I took the test and set it on the sink before washing my hands and setting the timer for two minutes. Whatever happened would be okay; if I was pregnant, it would be great news, and if I wasn’t, we’d just keep trying. I couldn’t help wringing my hands, though, as I waited for the timer to go off.

When it did, I bit down on my lip hard as I left it there and walked out of the bathroom, heading back to the kitchen, where Dillon and Nicky were playing some kind of game on the floor of the kitchen.

“Hey, babe, there’s something up with the toilet,” I said, keeping my face as straight as I could as I took my spot at the stove. “Would you please go check on it?”

He headed down the hallway toward the bathroom. I stirred the pot a couple more times as I heard the toilet flush, and I heard him call, “The toilet’s fine! What—”

His sentence cut off, and I finally allowed myself a smile.

He came out, holding the pregnancy test with a disbelieving look on his face. “Babe? This is for real, right?”

I turned to him, smiling, and nodded without saying a word. He came up to me and picked me up, pressing his face to mine as my tears started flowing, mingling with his. He kissed my tears away, before pressing his forehead to mine. “Try to make a girl.”

I laughed. “I’ll get right on it.”

He laughed too before setting me down and calling, “Nicky!”

Our son toddled over to us, looking confused.

“Nicky, how would you like to have a baby sister or brother?”

His eyes widened, and he looked from his father to me. I leaned down and took his little hands, setting them on my belly. “Mommy is going to have a baby. Does that make you happy?”

“Baby!” The shout was so loud and happy that it shocked us, but we both started laughing and crying happy tears, sweeping our son up into our arms.

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