Chapter 71
SPENCER
SIX YEARS AGO
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Monroe. Happy birthday to you,” everyone sings.
“Blow out your candle, sweetie.” Harlow points to the number one shaped candle sticking out of the tiny cake we got just for the baby.
Monroe giggles and babbles, swatting at the cake, and Harlow blows the candle out for her. Monroe claps her hands in excitement.
I can’t believe a year has already passed since our daughter was born. It’s been both the best, and most stressful year of my life. Harlow swipes her finger through the pink frosting on Roe’s cake and smears it on my nose, laughing.
It’s good to see her doing better.
In the past two months, she’s become more confident in motherhood and I’m so happy to finally see her blossoming in it. I believe she’s been killing the mom thing the whole time, but she didn’t feel that way.
Monroe smashes her hand into the cake, and we all dissolve into laughter.
It’s safe to say that as the only grandchild on both sides, and Willa’s only niece, she’s a very spoiled baby.
I wipe the frosting from my nose and lick my finger clean. Harlow watches me with heat in her eyes. It’s not that things were rocky between us after Monroe came, it just became harder to find time for just the two of us, but I feel like we’re beginning to come out of that fog.
When the cake is gone, we let Monroe attempt to open her presents which mostly involves the two of us starting it for her and her playing with the paper until one of us inevitably takes over to get it all off.
It’s a nice day, though, being with everyone and celebrating our little girl. It’s a beautiful, sunny day—a stark contrast to the storm that was hitting Santa Monica a year ago.
“I’m going to put her down for a nap,” Harlow says, scooping up Monroe from my arms. “Mom said she’d keep an ear out for her if we wanted to surf.”
“I’ll grab the boards.”
Her dad has several surfboards in the garage that are always up for grabs for anyone to use.
I carry two out near the edge of the water and wait for Harlow to join me.
“She went down easy,” she says, clearly pleased by this news. “I think she’s finally stopped fighting nap time.”
“Does this mean you’re ready for baby number two?” I joke.
She bursts into laughter. “Absolutely not.”
“Do you want another one day?” I ask. It doesn’t matter to me either way. I always saw myself with two or three kids, but I’d be happy if it was only ever Monroe too.
She purses her lips in thought and fixes the leash to her ankle before she yanks the board out of the sand. I do the same and we head into the water.
“Not any time soon, but yeah, maybe one day I could see that. But right now, I just want to make it through the toddler stage and get her into school before I even think about another.”
“You gonna marry me before the next one?” I tease.
I keep dropping marriage hints, trying to feel her out on the subject matter. I don’t want to push her to get married too soon if that’s not what she wants, even if I would’ve married her yesterday.
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “Does that mean you’re going to ask?”
“Maybe,” I mimic. “You gonna say yes?”
She laughs. “I might.”
“Good.” I grin at her, and we run through the water and hop onto our boards.
This is what I want—her, Monroe, and a house on the beach one day so I can surf any time I want.