"We can afford it," he says.
"You don't know that."
"I do.I ran the numbers."
"Of course you did."
"That's what I do.I plan."
"Control freak."
"Recovering control freak."
I laugh, and he grins at me.
After dinner, we clean up together.Then we settle on the couch to watch a movie.But I'm asleep before the opening credits finish.
I wake up hours later to Timothy carrying me to bed.
"I can walk," I mumble.
"I like carrying you."
He sets me down on the bed and pulls the covers over me.Then he climbs in beside me and pulls me close.
"Love you," I say.
"Love you too."
***
SATURDAY MORNING, WEdrive out to Maple Street to look at the house.It's a ranch-style with white siding and blue shutters.The yard is huge, with big oak trees and a swing set the previous owners left behind.
"It's nice," I say as we pull up.
"It's more than nice.It's ours."
"We haven't even seen the inside yet."
"Doesn't matter.I can feel it."
The realtor, a woman named Linda, meets us at the door.She's cheerful and talkative, and she walks us through every room.
The kitchen is updated with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.The living room has a fireplace.The master bedroom is huge with a walk-in closet.
But it's the third bedroom that makes my chest ache.
"This would make a great office," Linda says."Or a nursery."
Timothy glances at me, and I can see the question in his eyes.
"Someday," I say quietly."Maybe."
He nods, and we move on.
The backyard is even better than the front.There's a deck, a fire pit, and enough space for a garden.
"What do you think?"Timothy asks when Linda steps away to take a phone call.
