Snapper’s SUV was parked near the winery building, and behind it came Bit’s, towing a flatbed loaded with equipment.
“About time you showed your face,” Bit called out as I crossed the yard. “Where’ve you been?”
“Contemplating my existence,” I shot back. “Deep philosophical stuff. Shit you wouldn’t understand.”
“Philosophy.” Bit snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”
Snapper appeared from around the side of the flatbed, wiping his hands on his jeans. “He was staring at that ring again. I can tell by the look on his face.”
“I was not.”
“You were.” He grinned. “Just ask her already.”
Bit stood near his truck, arms folded across his chest. “What’s the holdup, little brother? Cold feet?”
“No.” I grabbed a toolbox from the flatbed, more to give my hands something to do than because I needed it. “I want it to be right.”
“It’s Isabel.” Snapper fell into step beside me as we walked toward the winery. “You’re having a baby together. You’re building a life here. What could be more right than that?”
“I want the moment to be special.”
“Special how? You planning to hire a mariachi band? Skywrite her name? Rent out a stadium?”
“No, I just—” I set down the toolbox and turned to face him. “I want her to know how much I love her. Not just the baby. Her.”
Snapper’s teasing expression softened. “She knows you do. There’s no doubt.” He gazed off in the distance. “I get it. You wait for the right moment. Try to make a plan. Then the woman you love shows up Christmas morning at dawn, and you sink to your knees because you know that is not just the right moment. It’s the only moment.” He held my gaze. “All you need to be is sure. Are you?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
“Then, stop overthinking it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. She just needs to hear how you feel, and she needs to believe it. That’s all.”
We spent the afternoon working on the winery building, cleaning the equipment, replacing rusted fittings, and assessing what could be salvaged and what needed to go. My brothers gave me grief about everything from my technique with a wrench to the color Isabel had chosen for the tasting room walls, and by the time the sun started sinking toward the hills, my muscles ached and my mind was quiet.
This was what I needed. Physical work. My brothers’ company. The reminder that I wasn’t building this life alone.
Isabel texted as they were loading up to leave.Heading home. See you in an hour.
Home. She called it home now. It meant more than she probably knew.
I showered and changed, then sat on the edge of the bed and took out the ring one more time. The diamond caught the fading light, and I turned it between my fingers.
Tonight,I thought. And then pushed the thought away.
We had the anatomy scan in the morning. The appointment where we’d finally see our baby in detail and confirm that everything was developing the way it should. That felt like the moment to focus on first.
The ring could wait one more day.
Isabel layon the examination table in the doctor’s office, wearing a gown that opened in the front while I held her hand and tried to look calmer than I felt.
Isabel’s fingers tightened on mine. She was nervous too, I realized. Hiding it better than I was, but nervous.
“You know the drill, this might be a little cold,” the doctor warned before squeezing gel onto Isabel’s skin.
She flinched, then laughed. “It feels like you kept it in the freezer.”
The doctor laughed too, then moved the wand across her stomach. The screen flickered to life and shapes emerged from the static—curves and shadows that slowly morphed into something recognizable.
A head. A spine. Tiny hands with fingers I could count. Feet that kicked and flexed as we watched.
