“How about you?” I ask.
“Last year was ‘rise.’” Rising to my potential, rising to meet challenges. This year, my word is ‘expand.’”
“Good one,” I say, pulling her closer.
“As inexpansion,” she adds.
“Like expanding the bakery.”
She nods, then rests her palm on her stomach.
I look down and then up at her. The corner of her mouth curls into a smile.
“Expand as in—” Cupping my hand, I hold it out at about pregnant belly distance.
Nina’s eyes crescent, filling with tears—happy ones, the kind that seem to come easier now that we’ve stopped being afraid of all the good that’s in store for us.
“We’re having a baby?” I ask at the same time someone shouts, “Ten seconds!”
Suddenly, everyone is counting down to midnight and the new year.
“Yes!” she hollers over the clamor.
“Nine!”
“Seriously?” I ask.
“Eight!”
She nods.
“When did you find out?”
“Seven!”
She smiles. “This morning.”
“Six!”
“And you waited to tell me until now?” I ask.
“Five!”
“We’ve been busy all day and hardly had a moment alone. I wanted you to know before—” She tips her head toward the stairs where the kids gather, peering through the spindles.
“Four!”
I draw her close. “This is exciting! I can’t believe it!”
“Three!”
“But there’s more. We’re going to have?—”
“Two!”
“Twins?” I ask, wondering if that was the conclusion to her sentence.
“Yes!” she answers.
