“What are you doing?“ she asked, dismayed her favourite winter coat didn’t cover her completely.
But how could it? She’d bought it years before her belly was proudly protruding.
Putting a hand on it, she smiled. She hadn’t thought she’d have another child after Will had died, was thankful this chance had been given to her, to them.
“I’m building a snowman,” Charles said.
“In front of our bedroom?”
He turned to her for all but a second.
“Yeah. I want the little one to be able to see it. It’s her first.”
She laughed out loudly, quickly putting her hand in front of her mouth. He was impossible. Since her pregnancy had begun to show he’d been talking to their daughter, had done things for her she’d never remember. He was enjoying this time, and although people said pregnant women where glowing with happiness, it seemed to be possible for future fathers, too.
“Charles, she’ll never know.”
The grin he threw her was boyish. Having formed the last globe made of snow, he put it onto the other two, picking up a hat that was lying on the ground.
“Now only the face is missing. But little one will know.”
He straightened, brushed some strands of hair from his face. It was still snowing lightly, and his hair was damp.
“I’ll make a sketch for her.”
He did it a lot, making sketches of things he thought his daughter should know when she grew up.
She took a deep breath before her feelings could overwhelm her. Stepping closer, as close as her belly allowed, she cupped his chin, got on her toes so she could kiss him softly.
“You’ll spoil our daughter.”
“Never enough. But you know what? Let’s call Mary so she can help me out here. After all, she’s my daughter, too.”