It happens at Mas Amigos.
He stares at me over his Corona Light. There’s a lime wedged into the neck of the bottle. I dip my perfectly greasy tortilla chip into a bowl of perfectly fresh salsa. I pick the rock salt off the rim of my margarita.
He says he’s thought about it all day. He thinks we should adopt. Right now. We should meet with an attorney this week. He says he loves me so much and he wants me to be a mama. He wants to be a dad.
He’s excited. I’m relieved.
I start to cry. Tears flowing down my cheeks in the middle of our favorite–crowded–Mexican restaurant.
I know it won’t be long now.
. . .
I get the call sitting in the first stall of the ladies’ room. I recognize the number and just have to answer. Mid-stream–I hold my bladder high and tight.
Thank goodness I’ve been doing my kegel exercises.
Our attorney says she has a potential birth mother. A sweet young girl. She’s pregnant — due late this summer. She wants to know if we would be interested.
I call him. My voice is shaking. I tell him everything I know. And he’s quiet. After a few short moments he responds — let’s go for it.
. . .
He’s stirring early on a Sunday morning. Tossing and turning at 5 a.m. He tells me he can’t sleep. He’s just going to make some coffee and go upstairs to his office — he’ll get a little work done.
I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t. I get up—tiptoeing up the stairs. I find him Googling books about fatherhood. He sees me in the doorway. And his cheeks turn a little red. He smiles.
Buddy — he says — it just hit me this morning. We’re going to have a baby. I need to learn how to be a dad.
I walk to his chair and wrap my arms around him — kissing him on the cheek.
Later that day we go out and buy 12 books for new fathers.
He’s been reading them before bed every night this week. Stopping often to tell me a fun-fact about belly-buttons, bottles, burping–and poop.
He’s excited. And he’s scared.
I think he’s just your typical dad-to-be. And our baby will be so lucky.
. . .
It’s Friday, and I’m in love. So in love with him and our life — and the notion that he might be a father before summer cools to fall.
Something’s happening. Something good — and private. Please keep us in your thoughts — and keep enjoying this sweet summer of love.