Ace of Hearts

63| the Godfather

"And then you secure the rubber band like this..."

I bite my tongue in concentration, my fingers follow along with the instructions that I verbalize to Ace.

"And ta-da!"

Perfect!

I release my creation, standing back from the kitchen counter to admire what I've competed so far.

"The diaper cake is done!" I announce for no reason. Nearby, Ace tilts his head to observe. He holds a rubber-ducky in hand.

"It looks vaguely like a cake." He speaks up.

Vaguely?!

Use your imagination! It's not done yet!

"I still have to decorate it with the pins and ribbons and that." I point to the rubber ducky in his hand. It's going to be the cake topper. This is supposed to be a nice surprise for my sister and her husband.

Also on the counter are baskets of supplies for Anson and Indie. And there's a sign that reads: welcome home Atlas!

It hangs over the kitchen entranceway to welcome the baby home.

I glance up at the paper sign.

Looking good, still.

Ace and I plan to have the place looking great for Anson and Indie. They're spending their first night at home tonight with Atlas. We want them to have a surprise and a happy home for them to come back to.

I think about seeing my nephew again. While I wrap the decorative ribbon around the diapers making up the tier of "cake", I think about my excitement to hold him and to smell that new baby smell.

Ace suddenly plops the rubber ducky on top of the cake with a groan. "You clearly don't need my help."

"You're not very artistic, are you?" I shoot him a playful look. He shrugs, sauntering over to the tv and turning on a game.

"You know— you won't be able to do that when Atlas comes to live here." I call from the kitchen.

"Do what?"

"Watch tv as loudly as you please!"

He shouldn't even do that now, if I'm being frank!

I know he frowns, even though he doesn't face me. "Bryn, how much do babies sleep?"

His ignorance is cute. I find myself laughing instead of answering his questions. I snort, finishing the faux cake decorating.

"How much do they cry?" He adds. "And poop?"

"Having second thoughts?" I ask, walking from the kitchen across the floor to him, and sinking down into his lap.

He welcomes me with open posture. His hands rub against my back, along my spine.

"About living here with an infant?" I clarify.

He flashes me a grin. "I'll just consider it training for the future."

Future?!

"Oh? Who's future babies are we talking about?" I tilt his chin so that his eyes meet mine, smiling.

"Not for a long, long time." He groans, just to clarify, "I think I amend what I told you in the library that day."

What day? It takes a moment for me to register what he means.