Party of Four

One More Gift - Riley

As the sun set and the evening wound down, Jay and Mallory headed home. We stayed out a little longer, but eventually Nica started to yawn too.

“We have a gift for you too,” my dad told her as we were ready to go inside.

“You do?” Surprise filled her voice as she stood, wrapping a towel around herself. Her brows were pulled together in confusion.

My mom nodded, and clarified, “It’s from all of us. We wanted to wait until the baby shower next month, but that’s a long ways to try and keep you out of Poppy’s nursery.”

Her forehead creased as the confusion set in deeper. Nica gaze shifted between each of us. We led her inside and up to the room chosen for Poppy.

“Close your eyes,” I instructed, grinning as I rested my hand on the knob.

She obliged and Cole covered them from behind to ensure she couldn’t peek.

I opened the door, and she shuffled inside, Cole and our parents following behind her. I nodded and Cole moved his hands. “You can look now,” I told her.

Golden eyes opened and Nica gasped in surprise. Not only had the nursery been painted, my parents had worked together on a gorgeous mural of massive poppies and fairies fluttering around Poppy’s full name. The baby’s dresser doubled as a changing table, and was already put together alongside a matching dark cherry crib and a rocking chair. We still needed crib sheets, as well as a bunch of other baby stuff, but we were trying to wait until after the baby shower to see what was still needed. In the mean time though, my dad had crafted a massive papier-mache tree in the corner of the room and we’d strung fairy lights across the ceiling.

It was impossible to miss the fact that tears started to form in her eyes. “This is amazing,” she told us. She blinked a few times and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You guys…”

I rubbed her shoulder with one hand, grinning. “So you like it?”

“I love it,” she answered, turning to pull me into a hug. I ran a hand through her wet hair, and kissed her forehead. Then she hugged Cole, then my parents.

“We love you, Nica,” my dad told her. “And Poppy.”

My parents went to their house, and we showered off the chlorine and sunblock. Nica, of course, had her own bathroom. Cole and I usually took turns using our shared bathroom or one of us would go to the “guest” bathroom that would eventually be Poppy’s bathroom.

By the time I made it downstairs, Nica was already curled up on the couch. She wore a soft white nightgown that was covered in a cherry print and she had a matching robe over it.

Cole emerged from the dining room carrying a bowl of ice cream which he handed over to Nica. She thanked him and I watched as she began mixing the caramel and chocolate sauces into the dessert.

“Want a bite?” she asked as I sat down next to her.

I shook my head.

“There’s no hot sauce, I promise,” she teased.

“I’m good,” I smiled, kissing her cheek. “What are we watching?”

“I just started Castle Rock.”

Cole and I settled in on either side of her as the show began. “For mature audiences,” the voice over filtered through the speakers.

“Are y’all mature audiences?” she grinned around a spoonful of ice cream.

“I'd say we’re questionable at best,” Cole answered, a grin of his own forming as he nuzzled her neck.

“Questionable,” I echoed, considering it. “I think the phrase ‘aggressively juvenile’ applies to Cole. Especially when he’s trying to win at Mario Kart.”

“And Riley is ‘dramatically overwhelmed’ when he loses his vape or hasn’t had a joint in more than four hours,” Cole countered. “So it balances out to ‘questionable.’”

Nica snorted, her grin growing wider. Cole draped an arm around her, his fingers idly tracing the cherries on her robe. The deep, heavy dread of the horror show staring on the screen was neutralized by the sticky sweetness of this moment together. We weren’t mature audiences, we were just their audience.

The screen flashed and Cole shifted, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Nica’s head. I let my eyes drift closed for a moment, thinking about the space that Poppy would soon occupy. Our perfectly balanced, triangular arrangement would be changing soon. It was a change I was ready for though. For now though, this quiet vanilla moment was the perfect end to my first Father’s Day as an expectant father.