Page 158 of Old Habits
This year, our baby girl was born on February 14th.
It wasn’t planned that way. She wasn’t due until early March but life always finds a way to drop a little coincidence on you now and then. Jovie probably would have preferred it if life picked a more convenient moment than right in the middle of the annual dance to break her water in front of the whole town. I’ve already had Tucker spread the word that the details of that janitorial disaster are never to be mentioned by anyone ever again.
I park in my spot in the driveway next to a black truck that wasn’t there when I left. As I step into the house, I move with soft, careful steps, making sure I don’t make too much noise.
I tiptoe into the hall, headed for the kitchen, when I see my father-in-law quietly stepping out of the baby’s room.
“Hey, Will,” he says, sliding the door closed behind him.
“Hank.” I nod. “Didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He points over his shoulder. “The folks at the plant put together a gift basket for you guys. Just swung by to drop it off before heading in.”
I continue into the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter. “Great. Thanks.”
He lingers in the doorway. “How you doing?”
“Uh…” I exhale at the mess of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. “Tired.”
“Oh, get used to that.” He chuckles. “That doesn’t go away.”
“Any advice?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he smirks, “don’t take advice from me and you should be all right.”
I laugh. “Sounds good.”
He turns to leave. “Anyway, I’m gonna take off.”
“Dinner this week?” I call after him. “We’re having a family thing on Saturday; give everybody a chance to gush over the baby. You should join us.”
“Sure.” He nods. “Just let me know a time.”
“Will do.”
“Bye.”
“Hey, Hank…” He turns back to me again. “So, what do you think?”
He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out again. “She’s gorgeous,” he says.
I smile. “Yeah, she is.”
“Take care of her.”
“I will.”
“Both of ‘em.”
I nod as he walks off, letting the thought sink in for several moments as the front door opens and closes behind him.
There hasn’t been a second since Jovie went into labor when I haven’t felt a blinding terror rattling my insides. Luckily, it hasn’t killed me yet. Hopefully, it never will.
Strangely, I love every moment of it.
I rush to stock the perishables away and abandon the rest to head into the baby’s room. As I enter the hallway, my eyes glide to the left wall out of habit. Postcards hang on a photo line, starting with one showing off an all-too-familiar road sign.
Clover, Kansas.