A moment of joy

It had been only a few hours since I last laid eyes on him, my love, my Eric. His smooth cheeks, gently kissed by the woodsy smell of shaving cream, lingered in my memory. 

I love that smell. 

With a hand on my lower abdomen, I waited on the bench outside our favorite lunch spot. I sucked in the cold air, but the chill couldn’t touch me.

I knew I looked crazy, but that sweet smile I discovered just two hours ago wouldn’t leave my lips. I didn’t want it to. Pure elation filled my veins, and I greedily basked in it. My heart fluttered, warmth spreading through my core, and I endured the constant threat of joyful tears. 

Feigning to bite my thumbnail, I tried to cover my lips. It was no use. The stone walkway, the storefronts, and the dead leaves on the breeze witnessed my glee.

Will it be a boy or a girl? The thoughts came with little effort. I secretly hoped for a little boy. Either way, I will love it with all of my heart. Will it have his hair or mine?

Eric was blessed with thick, lush curls of brown hair, while I had tight, wiry curls. I hated my hair. I couldn’t let Eric know I thought that, or he would argue about how beautiful they were. He never let me get out a negative word about myself.

My foot bounced as I glanced at the old-fashioned clock in the center of the City Square.

11:50, any minute.

Horns honked, cars obeyed the traffic lights, and people hurried along the streets, lost in their worlds. That’s how I preferred it. I didn’t want to make small talk today, to sign some petition, or to hear of someone’s woes for loose change. Today was about us—me, Eric, and our gestating grain of rice. 

I knew what to expect. My love was predictable. He’d come around the far corner where State Street met Washington Avenue with his hands in the pockets of his black peacoat. As always, I’d spot pale yellow hairs on his coat from the office dog. His gloves would be missing, and Eric would trip over that one spot where the sidewalk dipped up. 

11:51 

November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June, July.

My smile widened with excitement.

Summertime birthdays, the lucky duck. We could do pool parties, beach parties. Oh! We could go to the water park. Best time of the year.

I always envied the kids with summer birthdays. Having a winter birthday was boring. Do you want to stay inside or go sledding? They got old quickly. 

Our parents are going to flip.

Matt, my brother overseas, came to mind. He was going to be such a great uncle!

He’s always deployed, but when he comes home, oh, they will have a blast!

Our running joke about getting one another back for childhood slights made me chuckle. No, he didn’t have any kids yet.

The fact that I get to go first just means I’ll have more time to come up with my revenge.  

11:52 

I stood from the bench and turned towards the corner of State and Washington. Employees from the surrounding businesses—lawyers, bankers, and administrators flooded the streets with a sea of black jackets, suits, pencil skirts, and slacks, their heels clicking against the stone. 

Blondie.

I counted the bleach-blond secretary from two buildings down from Eric’s work; she was always first to arrive. 

Beardie.

The older gentleman tickling his sixties in a suit and his famously well-manicured beard was next. I hopped up onto my tippy toes as if somehow the centimeter or two of height would allow me to see that thick mop of styled curls more quickly. 

Lips.

The middle-aged woman with too much lipstick came around the corner. She was usually right behind him. 

Where is he? 

I stepped forward, only to be cut off by a man with a rolling briefcase. I didn’t even see him approach. He grumbled something, but I was too focused to gather his words. 

Hat.

The man who always wore that same baseball hat, regardless of the season or wind, popped up. 

What if something happened?

I approached the crosswalk between the intersection and the small park where my bench sat.

He could have dropped from a heart attack in his office or have been hit by a car. 

It was then, just as my thoughts started to spiral into a dark place, that the yellow lab poked its head around the corner. Eric emerged at the side of his boss, Alex Shepherd. Alex kept his obedient dog on a leash. Their afternoon stroll and bathroom break. His boss was a slender man with a kind smile, a blond goatee, and piercing blue eyes. They exchanged a laugh before Alex pointed in my direction and offered a small wave. 

There he was, the love of my life. With a hand on my stomach and a wide smile across my face, I returned the wave. Eric’s features fell quizzically. His lips parted; his eyebrows pulled together as he studied the placement of my hand. With a pointed finger and a raised eyebrow, his question was asked. 

Joyful laughter erupted from my lips, and tears finally spilled from the brim of my eyes. With arms open, Eric ran to me and pulled us into a tight, loving embrace. The smell of that woodsy shaving cream faintly lingered on his cheek. I knew I would remember this moment for the rest of my life.