Danica
Six months later

I'm only weeks away from delivery and our home is almost finished. Lane is working hard to make sure our home is finished before the baby comes.

We designed it together, and it's everything I ever dreamed of since I was little. It's a two-story cape cod, with wood siding and a stone wrap around porch. He made sure to build the most modern kitchen for me with all the convenience a cook would enjoy, a dining room, because I really want to entertain guests, a large living room, four bedrooms, and a finished basement for Hank. His area is like an apartment, with two bedrooms, his own kitchen, and two bathrooms. He put a driveway that leads around back so he can have guests. There are four bedrooms upstairs and one is already a nursery. It's absolutely gorgeous, and they're just putting in the last touches.

There's also a storm shelter, which is almost unheard of in these parts, which amazes me. There's always tornado warnings, so you'd think everyone would have one, but Lane said the ground here is really hard and that makes it expensive.

I was just finishing Hank's medication, when he walked in and opened the refrigerator door. When we arrived, he was frail, but now he put on some healthy weight and gets around really good without his walker.

He drove himself into town this morning to meet up with his old buddies at the small run-down diner in town. Yesterday, he spent most of his day outside with Lane working on some old tractor. He is still sick, but the doctors said his heart disease is stable. The damage can never be fixed, but they're hopeful it won't progress.

"Do you need any help packing?" I asked. I'm sitting at the kitchen table looking at the sketch of our new house.

"I believe you're supposed to stay off your feet." He said.

"What are you looking for in the fridge?" I asked.

"Hell if I know. It's stocked full with all your cooking and I can't decide." He said.

"I baked cookies," I said with a smile on my face.

He quickly shut the refrigerator door. "Where?" He asked.

I laughed. "Excited much?"

"You need to open a diner and bakery." He said, and whenever he says that, the idea does dance around in my head.

I have dinner almost ready, and Lane should be back inside soon.

"Don't the two of you have cards to play tonight?" He asked.

"You're just trying to get rid of us so you can raid the cookie jar," I said.

"Me? Never! I would never do such a thing." He said with a bullshit smile on his face.

"It's all going to go to your hips," I warned him.

Actually, everything I make in this house is heart-healthy and we barely use the salt shaker. I actually hid it from Hank.

I looked back down at the sketch of our home. "Lane will be in soon," I said, but didn't get an answer, so I looked up and Hanks standing there obviously hiding the mouthful of cookies in his mouth.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he stood there chewing with an innocent look on his face. He must have found my hiding spot.

He shrugged, and just looked at me like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, literally.

I laughed. "You Morgan men, I swear." I got up to check on dinner.

He mumbled something.

"You won't have any tonight if you eat them all now," I warned, and heard someone laugh. Lane is standing in the doorway.

"Dad's breaking you in for motherhood." He said as he walked toward me and kissed my cheek. "How are you feeling today?" He asked.

"Swollen, fat, ugly, and hungry," I said.

He laughed. "You're stunning, and I can't wait to show you off tonight. Are you still feeling good enough to go out?" He asked.

"Absolutely, we were invited months ago and finally got you to budge. I'm really excited." I said.

"Good, do I have time for a shower?" He asked.

I scrunched my nose. "I'll make time," I said, and he tapped my nose.

"You can always join me." He offered.

I whispered loud enough for Hank to hear. "You shouldn't talk like that in front of the elderly, they have sensitive ears," I said.

"I heard that, and it's true." Hank chuckled as he put another cookie in his mouth.

"Give me that, you're spoiling your dinner." I took the tin can away, and he frowned.

"The mean lady took my cookies." He said to Lane, and we both laughed.

"That mean lady is just watching out for you." Lane said, then kissed my cheek. "I'll be right back." He said before he walked out of the room.

"That boy's going to have you pregnant again in no time." Hank chuckled.

"I like being pregnant," I said.

He snorted. "In a few weeks, you won't be talking that way."

It wasn't long, and we were finishing dinner. Hank and Lane told me to rest while they cleaned up the kitchen. Instead, I went upstairs to get ready.

We're experiencing an early spring, so I slipped on a maxi dress and cardigan sweater, then straightened my hair. Lane always likes my hair down this way, so I put in a little extra effort.

We've avoided these card nights because of Megan, but we decided to see how it goes. It's been six months, and we've been lucky to avoid her since our party. Surely she is getting better, and maybe we can have some kind of social life.