The aurora borealis was everything Violet had ever dreamed it would be, but it was so much more. She stared at the sky, mesmerized by the colors, the purples and blues, the streaks of light swirled together with the stars. It simply couldn’t be real, and yet it was.
“It does this all winter?”
“All winter,” Richard replied. “Until around March.”
“How can something so incredible exist in our lowly world?”
Richard wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her against his chest as they both stared upwards. This hill had become their favorite spot, their own private place to sit and talk and dream, and here, she knew anything was possible. Except this—this incredible display of creation and might and power. She felt as though the entire universe was on display for her to see, exceeding every expectation she’d ever had and pulling science and God together in a way that finally made sense. She would never be the same after this night—she knew it.
After a few minutes, they sank onto their blanket, but didn’t take their eyes from the sky. She’d been waiting for this since she’d first arrived in Flying Squirrel, and now she didn’t know how she’d sleep a wink all winter—she’d want to come out here every night, no matter the weather, to see this phenomenon over and over again.
Except maybe that wasn’t the best idea, considering that the temperatures would drop so very far, and she might not be able to tolerate the cold.
“Richard, do you remember a conversation we had when we were first married about how you hoped I’d teach the children everything I knew about the stars?”
“Yes,” he mumbled into her hair, where he’d buried his face when he wrapped his arms around her.
“I think that showing them the Northern Lights is a good start, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said, lifting his head a little. “I think they’d be just as fascinated as you are, seeing that they’re your children.”
“Well, can you think of a better time to start teaching them than right now?”
Richard looked at her curiously, then blinked. “Are you . . . are you saying . . .”
Violet grinned. “Yes, Daddy. You can expect your own little Murray in about seven months.”
He turned her to face him. “A baby.”
“Yes, a baby. I’m not talking about an ocelot.”
He laughed, gathering her up into his arms. “This is incredible. Just incredible. My mother is going to be ecstatic—she’ll probably want to be here as soon as the baby comes. Baby. Oh, my.” He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. “A baby. I think I need to breathe.”
Violet grinned. His reaction was everything she’d hoped it would be—he was clearly overjoyed, but also surprised. She imagined that he’d make a wonderful father—he was so kind and thoughtful with her, he couldn’t possibly be anything else.
“I wonder something,” she said, feeling a little shy to bring it up. “I know it’s odd, but if it’s a girl, what do you think of naming her Aurora?” She motioned at the sky above them, streaked with vibrant color.
“Naming our beautiful daughter after the most beautiful thing in nature? I approve,” Richard said. “But listen—if we have a boy, there’s no way you’re naming him Borealis.”
Violet threw her head back and laughed. Nothing, nothing in the world could ever be more perfect than this moment—sharing her wonderful news with the man she loved under the most incredible sky she’d ever seen. She’d thought she was happy many times before, and she had been, but it seemed that fate had decided to show her greater and greater levels of happy until she was ready to burst. What a beautiful gift.