After everything that happened with Shane, I took a leave of absence from work. Everyone was incredibly understanding, with my boss calling me “one of the best he’d ever seen.” They all expected I’d be back as soon as I could muster the strength. But they couldn’t comprehend: I was on my way to a better existence, a life with Ethan and Gracie and our tiny little nub in my belly.

Taking Ethan and Gracie to the city for the first time was a strenuous yet remarkable experience. Ethan’s eyes darted around every corner of San Francisco, hunting for suspects. I joked that he didn’t belong in that world anymore, and he agreed, eyes wide and honest. “I don’t know if I ever belonged in this world,” he told me, “but I’ll try my best to learn, if you want me to.”

It wouldn’t be necessary. I was selling my stuff, giving up my apartment. The few things I boxed up went into the back of Ethan’s truck. He covered the truck with a tarp, ensuring that my books and records wouldn’t see any damage on the way.

Before we left San Francisco, I took Gracie and Ethan down to the Golden Gate Bridge, walking westward along the coast to a tiny beach. The beach had the smoothest sand, and only a few bathers—some of whom were naked, tucked away from the more fashionable and touristic beaches. Gracie stripped off her dress and swept toward the ocean, only to feel the crisp water along her toes. She shrieked, giggling. “It’s cold!”

“It’s always cold,” I called back, chuckling. “The girl’s lived in California all her life, and she’s hardly seen the Pacific.”

“We’ll get to that,” Ethan told me, squeezing my hand. “We’ll get to everything, with you by our side. No more hiding.”

“But a little bit of hiding, right?” I asked him, lifting my chin and kissing him. “In a world of our own.”

We ate at a nearby taco truck, watching as San Francisco hippies bumbled past. Gracie chatted about how she’d cleared up a space on the bookshelf for my books, and that she’d begun to read up on how to become a great big sister. “My teacher gave me a book to read. It’s about a little girl who gets jealous when her parents have a little baby. But I don’t think I’ll get jealous. I’ll finally have someone to play with.”

“What, we aren’t good enough for you?” Ethan asked, running his fingers through the perfect strands of her blond hair. Behind him, the sun had begun to dip beneath the surf, casting orange light over everything. It looked like the California dream I’d always hoped for.

Gracie rolled her eyes. At nearly seven years old, she had the sass of a much older girl—and the personality and the smarts to get her far. She and I never argued, but she often picked arguments with her father, showing him she could stand up for herself. I loved the bravery in her stance. It was so much of Ethan’s personality, all balled up in an adorable Gracie.

“Goodbye, San Francisco!” I called from the truck window, waving out to the city as we blasted back toward the mountains.

I waved to the BART train and to the graffitied buildings in the Mission District; I waved to Dolores Park and to the gritty dive bar I used to hit up when I’d been a much younger, less grounded and far less happy person. I could still taste the cheap beer on my breath, if I tried to.

“Is it strange to you that our baby won’t be born in the city you grew up in?” Ethan asked me, side-eyeing me as we took the exit toward the mountains.

“Our baby will only know the gorgeous, clean air of the mountains. I wouldn’t want anything else,” I reassured him.

As soon as we could, Ethan and I had gone together to the first of many baby screenings, watching the heartbeat on the monitor and the small, black-and-white smudge bobbing on the screen. It was miraculous. Ethan and I squeezed one another’s hands, as if we were sure the spinning planet would blast us off the earth if we didn’t hold on.

“Will you miss your job?” Gracie asked, piping up from the back seat.

I pondered this, remembering the long nights I’d spent at the office and the commitment I’d held to my work. I knew I could always return to it, that I could take up a practice in one of the smaller towns around the mountain.

“I’ll miss it,” I whispered, sounding hesitant, “but I would have missed this more, even if I’d never known it.”

“That’s kind of silly,” Gracie said, sounding contemplative, “but I think I know what you mean.”

Over January, February, and March, we settled into our home, learning one another’s rhythms. Ethan and I fell more and more in love as the baby grew in my stomach, becoming a small mound and then a profound beach ball. Ethan cooked me breakfast in the morning, gave me hot cocoa at night, and went on long walks with me through the forest—good to keep the muscles in my legs up, even as my stomach swelled.

“I’ve always been so committed to the gym,” I confessed to him once, as a slight drizzle peppered down around us in the forest. “And now, I’m more rotund than most pregnant women!”

“You’re perfect,” Ethan said, wrapping his arms around me, consoling me. “You look completely healthy and normal. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Our baby was due in June. The three of us waited, expectant, preparing another room for the nursery. Ethan added the room, hacking at trees and setting floorboards. When the room was in place, it was up to me to choose a color.

I chose a rich, earthy green, like the trees that fluttered outside the window. Taking many breaks throughout the day, Ethan and I painted the nursery, as Gracie speckled her paintbrush against a canvas beside us. She was painting it for her brother or sister, she told us.

These first months at the cabin in the woods were some of the happiest of my life, before the chaos of having my first baby. I could simmer in the knowledge that there was so much left to learn about the world. That my child would teach me more about myself than I had the capacity for. That my heart would stretch and grow bruised and battered, yet stronger than ever. I was lost in a daydream. The calm before the storm.

* * *

One afternoon at the end of May, I found Gracie alone at the edge of the lake, muttering to herself as she played.

I peered over her, grinning, wondering when she would notice me. She’d turned seven just a month before that, and had leapt into the new age like a wild animal: racing around the forest and trees, scabbing her knees, and painting more colorful and alive pieces for Serena and me. She was learning to take up space in the world. And she was also taking up her final space as the only child.

“Oh. Daddy, I didn’t see you up there!” she cried, allowing a smile to stretch across her face. Lifting a stick from the ground, she tossed it into the lake, causing ripples to flood toward the shore.

“You glad school’s over, squirt?” I asked her, choosing to begin with a soft conversation topic, before diving in deep.

“No,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I love school.”

“Summer is going to fly by. Before you know it, you’ll have a whole new teacher. So many new things to learn!” I told her, hardly able to believe it myself. This was how Gracie would grow up: one short year after another, summer coming as a surprise every time.

“But I want to stay home with you and Serena and take care of the baby,” she said, her voice carrying a slight whine. “I’m the big sister. I have so much to do.”

I felt a chuckle begin to bubble in my stomach. But I held back, sensing the gravity of Gracie’s situation. She’d pondered the changes from every angle.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Gracie,” I said, dropping down to my knees. I peered into her perfect blue eyes, which reflected the sunlight.

Far up at the cabin, I wondered if Serena was watching us. So often, I caught her marveling: her eyes big, her hands on her rotund stomach. It seemed she swallowed the world whole with those green eyes of hers.

“What is it, Daddy?” Gracie asked.

“It’s about the changes around here,” I said. I’d practiced the phrasing over and over again, and yet, I couldn’t quite nail it in the moment. How was I supposed to orchestrate the changes in our universe? Bringing my fingers through my hair, I pulled at it, waiting. “It’s just been you and me for as long as you can remember. Hasn’t it?”

Gracie nodded, her lips quivering. “But I love having Serena here.”

“Me too, sweet pea,” I said, my heart filling. “And I wanted to ask you if…if I could have your permission to do something about that.”

“Permission?” She grinned, looking sheepish. “Permission for what?”

“I want to ask Serena to marry me,” I said, my voice low, “but I don’t want to do it unless I get the okay from you first.”

Gracie looked like a spring rabbit. She burst upward, wrapping her arms around my neck and yanking me close. Immediately, I felt tears fall from her eyes onto my cheeks as she pressed the side of her face against mine.

“Oh, Daddy, does this mean she’ll be my mom?”

“Yes, baby,” I told her, my heart hammering. “She’ll love you just like your mother did. And you can call her anything you want.”

“She’s the only one I know,” Gracie whispered. I felt her ribcage quiver. “She’s the only one I want.”

Feeling rejuvenated, alive, I let Gracie carry on playing before heading back into the cabin. Serena popped out onto the front porch, her face bright, yet her eyes showing small, dark pools beneath them. She was fatigued all the time, her body ravaging her from the inside out.

“What are you so happy about?” she asked me, her smile blossoming.

“Oh, nothing,” I lied, wrapping my arms around her.

“I just read the paper,” she said, speaking into my shirt pocket. “It’s about Shane.”

I hadn’t thought about Shane in months. With a flash, the nightmare swarmed my head once more. How he’d followed Serena all the way from the city. How he’d planned to end my life, to blast a gunshot through Serena’s heart before doing away with me as well. My hands formed fists.

“What about him?” I demanded.

“It’s all good news,” Serena said. “The trial’s been drawn out. Going on for months. I hadn’t mentioned it to you because, well…I knew it upset you. I know you don’t like to take an active interest in the outside world, either.”

It was a fair point. Before Serena had arrived, I hadn’t even gotten the paper. I’d chosen to be nearly completely off the grid, unaware of the churning of the rest of the world.

“He’s been imprisoned for life,” Serena went on, clasping her hands together. “Without opportunity for parole. Ethan, it’s more than we could have ever hoped for. He won’t be back for us, baby. It’s over. For real, this time.”

I sighed heavily with relief. The two of us collapsed on the porch swing, rocking in the May breeze. I slid my hand over and over her belly, almost meditating. No matter the mistakes or the horrors of my past, they wouldn’t chase down my family.

We would be safe.

* * *

Our baby boy was born on June 14, Flag Day. A Gemini. The birth was long and arduous, with my labor lasting ten hours. Ethan stayed by my side the entire time, holding onto my hand and telling me silly stories to try to keep my mind far away from the pain jolting up and down my pelvis and back.

When they first laid our baby in my arms, I couldn’t comprehend his beauty. He was the smallest thing, with a scrunched red face, long eyelashes, and a head of thick, black hair. He wrapped his five fingers around the tip of my finger, clinging to me, telling me: it’s you I’m looking for.

As the tears fell down my cheeks, I turned to Ethan. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes centered on the baby in my arms. Without words, he reached forward and took the baby from me, holding onto him.

“Make sure his blankets are secure,” I whispered, already sure we were doing something wrong.

But Ethan was a natural, despite never seeing Gracie as a newborn. He whispered to the baby, saying, “This is the world, baby boy. This is your mama. And I’m your daddy.”

I shifted in bed, feeling like a truck had rammed over my body. I had never experienced such pain, mixed with such happiness. Flicking my blond curls behind my shoulders, I said, “Do any of the names we picked out fit him, do you think?”

Ethan’s eyes seemed to swallow the baby, assessing his every angle. With a soft laugh, he said, “His name is Everett. Doesn’t he look like an Everett?”

It had been my grandfather’s name. I’d said it over and over through the past few weeks, trying to warm Ethan up to the name. But Ethan had clung to more modern names, things like “Cody” or “Brett.” Now, with the baby before him, he saw the truth of the name.

“He does,” I whispered, feeling breathless. “Everett. Everett Tiller.”

“Welcome to the world, Everett Tiller,” Ethan echoed, bouncing him slightly.

The baby reached up and brought his tiny fingers up to his nose, rubbing at it. He opened his large, orb-like eyes, trying to take in the world. But it was too much, too many colors and too much light. Immediately, he closed them again, letting out a loud squawk.

“It’s his first word,” Ethan joked, passing him back toward me. I already felt my breasts full with the promise of nourishment, of milk. “He knows what he wants, just like his father. And he’ll demand it.”

We stayed just one night at the hospital. I slept perhaps two, maybe three hours at any given time, hardly able to dip into unconsciousness longer than that. Each time I opened my eyes, I yearned to see my baby boy again. “Is he still here?” I asked Ethan, my voice high-pitched and strained. For some reason, I felt I didn’t deserve this kind of happiness. That someone would catch me and take it all away.

Gracie was staying at the cabin with Ethan’s parents, who’d driven over just a day before I’d gone into labor. We loaded ourselves into the truck, ensuring Everett was tucked into his baby seat in the back, and drove toward our mountain home. My mother was on her way as well, ready to hold her grandchild close.

“Gracie’s going to freak out,” Ethan whispered, afraid to wake the baby as we drove. “She’s never seen anything this tiny before.”

“She’ll be the best big sister in the world,” I said, reaching for Ethan’s hand. I still felt exhausted—my body strung out and strange. My belly felt like a deflated balloon.

“You know what she’ll do first, don’t you?” Ethan said. “She’ll want to take a polaroid. Our first family portrait. She’s been talking about it all month.”

“That girl,” I said, shaking my head, a wide smile spreading across my face. “She’s really something.”

The truck cranked up the mountain, past the familiar stand in front of the national park, where I’d first paid admission to get up to the cabin. We waved hellos to the attendant, pointing into the backseat. He gave a knowing look and grin. Everett was expected. He was waited for. Now, he was making his grand ascent.

I carried the baby gingerly through the forest, down the secret path and into the clearing. On the porch, Ethan’s mother and father, Denise and Rick, awaited with Gracie between them. Off to the side, my mother was weeping with joy, her hands on her cheeks. Without waiting another moment, she burst down the steps and raced toward me.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered, hardly able to catch her breath. “I just didn’t think it would ever happen for you. I just didn’t—”

“I know,” I said, giggling slightly. “You thought I’d be latched to that job forever.”

“But now, look at you. Just look!” My mother brought her hands beneath Everett’s small frame, lifting him into her. She bobbed him slightly as he made cooing sounds. “Oh, listen! He’s saying hello.”

“He already loves you,” Ethan said, stepping forward. The light glinted across his dark curls.

By this time, Gracie had scampered down the steps, joining us on the grass. She wore no shoes, just a bright pink sundress, and her toes were coated in dirt. She was a country bumpkin, through and through. My heart swelled with love with her.

Leaning down, I said, “Do you want to hold your little brother?”

Gracie gave me a wide-eyed look. She’d known this day was coming for months, but nothing could have prepared her. Raising her hands upward, she gave me a small, hopeful shrug.

I placed Everett alongside Gracie, still clinging to him as she wrapped her arms around his soft blankets. In an adorable motion, she reached up and tapped his nose with a soft finger. In response, Everett coughed, opening his eyes wide. It was their first interaction.

And I knew they would know one another forever.

Denise and Rick stepped toward us, not wanting to overwhelm us, but unable to hold back a moment longer. Everett was passed around, cooed at, sung to. Our family beamed with love. When it seemed we couldn’t say a single thing more, Denise piped up, saying, “We have dinner ready on the porch.”

“Wait!” Gracie cried, leaping up. She dashed into the house, allowing the screen door to slam behind her. When she reappeared, she was carrying the polaroid camera, just as Ethan had suspected.

Ethan and I exchanged glances, both of us exhausted, yet brimming with happiness.

“Just one?” she asked us, blinking wildly. “Before dinner?”

“I’ll take it of the four of you,” my mother said, stepping forward.

She took the camera from Gracie, waving her hand and lining us up along the front steps of the cabin. In the back of my mind, I knew this image would be burned into our memories forever. Perhaps we wouldn’t remember the smell of the air, or the way the sunlight tinged everything with soft light. But we would remember our smiles, the way Ethan wrapped his sturdy arm around me and the way Gracie’s grin showed that she’d lost a tooth just the week before.

With a flash of light, the polaroid was stamped into eternity.

Inside, I laid Everett in his crib, in the main living room, and kept the porch door open, so we could see him and hear him. The remaining six of us arranged ourselves around the picnic table out front, in full view of the lake. Denise had stocked the serving plates with picnic fare: pulled pork and macaroni and cheese and watermelon, along with several other snacks and drinks. Exhausted, enamored with one another, we loaded up our plates. Just before diving in, my mother requested that she say a prayer.

We all agreed, feeling that we needed to give thanks for all that we had. For all that we’d been given.

As we ate, Ethan and I recounted the tale of the hospital.

“I was telling Ethan that I couldn’t push anymore,” I said, blushing slightly. “I told him I had to give up. It was just impossible!” I laughed. “But he told me that the Serena he’d met almost a year ago had never said that in her life. And he was right.”

“I can second that,” my mother said, brimming. “Always putting her mind to everything she did. Proving everyone wrong about her. One minute, she’s one of the top attorneys in San Francisco. Another, she’s living tucked away in the mountains, the mother of a gorgeous baby. Who knows what she’ll get up to next?” My mother’s eyes sparkled with her imagination.

“I hope I do,” Ethan said.

My eyes darted toward him as Ethan moved his sturdy frame from the picnic table, dropping down before me, onto one knee. He peered up at me with love in his eyes. His lips were parted, showing his white teeth. He seemed poised on a question. My heart hammered, knowing without knowing at all.

“Oh my goodness,” I whispered, drawing my hands to my mouth. “Ethan.”

“Serena, you can’t imagine how happy you’ve made Gracie and me over the past year. We were a little nervous there, when we thought you weren’t coming back. But you surprised us in the best way.” He chuckled, glancing toward Gracie. “Giving me a son, and Gracie a baby brother.”

Gracie rose up and raced toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She leaped up and down, unable to contain her excitement. “Ask her, Daddy!”

Ethan cleared his throat and whipped his dark hair back, curling it with his fingers. Reaching into his back pocket, he drew out a small black box, which he then snapped open. Inside, a diamond ring glinted.

“Gracie, make me the happiest man in the world. Marry me,” he said. His words were tender, pure and true, sending warmth to every crevice of my soul.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” I told him, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks. “I can’t imagine my life any other way.”

Ethan slipped the ring over my finger, placing it against the edge of my knuckle. It flashed as I drew it up, showing it to my mother beside me. The table was suddenly in uproar, everyone clapping their hands and cheering for us. We were only six people, but the roar was mighty, and it echoed across the lake and the mountains.

The sudden shouts and cheers caused Everett to stir in his crib. I felt him shift; already, it was an instinct. Rushing toward him, I brought my hands around his impossibly small body and brought him into me. “Shh. It’s going to be all right. We’re going to be a family, baby.”

With the rest of our family on the porch, Ethan came into the cabin with me, watching as I slipped my shirt from my breast and began to feed him. Everett latched easily, suckling with his eyes closed. I perched on the couch, gazing up at my fiancé, wondering at that fateful decision I’d made less than a year before.

“You know, I hadn’t been on a vacation in years?” I said, my voice stuttering slightly.

“Thank you for allowing yourself a better life,” Ethan murmured. “Without your bravery, I would have remained a hermit in this cabin forever.”

“And I would have been a different kind of hermit,” I told him.

We shared a kiss over Everett’s head, and our baby was soon slumbering once more. After laying him in his crib, I joined my people back on the porch to watch the descent of the sun into the trees.

Denise, Rick, and my mother left the following morning, returning to their homes on the coast and San Francisco. Although I was sad to see them go, I was grateful for the simplification. My focus remained wholly on Everett, learning the ins and outs of his routine, of his coughs and giggles. We soon developed a language all of our own. One other mothers couldn’t have comprehended, I was sure.

Ethan and I were married at the end of the year, in a Christmas Eve service by the lake. I wore a simple white dress with lace sleeves, and he wore a suit. When we posed for photographs, we did so only for Gracie, who snapped several with her camera. When we went to sleep that night—our first one as husband and wife, with baby and child—we did so knowing that Santa was on his way. That our first day of marriage would be with family, presents, coffee and pastries, with warmth and love by the fire.