Forty-Eight
forty-eight
HAPPY - PHARRELL WILLIAMS
OWEN - NOVEMBER 4, 2014
W e moved in three days ago and there are boxes still stacked in corners, waiting to be unpacked, and the faint smell of fresh paint still lingers in the air. Ruby and Sara’s laughter echoes from the backyard, blending with the soft rustle of the trees in the wind. It’s the good kind of chaos that reminds me how lucky I am, how far we’ve come.
I lean against the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee as I watch Callie outside with the girls. Ruby’s toddling after Sara, her little legs moving faster than I thought possible, while Sara spins in circles, her arms outstretched like she’s a butterfly.
Moments like this make me stop and reflect. A year ago, I wouldn’t have pictured this—this house, this life, this family. I wouldn’t have believed it was possible, and now, watching Callie laugh as Sara tries to teach Ruby how to twirl, I feel peace.
The door creaks open, and Callie steps inside, her cheeks flushed from the crisp air. “Hey,” she says, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Hey,” I reply, setting my mug down. “The girls getting their energy out?”
“Oh, yeah,” she says with a soft laugh, leaning against the counter beside me. “Sara’s convinced she’s part butterfly now. Ruby’s just trying to keep up.”
I smile, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You okay?”
She hesitates, biting her lip like she’s trying to figure out how to say something. I know her well enough by now to know when something’s on her mind.
“Yeah,” she says finally, but her tone carries a weight that makes my chest tighten.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice softer now.
She glances toward the window, her arms crossing over her chest. “I’ve been feeling… off the past few days.”
I straighten slightly, my mind already racing. “What kind of off?”
She shakes her head quickly, as if to reassure me. “Nothing bad,” she says. “Just… tired. Emotional. A little nauseous here and there.”
My pulse quickens, the pieces clicking together in my mind. “Callie…”
She meets my gaze, and in that moment I see it—the answer she already knows but hasn’t said out loud yet.
“I took a test,” she says quietly.
My heart stutters, my breath catching in my throat. “And?”
Her lips curve into a smile. “It’s positive.”
The world seems to tilt for a moment, and all I can do is stare at her. Pregnant. She’s pregnant. I’m hit in the chest with emotion, but it’s not fear or panic I feel—it’s awe. Pure, unfiltered awe.
“You’re pregnant,” I say, more to myself than to her, the realization hitting me all at once.
She nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m pregnant.”
I step forward, pulling her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I can. A wave of emotion crashes over me. Joy, gratitude, love, all flood my chest, leaving me breathless. “You’re amazing, you know that?” I murmur into her hair, my voice thick.
She laughs softly, her voice muffled against my chest. “I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use right now.”
“Well, I am,” I say, pulling back enough to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes shimmering, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “You’re incredible, Callie. This is incredible.”
Her smile widens, and she reaches up to cup my face. “Are you happy?” she asks, her voice uncertain.
“Happy?” I repeat, shaking my head as a laugh escapes me. “Callie, I’m more than happy. I’m… I don’t even have words for this. I can’t wait to do this with you again.”
She lets out a relieved laugh, leaning into me. “Good. Because I’ve been freaking out about how to tell you.”
“You could’ve just said, ‘Hey, Owen, guess what? We’re having another kid,’” I tease, earning a playful swat on my arm.
“I wanted it to be special,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“It is special,” I reply, my hand sliding down to rest on her stomach. “You’ve given me everything, Callie. And this little one? They’re just more proof that I don’t need anything else. You, the kids, this house—you’re all I’ll ever need.”
Her eyes well up again, and she presses her forehead to mine. “You’re everything to me too, Owen.”
We stand there for a while, the sounds of the girls playing outside drifting in through the open window. I can’t stop thinking about how far we’ve come—the struggles, the doubts, the moments when it felt like we might never get here. But here we are, in this farmhouse we’ve made our own, with our growing family.
Three days in, and this place already feels like home.
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
The room is quiet now, the stillness that comes only after something extraordinary. Callie is resting in the hospital bed, her face soft with exhaustion and peace. In her arms, swaddled tightly in a blue blanket, is our son—Remington Owen Klein.
I can’t take my eyes off him.
He’s so small, smaller than I remember Ruby being, though that could just be the haze of memory playing tricks on me. His tiny fists peek out from the blanket, and his face is scrunched up, his lips parting with each soft breath. I’m afraid to blink, afraid I’ll miss something.
“Do you want to hold him?” Callie’s voice is soft and amused, and she’s smiling at me with the kind of love that leaves me breathless.
I nod, reaching out as she carefully transfers him into my arms. The moment he’s settled against my chest, something inside me shifts. I’ve held babies before—my own, even—but this feels different. Maybe it’s because he’s the first born here, the first to take his first breath in this new chapter of our lives.
“Hi, buddy,” I murmur, my voice low as I cradle him closer. His tiny face is perfect, and I can already see hints of Callie in his features—the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips. “You’re finally here.”
Callie watches us, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What are you thinking about?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I glance at her, then back down at Remington. “How much everything has changed,” I say honestly. “How much we’ve changed.”
Her smile softens, and she nods. “It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it? When it was just me and Sara, trying to figure everything out.”
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “And me, just trying to survive day to day, wondering if I’d ever get it right.”
“We’ve come a long way,” she says, her voice steady, though I can hear the emotion behind it.
I think back to a year ago, when this life felt like out of reach, something I didn’t think I deserved. It was just me and Barrett back then, navigating co-parenting and work, trying to build something stable. Callie was figuring out her own world, raising Sara alone, waiting for me and this life to arrive.
Now, we’re here. Together.
This little boy in my arms is proof of how far we’ve come. He’s the product of love, of trust, of all the work we’ve put in to create a life we never thought we’d have.
“I can’t believe he’s ours,” I say quietly, my thumb brushing over the soft fabric of his blanket.
“Believe it,” Callie says, her smile widening. “He’s ours and so is everything we’ve built.”
I look at her, and I’m completely overwhelmed, by her strength, by the tiny life she brought into this world, by the life we’ve created, by the thought of what’s still ahead. “Thank you,” I say softly, my voice breaking.
She tilts her head, her brow furrowing. “For what?”
“For everything,” I reply. “For this life, for our family, for loving me even when I didn’t know how to love myself the way I should. For giving me all of this.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she reaches out to place her hand on my arm. “You’ve given me just as much, Owen. More than I ever thought I’d have. You’ve shown me what family really means.”
I glance down at Remi, who lets out a soft sigh, his tiny fingers curling into the blanket. “He’s going to have such a good life,” I say, my voice steady with conviction. “We’re going to make sure of that.”
“We will,” she agrees, her hand slipping into mine.
As the quiet hum of the hospital room settles around us, I feel a sense of completeness. Everything we’ve gone through—the struggles, the doubts, the moments when it felt like we’d never get here—was all worth it.
Looking at Callie, at Remington, I know one thing for sure: I’m so glad I promised to judge her when I asked what her five favorite bands were. And I’m glad she took a chance responding back to me.