Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
His words ease the knot in my gut. “Does that mean I won’t pass it on?”
“Always a chance. These things can run in families. But I wouldn’t argue that’s a reason not to have a child. You can be a great dad and still have your own issues. We’re all doing the best we can.”
I haven’t had much in the way of parents. The Kringles didn’t come into my life until I was around fifteen, so hearing this stuff from Cash gives me hope. “Well, what about the antidepressant? Would that cause birth defects or pregnancy problems?”
I’ve done well on my current medication. The dosage has to be adjusted every so often, but I’d change brands if I needed to for Peyton. I’d do anything to start a family with her.
He asks which medication I take and when I tell him, he shakes his head. “It’s unlikely to cause birth defects. It could slow your swimmers, making it harder for you to get her pregnant. But she and the baby won’t be affected.”
He continues, “Summer and I started the same way. It was just supposed to be about making a baby. Now we’ve been married for a couple of years, got two adorable kids, built a home together. It’s been a hell of an adventure, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
As I drive back to my place, I can’t stop smiling. Things worked out for Cash and Summer. Maybe it’ll work out for me and Peyton too. Damn, I hope so because my heart is already on the line. It’s too late to go back and pretend I didn’t make that suggestion.
I pull into my driveway, and something seems odd. Like I forgot something this morning though I can’t think of what. I’ve been so damn excited about this chance with Peyton to focus on much else.
But the moment I step through my front door, I have a split-second realization as I reach for the light. The hunch is confirmed when my friends and family begin shouting at me. Yep, today is my birthday.
5
PEYTON
They’re all shouting at Ledger, wishing him a happy birthday. I’m standing in the back of the crowd, watching his face. Judging from the surprise, I think he forgot what today is. I nearly did too. Thankfully, his mom called looking for the birthday cake that I’d baked yesterday.
My stomach flips as he scans the crowd, looking for me. I know he is. Everything in me is electrified. Somewhere in the middle of setting up all the birthday decorations, I realized just how right it felt to be making a baby with Ledger. Now excitement dances along all of my nerve endings. There are still a million things we need to talk about and choices we’ll have to make. But we’re doing this. We’re going to make a baby.
Maybe it’s my imagination but Ledger seems to relax the moment he spots me. Where else would I be? I’ve never missed one of his birthdays.
I step forward with his gift, an ugly Christmas sweater. Ugly sweaters are his favorite part of the holiday season, and everyone here is wearing one. Just like we do for each of his birthdays.
I present him with his, and he immediately dissolves into laughter. It’s an elf shitting candy canes. The candy canes are in 3D, made of strips of felt. It’s hideous and crass and the way he laughs is exactly why I made it for him.
Mine features a picture of a chihuahua wishing everyone a merry woofmas. But it’s done in ugly pastel colors and the dog looks drunk with his big, googly eyes. Ledger likes that one too if the way his whole smile warms when he sees it is any indication.
He puts it on immediately over his clothes and I reach for him, adjusting his collar. It’s something I’ve never done before but the gesture feels natural.
Ledger takes my hand in his. He licks his lips and I read the question on his face. But before he can ask it, West is clapping him on the back and wishing him a happy birthday. Just like that, the spell between us is broken. His family spends the next hour doting on him and showering him with birthday gifts.
When Micah finally turns on the football game and everyone is distracted, Ledger makes his escape. He grabs my hand and tugs me down the hall to his workshop. I’m rarely in here. I love his artwork. I mean, that much is obvious because every tattoo I have is one he designed.
The big skylight and floor-to-ceiling windows let all the natural light through, and the setting sun is bathing the whole room in shades of gold. There are workstations set up around the room. One for his drawing supplies, the surface filled with containers of drawing utensils. Pencils, charcoal, and markers in every shade. One for his paint supplies, the surface of the wooden table dotted with dried paint from previous projects. This is the space where my Ledger creates.