ha! A new grand-baby! This is fantastic. Boy, girl? How are they? How’s Harlow? How are you?”

“We’ll give you all the details when you get here, but we are all good.” Dad’s laughter is so loud even Harlow can hear it through the speaker pressed to my ear.

“Sounds good, son. See you in a few!”

It takes my dad twelve minutes from when we hung up until the door to the hospital room opens. I hear the automated hand sanitizer dispense moments before Dad walks into the room. His grin is wide as he walks over to hug me first. I stand to meet him at the foot of Harlow’s bed as he pulls me in tight.

“Congratulations, son. You’re a dad. Welcome to the hardest and best job of your life, bud. You’re going to be a great one,” he says into my ear, and I have to choke back the emotions at the man I respect the most in the world believing in me so much.

“Thanks, Dad. I had a great role model. Hope I can be half the dad you are.”

He lets go of our hug to pull back and look me in the eyes. “You’ll be twice the dad I was—I just know it.”

“Ryan, would you like to introduce your father to our daughter?” Harlow’s soft voice pulls us from our moment, and I can’t help but grin.

“I’d love to. Dad, this is our daughter, Brynne Caroline Callahan. Brynn, little love, this is your grandpa Murphy.”

Dad’s watery eyes meet mine. “Caroline? You gave her your mama’s name?”

I nod as Harlow explains. “I know she won’t get the chance to meet her Grandma Caroline, but she’s a part of the family and will be a guiding force in Brynne’s life with the pieces she left behind in all of you.”

I have to look up at the ceiling and try not to break down again. When Harlow suggested it, I was a little surprised since she never met Mama, but Harlow said Brynne may not ever get to experience the type of grandmother that she deserves, but this way, she is connected to the one that would have loved her unconditionally.

We don’t expect that type of relationship with Harlow’s mother. After they chose to not support Harlow’s wishes for our wedding, the communication has been minimal. When we spoke to them at Christmas, Harlow let them know they were going to be grandparents, but the conversation didn’t go quite like it should have.

“Pregnant, already? Wow, that’s a bit cliché, isn’t it? Barefoot and pregnant a few months after the wedding? At least it wasn’t a shotgun wedding.” Harlow’s mother’s response leaves me scowling and looking at Harlow, who just slightly shakes her head at me.

My wife rolls her eyes as she responds, “Yes, Mother. We are very excited, even though it was an unexpected turn of events.”