79

Sierra's POV

I was forty-two years old when my body decided to play the biggest joke of my life.

Katie was fifteen. Fifteen! She was already talking about college and boys and how embarrassing we were. Louis and I were finally at the easy part. The "we survived parenting a teenager" part. The "we can sleep in on weekends" part.

Or so I thought.

It started with the smell. Coffee. I'd loved coffee my whole life. But one morning, Louis made his usual pot and the smell hit me like a wall.

I ran to the bathroom. Threw up. Came back pale and shaky.

"You okay?" Louis asked, concerned.

"Fine. Just... coffee smelled weird."

He looked at me funny but didn't push.

The next morning, same thing. And the next. And the next.

"You're not fine," Louis said on day four. "I'm calling the doctor."

"It's probably a virus."

"For four days?"

"Viruses can be long."

He gave me The Look. The one that said he wasn't buying it.

---

Dr. Patel was young and nice and very professional. She ran tests. She asked questions. She looked at me with that carefully neutral face doctors use when they're about to say something unexpected.

"Mrs. Crowe," she said, "your tests came back."

"And?"

She paused. Just a beat too long.

"You're pregnant."

I stared at her. Blinked. Stared some more.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Pregnant. Approximately eight weeks along."

"Eight weeks?"

"Yes."

"But I'm forty-two."

"Yes, that makes it unexpected. But not impossible."

I sat there in the crinkly paper gown, the room spinning around me. Pregnant. At forty-two. With a fifteen-year-old at home.

"I need to sit down," I said.

"You are sitting down."

"I need to lie down."

She helped me lie back on the exam table. Brought me water. Let me process.

After a long minute, I managed to speak. "Is the baby okay? Healthy?"

"Everything looks perfect. Healthy heartbeat, good size, right on track."

A baby. A healthy baby. Inside me.

I started laughing. Then crying. Then laughing again.

Dr. Patel looked concerned. "Should I call your husband?"

"No," I gasped. "I need to tell him myself. He's going to die."

"Die?"

"Figuratively. He's going to figuratively die."

---

I sat in the exam room for a long time after Dr. Patel left.

Just sitting. One hand on my belly. That flat, normal belly that apparently had a tiny human growing inside it.

Eight weeks. That meant the baby was due in... I did the math. Late fall. November.

A fall baby.

Katie had been a spring baby. Easy pregnancy. Easy birth. Easy everything.

This one? This one was already surprising me.

I thought about Louis. How would he react? He was forty-five. He was finally relaxing, finally enjoying life without the constant fear and stress of the early years.

And now this.

I thought about Katie. Fifteen years old, about to be a sister. About to have her whole world turned upside down.

I thought about the house. Big enough for another baby? Of course. Money wasn't an issue. But energy? Patience? Did we have enough left for another round of sleepless nights and terrible twos and teenage drama?

I didn't know.

But as I sat there, hand on my belly, something shifted.

A feeling. Warm and scary and wonderful all at once.

Another baby. Another chance. Another piece of our family.

I started crying again. Happy tears this time.

---

I walked out to the waiting room. Louis was there, pacing. He saw my face—red eyes, weird smile—and stopped dead.

"What? What is it?"

I couldn't say it. I just stood there.

"Sierra, you're scaring me."

"Louis..." I took a breath. "I'm pregnant."

The words hung in the air between us.

He stared at me. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"Pregnant," he repeated.

"Yes."

"Pregnant pregnant."

"Is there another kind?"

He sat down. Hard. The waiting room chair squeaked under him.

"Pregnant," he said again, like he was testing the word.

"Yes, Louis. Pregnant."

He was quiet for a long moment. His face went through about a dozen expressions—shock, confusion, disbelief, something that might have been fear, and then...

Then a smile. Small at first. Then bigger. Then huge.

"A baby," he said. "We're having a baby."

"Is that... are you happy?"

He stood up and grabbed me, pulling me into a hug so tight I couldn't breathe.

"I'm happy," he said into my hair. "I'm so happy."

"But we're old, Louis. Katie's almost grown."

"So? We get to do it again. We get another chance."

I pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were wet. Happy wet.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I guess we do."

---

We sat in the car for a long time after leaving the doctor's office.

Just sitting. Holding hands. Processing.

"A baby," Louis said for the hundredth time. "We're having a baby."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I can't believe it."

"Me neither."

He turned to look at me. "Are you scared?"

"Terrified. You?"

"Terrified." He squeezed my hand. "But also... excited. Really excited."

"I know. Me too."

"We're crazy."

"Completely."

He laughed. I laughed. We sat there laughing in the car like two idiots.

"We have to tell Katie," I said finally.

Louis's face shifted. "Oh boy."

"Yeah."

"She's going to freak out."

"Definitely."

"Good freak out or bad freak out?"

"Probably both."

He nodded slowly. "We should do it tonight. At dinner. Together."

"Together," I agreed.

---

We drove home in a daze.

The world looked different. Brighter. Weirder. Full of possibility.

I kept touching my belly. That little bump that wasn't really a bump yet. That tiny person who was about to change everything.

"Stop touching your stomach," Louis said, but he was smiling.

"I can't help it."

"You're going to wear a hole through your shirt."

"Worth it."

He reached over and put his hand on top of mine. On my belly.

"Hey in there," he said softly. "It's your dad. You don't know me yet, but I'm going to be the best dad in the world. I promise."

I started crying again. Hormones.

"See? This is your fault."

He kissed my forehead. "Everything is my fault. I accept that."

---

That night, we sat Katie down at the kitchen table.

She knew something was up. We were too quiet. Too serious.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking between us. "Did someone die? Is Grandma okay?"

"Everyone's fine," I said. "We just need to tell you something."

"Okay..." She drew the word out, suspicious.

Louis and I looked at each other. Silent communication. *You tell her. No, you tell her.*

Finally, I just blurted it out.

"I'm pregnant."

Silence. The longest silence of my life.

Katie's face went through about fifteen expressions in ten seconds. Confusion. Disbelief. Shock. More confusion. And then—

"You're WHAT?"

"Pregnant. You're going to have a sibling."

"A sibling?" Her voice went high and squeaky. "Like a baby? A real baby?"

"Yes, a real baby."

"You're forty-two!"

"I'm aware."

"You're old!"

"Also aware."

She stood up. Started pacing the kitchen. "This is crazy. This is insane. You can't have a baby. You're my parents. You're supposed to be done with babies."

"We thought we were done too. But sometimes life surprises you."

She stopped pacing. Stared at me. Then at Louis. Then back at me.

"A baby brother or sister?"

"We don't know yet. Too early to tell."

She was quiet for another long moment. Her face was unreadable.

I held my breath. Louis held my hand.

Then Katie's face cracked. A smile. Small at first, then bigger, then huge.

"I'm going to be a big sister," she said softly.

"Yes."

"Like, for real. Not just in theory."

"For real."

She ran at me and hugged me so hard I nearly fell off the stool. "This is so weird. This is so crazy. I'm going to be a big sister!"

Louis joined the hug. The three of us, squished together in the kitchen.

"I love our weird family," Katie mumbled into my shoulder.

"We love you too, baby."

"I'm not a baby anymore. There's going to be a real baby."

"Then you can be the big one. The responsible one."

She groaned. "That means I have to change diapers, doesn't it?"

"Absolutely."

"This is the worst."

But she was smiling. So were we.

---

Later that night, after Katie went to bed, Louis and I sat on the back porch.

The garden was dark. Quiet. The stars were out.

"A baby," Louis said again.

"You have to stop saying that."

"Why?"

"Because every time you do, I start crying."

He put his arm around me. Pulled me close.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"I think so. Scared, but happy."

"Me too." He kissed my head. "We're going to be okay. We're going to figure this out."

"I know."

"We have each other. We have Katie. We have a whole family who loves us."

"I know."

"And we have this little one." He put his hand on my belly. "This little surprise who's going to make everything crazy and wonderful."

I put my hand on top of his.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too. Forever."

"Forever and ever."

We sat there in the dark, holding each other, holding our future.

A baby. After all these years. A new chapter. A new adventure.

We had no idea what was coming. No idea how hard it would be, how wonderful, how terrifying, how beautiful.

But we had each other.

And that was enough.

That was always enough.

---

The next morning, I woke up early. The sun was just coming up. Louis was still asleep, his arm around me.

I lay there for a while, just thinking.

A baby. Another baby.

I was forty-two. Louis was forty-five. Katie was fifteen.

We were starting over. Right when we thought we were done.

But as I lay there, hand on my still-flat belly, I felt something. Not a kick—too early for that. But something. A flutter. A feeling.

*Hello in there*, I thought. *I'm your mom. I'm scared and excited and completely unprepared. But I'm already yours. And you're already mine.*

The flutter came again. Or maybe it was just my imagination.

Didn't matter. Real or imagined, it was ours.

"Hey," Louis mumbled, waking up. "You okay?"

"I'm perfect."

"Liar." He kissed my shoulder. "But a beautiful liar."

We lay there as the sun rose, holding each other, holding our secret.

The world was about to change.

And for the first time in a long time, I couldn't wait to see what came next.