Jace

When you want life to move slow so you can enjoy and embrace every moment, that’s when it decides to speed the fuck up, everything passing by in a blur.

Nova’s hand squeezes mine as we ride up in the elevator to her doctor’s office. She bounces on the balls of her feet with nervous excitement.

She bites her lip and looks up at me. “What do you think the baby is?”

“Girl,” I answer resolute. “I’m positive.”

“Really?” She raises a brow.

“What?” I probe. “You don’t think so?”

She shakes her head. “I honestly don’t have a gut feeling for either. I guess since I already had a boy I see myself more with a son than a daughter, but I’d be happy either way.”

The elevator dings happily and we step out. Nova goes to sign in and I take a seat.

The room is full of women in all stages of pregnancy, a few spouses and partners, and even a couple of kids running around.

Nova comes and sits down beside me. I immediately put my hand on her belly. I can’t help it. I haven’t felt the baby move yet, but Nova is beginning to feel flutters, just no big kicks yet.

Nova looks up at me, her brown eyes bright and happy. “We’re going to find out if we’re having a son or daughter, it’s … crazy.”

“Life’s crazy,” I reply.

Life is a series of ups and downs, goods and bads, epic fucking moments, and ones that shatter you to pieces. This is an epic fucking moment. It’s one of those moments that changes your life and there are very few moments like that.

“Novalee Clarke,” they call thirty minutes later—because doctor’s offices like to make you arrive fifteen minutes early and wait double the time.

Nova grabs my hand and we follow the nurse back. 

Nova gets checked over and then we’re left to wait for the doctor.

The room is thick with our anticipation. Nova reaches for my hand and I place it in hers. Her skin is slightly clammy and she gives me a nervous smile.

Finally, after five hundred fucking years, her doctor makes it into the room.

“Hi, Nova, how are you?” she asks, washing her hands in the sink in the room.

“I’m doing good. Feeling the baby move some, but nothing big yet.”

Dr. Illias smiles kindly. “That’s great. You’ll probably feel bigger movements soon.”

She sits down on her stool and rolls it over to the ultrasound monitor.

She places a piece of paper into the band of Nova’s pants to keep the goo from getting on her clothes.

She squirts the goo on her stomach next and pulls out the wand.

The baby pops up on the screen and I feel my heart clench knowing that’s my son or daughter. The baby kicks its legs around wildly, like it can’t sit still. Dr. Illias takes some measurements before getting down to business.

“All right, Mom and Dad, are you ready to know the gender?”

“Yes, please.” Nova nods enthusiastically.

“Ready,” I declare, leaning forward, Nova’s hand still clasped in mine.

She points to the screen. “That right there tells me without a doubt you’re having a boy.”

Nova bursts into tears. “We’re having a son.”

I don’t have words, so I do what I do best.

I kiss the shit out of her.

I stand back and appraise my handiwork. 

“What do you think?” I ask Nova.

“It’s perfect.” She smiles, looking around the small nursery.

It’s been two weeks since we found out we’re having a son. It took Nova that long to decide on a paint color for the nursery. Not wanting to do a traditional blue, she decided on a gray color. 

“I want to paint a mural,” she muses, looking around. “Maybe a mountain or …” she trails off.

“Wait a fucking minute, you paint?” Considering we’ve been together for a long fucking time now, there isn’t much I don’t know, so I’m shocked.

“I used to when I was in high school and middle school. I’m sure it’s like riding a bike, it has to come back to you, right?”

I shrug. “How the fuck would I know?”

“Let’s go shop for the nursery and pick up some paint for the mural while we’re out.”

“Whatever you say, you’re the boss.”

I change my clothes since they’re covered in paint and wash up as best I can, but some paint still speckles my arms and it’s caked under my nails. Fuck, it’s even splattered in my hair. Whatever.

I drive my truck to the store, since we have more room to haul stuff if we decide to buy anything.

We arrive at the store and I follow Nova inside. She heads straight for the cribs.

“I don’t want to do gray,” she tells me. “That’d be too matchy-matchy with the walls.”

She walks around, appraising them all. She makes another round and finally stops in front of one.

“What do you think?” she asks.

The crib is what I would describe as modern, or maybe it’s contemporary, fuck if I know. It’s white with clean lines and angled feet on the bottom.

“I like it.”

“Do you like it? Or love it?”

“If you love it then I love it. It’s cool. This isn’t really my forte.” I motion to all the baby stuff around us. “So go with your gut.”

She laughs. “But I want you to love it too.”

“I do,” I assure her.

“Okay, this crib. We’ll get a matching changing table, let’s go look at the bedding.,” she rambles. 

I let her drag me to another part of the store and we begin going through all the bedding.

I give little “mhmms” and “ehs” now and then.

Finally, she settles on one with a gray and white simple design. 

Nova’s never been a big shopper, but when it comes to baby stuff, apparently she’s a fiend. We’ve held off, waiting to find out the gender, and now the beast has been unleashed.

She tosses the sheets she’s picked into the cart I’m pushing and then we move on to blankets and then clothes.

The cart is overflowing by the time she’s done.

God help me.

We check out and the staff helps us load the furniture, including a white rocker she picks at the last minute.

I want to argue white’s going to get really fucking dirty with a kid, but I decide to keep my mouth shut. 

We stop at the hardware store on the way home and Nova picks out her paints, careful to get ones which are safe for pregnant women. 

When we get home I’m tasked with carrying everything into the apartment while she immediately gets to down painting.

It takes me six trips to get everything and I have to con a neighbor into helping me carry the heavy items.

Once it’s done I collapse on the couch and drape my arm over my eyes—telling the world I’m closed for fucking business at the moment.

I’m about to doze off when Nova screams.

I sit straight up. “What? What’s wrong?”

“The baby kicked! Like a big kick. I think you can feel it.” She comes running toward me, a slight waddle altering her steps. She grabs my hand and presses it to her stomach. “Just wait,” she whispers, like a raised voice might cause the baby not to kick.

I hold my breath, like that might make a difference too, and wait.

A moment later I feel it.

I laugh and my eyes meet Nova’s. “Amazing.” I feel another kick against my palm and I shake my head. “He’s real,” I whisper.

It’s not like I didn’t know he was real, but it didn’t feel real to me. 

Nova places her hand over mine and she has a wistful look on her face.

I know this must be so different for her, compared to her first pregnancy. 

She sits down beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder, and I keep my hand on her stomach.

I’ve never felt like I had the whole world at my fingertips, that I was worth anything, or could be anything, but this, right here, is more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

A love.

A life.

A forever.