Chapter Thirty-Seven
“What’s this?” Emilia asked when I brought a cup of coffee to her in her office.
She was sitting at her desk, laptop open. In front of her was the gift box I’d set there last night before going to bed. I handed her a latte in a mug that read, Cute enough to stop your heart, skilled enough to restart it, with an EKG graphic on it. A gift from her coworker, Louisa, during her cardiology rotation.
I nodded to the box. “Well, it’s wrapped, so if you really want to know, you should, you know, open it.”
She arched a brow at me over her coffee cup. “To be fair, I wasn’t asking you what was inside the box. I was asking you what the occasion was. My birthday was months ago. You already got me something for Mother’s Day. What is the occasion for spoiling me today?”
I grinned. “Does there have to be an occasion?” And before she could reply, I continued. “It’s a push present.”
Her brows scrunched together as she swallowed her first sip of coffee and set down the mug. “A what present?”
“The moms at the Parent and Me class were talking about what their husbands got them for push presents and I didn’t know that was a thing.”
She blinked. “Explain what a push present is.”
“A present the husband gives the wife for pushing out a baby, apparently.”
She looked increasingly puzzled. “That’s a thing?”
I shrugged. “According to the Parent and Me moms, it is. And I was being neglectful by not getting you one.”
“Wasn’t that class called Mommy and Me?”
I gave her a sheepish grin over my mug of black coffee. “Well, it was Mommy and Me class, but they decided when I started taking Sabrina that they should be inclusive. So, they changed it to Parent and Me.”
She laughed. “I never asked how you like being the only dad in that class.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. Sabrina loves it. I’m not going to let any hangups keep me from something that’s good for her.”
Her eyes smiled into mine as her beautiful features lit up. “You are the best dad.”
I took another sip, gave her a self-deprecating half shrug. “I try.” Then I pointed at the gift with my mug. “Open it.”
She set down her mug and whipped up the present with gusto. “I thought you’d never ask.” She laughed.
Once the wrapping paper was removed, she slipped off the top of the box and inside was a red jewelry box. “Hmm,” she said, eyes narrowing as she popped open the box. Inside, matching the one I’d given her for our first anniversary, was another rose gold Cartier love bracelet, studded with diamonds. Her eyes lit up, but she glanced at me. “I have a matching set now.”
“Well, I noticed you like to wear your other one. But read the inscription on this one. It’s different.”
Our anniversary bracelet read, EKS + AD = Nat 20 along with our wedding date. This matching bracelet read, Sabrina Kimberly Drake with her birthdate, time, and the latitude and longitude, right down to the nearest second, of her birth location.
Emilia popped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around my neck. “This is amazing and so sweet. Thank you.”
And for good measure, she planted a coffee-flavored kiss on my lips. But I loved the taste of coffee—and Emilia—so I was digging it.
She pulled back, still holding me. “Are you ready for our big day? Canyon Hollow apparently rolls out the stops for every holiday.”
My hands slipped to her hips and I laughed. “Even an innocuous one like Memorial Day. I read the flyer. Looks to be an all-day thing.”
Memorial Day was a hot dry holiday Monday at the end of May where we walked the mile and a half from our end of the canyon toward the town square, pushing Sabrina in her stroller, which we brought along to carry the baby’s stuff more than the baby herself.
I eyed the diaper bag and the extra things packed and tucked under her seat in the stroller wondering yet again how someone so little required so much stuff. Wherever we went, we were transporting at least five times her weight in stuff. No wonder parents gravitated toward minivans. It had nothing to do with the kids and everything to do with all the stuff that came with them.
We made our way to the line of booths and trucks set up under the shady oak trees along the main drag—a roughly trapezoidal-shaped town square. It was a relatively flat clearing complete with a bandstand covered by a quaint, large gazebo, an adjacent flat field for pickup sports games and some shops and eateries along the edges. These all had open booths and free sample plates set up outside under their awnings.
Crowds had spilled in from the flatlands—so the rest of the county was referred to, here. I tried not to take that personally as a recently imported flatlander myself. Cars were parked everywhere with the overflow relegated to just outside the mouth of the canyon, contributing to a steady stream of people walking in and lining the square in preparation for the parade.
But before that, people wanted snacks, and Emilia declared herself dying of thirst—a common complaint of hers since she started nursing a baby. So here we were, waiting in the long line at the lemonade booth. Sabrina started crying, but before I could respond, Emilia had her unstrapped and in her arms, bouncing her.
“She doesn’t need to eat, does she?” I asked.
“Oh my goodness. She’s getting so big!” The owner of the local bakery, Marianne, had stepped out on the porch with a fresh tray of tiny muffins to give away and had zeroed in on us.
She approached and began to fawn over the baby and ply us with free baked goods while chatting nonstop about her grandkids. On the way over, we’d run across Miguel, the mail-carrier-slash-astronomer on his day off. He had, as usual, recounted some brand-new James Webb telescope facts. He hadn’t repeated himself yet, which I found impressive.
After five months of living here, I could safely say that Canyon Hollow was a trip and unlike any place I’d ever lived before, populated by an eccentric but interesting cast of characters.
Marianne had no sooner left us to set up her tray of muffin samples in front of the bakery when Stacia, one of the moms from the Parent and Me group stepped up.
“Hey Adam! So great to see you here with baby ‘Brina.”
She bent and chucked the baby’s cheek while giving a quick hi to Emilia, then turned back to me. “Did you read that article I texted you? What did you think?”
I nodded. “It was very interesting.” And full of a lot of woo woo stuff I didn’t ascribe to, but I kept that opinion to myself.
“Yeah, so it’s a really great philosophy. I absolutely love it.” She hesitated when I failed to elaborate on my opinion. I was one-hundred percent certain she wouldn’t like what I had to say about the article and the philosophy behind it. To say nothing of the fact that I hadn’t even bothered to pass the link on to Emilia because I was also certain of what she’d say.
Stacia chatted a little bit more before stating she had to run off to meet her husband and kids.
“What was that?” Emilia asked me several minutes later when we had our drinks in hand and wandered over to sit at one of the temporary tables that had been set up for refreshments.
I waved it away. “Oh, another article about woo woo parenting.”
She raised her brows and sipped, and I could just tell by her body language that she had a lot to say that she wasn’t saying.
I frowned. “What?”
She fought a smile. “I don’t think she really wanted to talk to you about woo woo parenting. Not the way she was batting her eyes and shoving her chest out at you.”
I shook my head. “No really, she’s just really passionate.”
“Or really attracted,” Emilia snorted.
“She’s always preaching about this stuff to me—”
“But not to the other moms?”
I blinked, thinking. Did Stacia preach to the other moms?
“She certainly was too busy flirting to be aware of my existence,” Emilia added. I eyed her, definitely feeling an amused vibe from her rather than a jealous one.
I shook my head. “We talk about tummy time and sleep training. There’s no flirting.”
She laughed. “Adam, I know what flirting is. You’re the one who’s apparently blind to it.”
I quirked a smile at her. “I’m not blind to it when you’re flirting with me.”
She grinned wide. “That’s true. That’s definitely true. But I can’t help but wonder if you’re the most popular participant at Parent and Me class.”
I shrugged. “If I am, it’s only because I’m the oddity, as the only dad.”
“Yeah, the hot dad. The DILF, you mean.”
“I’m your DILF and no one else’s.”
She leaned over to plant a peck on my lips. “Yup, just how I like it.”
As we finished up our drinks, Emilia handed me the baby so she could start digging through the stroller stuff for some random essential baby paraphernalia. Across the way, I spotted Dom exiting the general grocery store carrying a paper bag.
When his gaze met mine, I smiled and waved him over. Though we’d been living in the canyon—practically his neighbor—for months now, I’d only seen him a handful of times and he hadn’t accepted our standing invitation to come for dinner yet. I wasn’t above noticing the many curious glances cast his way by the locals. I’d heard some whispers and hints of gossip here and there about this mysterious and enigmatic figure in their midst. But as soon as people realized we were friends, little more had been said to me. Which, frankly, was the way I liked it.
“Hey Adam,” he said the moment he was close enough. “I had to duck in and grab something at the store. I can’t stay long.” And as if to punctuate his point, he glanced at his watch. He flashed a smile at my wife. “Mia, you’re looking well. And my how the little lady has grown.”
Emilia’s grin widened. “Dom, thank you so much. And yes, any day now she’ll be big enough to play with that amazing playhouse you sent her. It’s just stunning...hell, sometimes I want to crawl in there myself.”
Dom’s baby shower present had indeed been amazing and unique, a handcrafted wooden playhouse with exquisite details. “Straight out of the old country,” he’d told me, which only gave a small hint of the background he rarely talked about. I did know that he and his parents had emigrated from Romania when he was still quite young, which explained why he had no accent when he spoke English.
Perhaps the playhouse had been built in Romania? It was a very thoughtful, unique and lavish gift, to be sure.
“Have you put her name on the list for the academy yet? There’s a long waitlist, I’ve heard,” Dominic asked.
“Oh you mean the Helena Modjeska Academy?” We both turned and glanced across the town center toward a complex of older buildings situated partially up the canyon wall on a bluff overlooking the valley.
It was highly exclusive, apparently.
I laughed. “She’s not even going to be ready for school for—”
“Get her name on the list now. I mean it. It’s worth it. I graduated from there.” Dom followed our gazes up toward the academy grounds and a weird expression, like a ghost, flickered through his eyes.
“Come have dinner with us next weekend,” Emilia said suddenly.
Dominic smiled. “Thanks, Mia, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. I’ll be out of town, back up north.”
“Well reach out to us with some dates on your calendar that you’re available. We’d love to have you over.”
He nodded, grinning widely. “Will do. I’m gonna move along before this parade starts or everything’s going to be backed up for miles. Take care, you three.”
I watched him go and soon after, as he’d said, the parade started, with the marching band from the academy, locals in costume on horseback, the Canyon Hollow city council driving a simple float that was basically a glorified golf cart.
Emilia held up the baby so she could see. She waved her hands excitedly as the dogs from the local animal shelter walked past on leashes. Maybe we’d have to adopt a dog at some point. I’d always wanted to, anyway. And if Sabrina got this excited from just seeing them...then I’d have to consider it.
I smiled, watching her and was suddenly remembering my most recent session with the therapist. I’d been questing to find my role, my next thing to do in life. “Has it occurred to you that you might already be doing it?” Kendra asked, a brow arched above her glasses.
I shrugged. “I’m not doing much beyond speaking and consulting here and there, though.”
“No, I don’t mean career wise. I have no doubt you’ll be getting up to something soon. You’re far too much of an achiever to sit back and retire. No, I’m just putting forward that maybe your next role in life is one you’re already fulfilling.”
I tilted my head and stared back at her between narrowed eyes. “You mean my role as a father?”
Her grin blossomed across her face, lighting her eyes. She reminded me of a teacher finally witnessing progress from her clumsy apprentice.
I blinked, settling back against the comfortable, wide back of my chair and let out a long breath. “I just know I want to be the best I can possibly be. And I want it for her. For them. I’m that little girl’s protector and you know what? I am damn happy with that.”
Back in the present, it was getting hot, and we were tired. And it was almost time for Sabrina to eat. When Emilia tried to put her back in the stroller for our walk to the house, however, little Miss Drake was having none of it.
“Let me take her,” I said, reaching out for her.
Emilia turned to me and cocked a brow. “It’s a long walk back. You want the sling?”
“Sure, lay it on me.” Since Emilia had worn it last, I had to make some adjustments so it would fit me. Then Emilia handed the baby to me and helped me settle her into the sling. Emilia packed up the rest of the baby stuff into the stroller and she pushed it along as we walked.
Sabrina calmed down as soon as we started moving. Emilia and I waved to some neighbors milling about—not that we knew all their names yet, but they were so friendly.
Almost to the base of our driveway, a memory of something Jordan once said to me floated through my mind. Something about promising him I’d never wear my baby on my chest like a clothing accessory.
“What’s wrong?” Emilia asked when I stopped in my tracks to whip out my phone and switch the camera to a selfie setting.
“I just gotta send Jordan a quick text.” And with that, I stretched out my arms to get the baby and sling in the frame and snapped a quick pic. Then I hit the button to send the selfie and for the caption, I just chose one emoji. The middle finger, of course.
Take that, Jordan. I was wearing my baby, and I would take no shit from anyone about it.
Then, I took my wife by the hand, and we went back to the house. All three of us together.