Page 71 of Requiem

I’m perched on the side of the tub, unable to move or speak. Helpless to stop this collision with destiny.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

The house is absolutely still. I can’t even hear Matthew pacing the floor anymore. He must’ve finally sat down. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the Long Island Railroad as it makes its way into Port Jefferson from points further west.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

With every passing second, I know I’m closer to my fate, my new reality. This little bomb has the power to change everything. Or, it may be a dud. It may simply end its countdown with nothing more than a reminder that anything may change at any time.

DING!

I jump up and stand, staring. I take a deep breath. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I can do this,” I whisper to myself as I take a tentative step toward the vanity, where the pregnancy test is resting, face down, on a washcloth. I close my eyes for just a moment and then open them again with resolve. Here goes nothing. Or everything.

I don’t pick it up all at once. Instead, I carefully lift the edge of it, tipping it back little by little until I see a tiny bit of color. Blue. A little more and I see part of a dash. And a little more, a line crossing it. A dash with a line crossing it. It’s a plus sign. A beautiful, bright blue plus sign.

I rush to the door and throw it open, ready to propel myself through the bedroom, but I stop short. He’s already there, standing right outside the threshold, waiting …almost fearfully. I hold up the blue plus sign for him to see. He looks from it and to me, and then back to it again.

“Is that … a plus?” he asks, as if he doesn’t trust his eyes.

I nod.

In an instant, he’s twirling me around, and we’re both laughing. When we stop spinning, he puts me down, but doesn’t let me go. His lips find their way to mine in a kiss that is as light and soft as feathers.

“Are you happy?” I ask him when he finally pulls his mouth from mine.

I see tears start to well in his eyes. He can’t speak; he only nods.

“You’re going to be a daddy,” I whisper.

Now comes his smile, making the skin around his eyes crinkle.

“I’m already a daddy, Julia,” he reminds me.

“Yes,” I say, putting a hand to the side of his face.

As if on cue, a high-pitched shriek comes over the baby monitor. Matthew sets me back down on the floor and delivers a kiss to the top of my head.

“That would be our firstborn, in need of a diaper change, judging by the sound of it,” he says. “I’ll get him, you relax. It’s time to start taking better care of yourself, Mrs. Ayers.”

“Matthew,” I protest with a laugh, “we’ve still got a long way to go. Please don’t start treating me like I’m made of glass already.”

“Oh, so the idea of a nice long bubble bath before bed isn’t appealing to you then? Would you rather put on the hazmat suit and get David into a clean diaper yourself?”

Well, since he put it like that … The corners of my lips twitch with the threat of a smile.

“Uh-huh,” he says, pointing to my face. “I saw that. Go! Soak until you’re a shriveled little prune!”

He doesn’t have to tell me again. I start to head back to ground zero so I can immerse myself in lavender bubbles, but I stop in the doorway and turn back to him again.

“I think it’ll be a girl this time,” I say.

“You think?”

I nod.

“Well, I think we should pick a boy’s name too, just incase,” he smiles.

“I want a musical name this time,” I blurt.