Page 157 of The Other Side

Her cry mellows, the melody jagged for the next minute. The hollers from the backyard whip my gaze to the sliding doors, and Brant’s bent on his haunches. He’s shoveling snow into a huge ball with his gloved palms, and Rex’s helping on the other side. Of course, his small hands can only dig up so much.

Lacey’s stuck to Brant like a badge, as always. Her tiny hand sits on his upper arm, just watching him concoct this magical igloo for her. She’s always fascinated by her daddy, and I guess that’s not the worst trait she inherited from me. Maybe snoring like me from time to time, but never that.

No, never that.

Kara’s back to sleeping soundly, and I rest the monitor on the granite. My slippers stroll over the kitchen tile until I’m crossing the living room threshold. Then I’m admiring the ornament again.

My palms greet my hips, head angling as I digest the serene glow. The colorful Christmas lights are sprinkled on the nine-foot tree, and wafts of pine tickle my nose.

The peace absorbs into my skin when I stand before the built-in shelves. My stare eventually rests on the framed page of the scrapbook. I scan over our wedding photo—our first kiss as husband and wife under an arch of ivy.

Simple.

Minimal.

Us.

A smile curves my lips, and I read the title I’ve read a thousand times before⁠—

Two Doves Soaring … On The Other Side.

The photo never fails to plant pleasure inside of me. And today is always the day it blossoms—Christmas Eve.

Not because of our station wagon rendezvous years ago.

But because I know I can finally look forward to tomorrow.

I get to wake up with two little rugrats climbing on top of our comforter. They’ll predictably beg us to rip open gifts from Santa. At eighteen months old, Kara’s not enormously interested just yet, but she’ll get there.

It’s the morning I always dreamed of.

I bustle my lips in the corner, peeking down at my sheer, black leggings. Then I’m slipping my Uggs and winter coat on, groaning when I have to bend at seven months pregnant.

I swipe the video monitor from the granite before tugging the glass door open. Giggles and fake groans tumble over the snow, and Brant’s head shoots up from his lying position.

The kids are glued to his chest before Rex stumbles off Brant. “Mommy! Come on!” Rex sings, trudging through the snow. He’s knee-deep in the slush, his green suit swooshing with the motion before Brant’s walking with Lacey.

“Okay, okay, let me help Mommy down!” Brant calls after him. “Don’t jump on her!”

“I know! She has a baby in her belly!” Rex answers.

I sigh through a smile, extending my gloved hand to Brant’s sodden one. My free palm is still tucked in my coat pocket with the baby monitor, and then I’m slowly stepping down.

The snow crumbles under my weight, my boots burrowing into the fluffy ice. Rex and Lacey scurry back to the boulder of snow, and Brant wraps an arm around me. Cocooning me into his side as we watch our two children.

They’re grinning from ear to ear, slapping each other with snowballs and laughing endlessly. All while they chase each other around.

They’re so small, but ready to take on the entire world and all its adventures.

I take a moment to slip the video monitor out of my pocket. Kara is still sleeping. The chilly wind whisks through my loose tendrils, and then Brant’s lips connect to my temple.

“Our family is almost complete,” he coos.

His free hand rests on my pregnant belly, and I tip my chin up to greet his hazel stare. “I can’t wait,” I reply, laying my hand over his.

A faint smirk tugs on his mouth as our cloaked fingers weave together. “You’re a trooper. Fourth rodeo.”

I shake my head, brows knitting in the center of my forehead. “Don’t ask me to do this again,” I grumble playfully. “I refuse.”