Margot entered the kitchen of the Classic Six at seven A.M. Sunday morning. She crossed, bleary-eyed, to the espresso machine, completely ignoring anything else. She was a woman on a mission.

Eddie was already seated at the table, holding their baby girl in his arms.

“Good morning, Margie,” he greeted amicably. Margot grunted something that might have been assent, or it might have been profanity – Eddie wasn’t completely versed in her pre-coffee dialect – and punched the button on the machine. She had done it enough times without loading up the coffee first that Eddie had taken to getting ahead of her schedule: he always kept the shots preloaded now. It had taken discovering her sipping a cup of hot water, too tired to notice the lack of caffeine, for him to realize an intervention might be in order.

Margot didn’t like to be reminded of that episode.

She’d been up three times already that night tending to the baby. Eddie could tell she was feeling the weariness down to her bones, but she still somehow managed to look completely radiant. No makeup, no hair product, no cutting-edge designer dress. It was just Margot, his wife, standing in a shaft of sunlight in the apartment they shared, naturally luminous – and tantalizingly curvaceous – in the sheer nightgown he had bought for her. She glanced sidelong and caught him looking, but Eddie didn’t avert his eyes. No matter what exhausted mood she might be in, he wanted her to know that he couldn’t help looking when she entered the room. When he smiled, she smiled back.

But she didn’t hold his undivided attention for long. Their daughter gave a small, gasping choke, and stretched her limbs. Eddie’s eyes dropped, and he rocked her in his arms, murmuring nonsense words until she quieted and fell back asleep. When he looked to Margot again, he saw his wife’s eyes shimmering.

“How’s our Annabella?” she asked.

“Great. Beautiful. Extraordinary. Like her mother.” Eddie rocked the tiny bundle in his arms. “Why do you ask?”

“Because she hasn’t made a peep since you picked her up and brought her out here,” Margot said in a tone of fond exasperation.

“What can I say? She’s Daddy’s girl already.” He grinned.

“Is that a bet you’re willing to take?” Margot asked. “Because I’d say it’s game on, Daddy. I’m going to buy her absolutely everything her little heart desires when your back is turned.”

“We’re going to spoil her like hell,” Eddie noted.

“You better believe it.” Margot turned away momentarily to doctor her espresso. Eddie watched the elegant movement of her wrist as she stirred in the cream; he observed the minute way her body swayed in place. Meeting his daughter had only made him love the woman who gave birth to her all the more. He had never imagined he would find such utter euphoric happiness, especially not at seven in the morning after sharing another sleepless night with the two members of his new family.

He was going to get emotional if he kept thinking this way. He had better turn his attention to something else.

“Hey, so what’s this package about?” Eddie nodded to the unopened box on the table. “Did you order something?” It nagged at him a little to think he hadn’t anticipated something Margot might need, but he was more curious than anything.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Margot’s eyes were evasive. Suspiciously evasive. “Why don’t you open it?”

“I’ll see if I can manage,” Eddie chuckled. “But if I wake our daughter, it’s on you.”

“Deal,” Margot said. She turned back to doctor her coffee as Eddie dragged the package toward him.

“So what is it?”

“I took a page out of your book. I hope you don’t mind.” Margot alighted on the kitchen chair across from him, mug in hand. Her eyes, beautiful above the temporary lines of exhaustion that creased her face, were focused intently on him. He knew something was up, but he was willing to string the game along for a few moments longer.

“Really?” Eddie raised the package to his ear and gave it a little shake. He was stalling for time while he tried to guess its contents. “How so?”

Margot shrugged one thin shoulder. “I just wanted to take something off your plate,” she explained. “You’ve taken charge of so much for us.” She reached across the table to wiggle one of Annabella’s exposed toes. “Didn’t he?” she crooned. “Anyway, I remember that it was always such a relief to see that you’d thought of something when I was too preoccupied to even see straight. Sooo I thought I’d surprise you.”

“A surprise?” Eddie repeated. Normally he would have had some idea of what was coming, but this morning he found himself at a complete loss. Maybe Margot wasn’t the only one who needed espresso to resume normal brain function. As if reading his mind, Margot rose to refill his own coffee mug as Eddie tore into the delivery one-handed.

“Baby announcements,” he marveled as soon as he had cleared the packaging away. “Margot, I completely forgot about even ordering these.”

“I know.” Margot grinned. “What do you think of my design?”

“You did these yourself?” Eddie fanned a hand along the announcements. The more intently he looked, the more he thought he could identify Margot’s artistic stamp, and the touch that made her such a highly sought-after architect: the announcements were elegant and utilitarian, the words traced in soft silvers and grays on raised type. They were as gorgeous to look at as they were to feel, and they were completely unlike any birth announcements Eddie had ever personally received. “No powderpuff pink?” he joked. Of course Margot would forgo what would be expected.

“Look closer,” she encouraged.

Eddie drew Annabella in against his chest and leaned in to read the announcement. His sleep-deprived brain had glossed over everything except the name of their daughter; now, he saw the full message.

Mr. and Mrs. Jameson would like to invite you to join them in welcoming baby Annabella into the world.

“Mister and Misses…” He still couldn’t comprehend what he was reading. “Margot, did you mean to…?”

“Announce our marriage alongside the birth?” Margot came around the table with his coffee, and Eddie shifted Annabella so that his wife could seat herself on his thigh. She set his mug down and kissed his cheek. “Of course I did.”

“I…” Eddie was choked for words. He glanced between his child and the woman he loved, and couldn’t think of what he was meant to say – he, Eddie Jameson, semi-famous ad exec and formerly notorious party boy. The guy who could talk his way into, and out of, anything, had expended every word that might possibly describe how he was feeling in that moment.

Margot giggled, and swooped in to plant another quick kiss. “You should see your face right now,” she murmured. “It’s so cute. Almost as cute as our daughter.”

Eddie’s eyes burned with emotion. When Margot tried to steal another peck, he leaned in and captured her lips with his own. She sighed against his mouth and leaned in, threading her arms around the back of his neck. “I love you, Mrs. Jameson,” he murmured.

“I love you, Mr. Jameson,” she returned.

Between them, the biggest surprise of all – the one who had arrived unexpectedly, and brought their beautiful family together – slept on.