“Hi, everyone!” Caroline shouts with a loud clap of her hands. Everyone silences and turns to look at her standing on a small bench so everyone can see her. “I want to thank you all for being here to celebrate Liv and Noah’s little bundle of joy. We didn’t tell anyone that today is actually a dual party for both a baby shower and a gender reveal. So,surprise,we are about to get to the fun part of the night, finding out if this bundle is a boy or girl!” She turns to each of us, motioning for both of us to come over to the small bar top table holding a cake.
The cake is absolutely beautiful, made by Bec, who recently announced she’d like to open a bakery. It’s a cranberry lemon cake with cream cheese frosting, and of course the middle layer has either blue or pink frosting in it to indicate what our little munchkin is. I know everyone thinks we’re having a baby girl, but I secretly want it to be a boy. I can envision Noah and our son, in the yard kicking a soccer ball back and forth, or standing on the dock by the pond at the back of the house fishing together.
We gather around the cake, Noah wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. He turns to plant a kiss on the top of what used to be freshly curled hair but the random burst of humidity, paired with the weight and explosive hormones had other thoughts.
“Ready?” he whispers, almost shaking with excitement. When I told him I was pregnant, I burst into tears, not happy tears, terrified tears while he put his hands over his mouth, did a little happy hop, and then wrapped me in the most secure hug of all time telling me that everything’s going to be okay. And he was right.
All our family and friends are around us looking at us with eyes wide and, ear-to-ear smiles, some silent happy tears sneaking down their faces, waiting for us to cut the cake. We decided today to have a cake just for us and cupcakes for everyone else. Bec and Caroline, might be the only two people to know the gender, but I think they are the most excited to share this moment with us.
We look at each other, then I close my eyes and jab the cake on the count of three. Everyone around us erupts with cheers, and I hear my mom gasp and start crying before we even open our eyes. I'm overwhelmed with emotion hearing everyone around us but am too anxious to actually open my eyes and find out. I don’t care what gender our baby is, they are going to be loved no matter what.
“Ollie, open your eyes,” Noah whispers, and I can feel the endless happiness coming through his words as he squeezes me close.
I open my eyes and look up at him for a split second before glancing at the cake, blue. I gasp, dropping my glass and bringing my hands up to my mouth as the tsunami of tears stream down my face.
“You’re going to be the best boy mom,” Noah whispers into my hair before planting the biggest kiss on the top of my head.
Bonus Epilogue - 3 years later
Noah
Ihavesatdowntowrite this at least 50 times in the last year or so but never really felt ready. Until about 3 months ago when I walked into our bedroom and saw Ollie sitting on the edge of the bench, head in her hands, shaking.
That day replays in my mind, like a movie constantly streaming. I rushed in there and dropped to one knee in front of her, hands on her forearms.
“What happened babe?”
She doesn’t answer me, but her body continues to tremble. And then I see it. The white stick with the little blue cross in the middle.
“Oh, Ollie.” I take her from the bench and into my lap. “It’s okay, we will figure everything out.”
“What about my practice? We aren’t ready for children yet.”
“We will figure it out. This is a good thing, you're going to be an amazing mom.”
We sit there in the bedroom, Ollie wrapped in my arms like a tortilla wraps around a burrito in silence for another few minutes. Secretly I'm ecstatic about this news. Knowing we decided to wait until everything felt more stable and consistent but I think this is the best news for us.
Except all I wanted to do was call you, to tell you the news to thank you for getting me here. And fuck man. This is hard. I want to say that I am over your death, that I have come to terms with losing you but I don’t think you ever come to terms with losing your best friend.
But I thought you should know.
I came home. I found Ollie. I went to therapy. I found a friendship with Cole again.
It wasn’t easy. She wasn’t willing to give me a chance immediately, she was shy and sheltered, with walls up protecting her heart. Her heart that I tore out of her chest. That I broke, and was asking for a chance to peel off the bandaids and to show her that the love we shared all those years ago still exists. That I loved her everyday for those ten years. That I will continue to love her everyday.
When I thought I finally broke a piece of the wall down, when we had a chance to live the life we both deserved we found out that Dad was cheating on Mom, and everything spiraled out of control.
And you weren’t here.
Cole and I got into a fight.
You still weren’t here.
And I wondered if you really had any idea what you were talking about in your letter. Did I deserve this torture for not saving you, for hurting Ollie?
But she came back. She told me she loved me, and she always would. She moved back to Fisher Creek and man you would love her. She is strong, and independent but also passionate and fierce. She is selfless in caring for me, her family and this entire community. You’d be two peas in a pod, tearing this town apart and ganging up on me with all of your jokes.
Now we are going to be a family. I am going to have a child, to take care of and love with me entire heart, and I am terrified but excited. I know this is going to be hard. But everything in life that is worth it is hard.
