“Yeah,” she said. “I’m ready.”
We walked out together.
The morning air was cool. She looked back at the cabin once before getting into the truck, and I let her have the moment without rushing it.
I started the truck and we pulled out down the narrow road through the trees.
For a while neither of us spoke. She watched the woods pass by with one hand resting over her stomach. The other lay in her lap.
Then she said, “What happens first when we get back?”
“My mother cries.”
“She definitely will.”
“Harlow starts talking before anyone else can.”
“She definitely will too.”
“My father acts calm and fails.”
She laughed and leaned back in the seat.
“And you?”
“I get you inside the gates.”
“That was possessive.”
“That was fact.”
She shook her head and smiled out the window while the
