Blueprints for Her
336 Words
Chapter XIII: Blueprints for Her
It came quietly—on a Tuesday morning in spring.
Beatrice stood frozen in the bathroom, barefoot on cold tiles, one hand clutched over her mouth as she stared at the two faint pink lines.
She blinked. Looked again.
And began to cry—loud, shaking sobs that came from a place deep inside her, where grief and hope had long been wrestling. But this time, hope had won.
Blake was halfway through his second cup of coffee when she came out, pale and trembling, the test gripped in her hand.
He stood. “Bee? What is it?”
Wordlessly, she held it up.
He stepped forward, eyes locking on the result. His breath caught. “Is this…?”
She nodded, laughing through tears. “Yes. Blake, I’m pregnant.”
He took her face in both hands and kissed her forehead. “You did it. We did it.”
For weeks afterward, everything felt like a dream. The boys were thrilled at the idea of a baby—though Caleb insisted her name be “Optimus Princess,” and Liam suggested “Dirtbike.”
They painted a nursery together—lavender walls with little golden stars, soft wooden shelves shaped like clouds. Blake assembled the crib with a quiet reverence, checking every bolt twice.
One night, as he set the final screw, he looked up at Beatrice sitting nearby, one hand over her round belly.
“I never told you this,” he said, “but I used to be afraid of having a daughter.”
She smiled. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t think I could be gentle enough. I thought I’d screw it up. But with you… with our boys… I don’t know. You’ve made me softer.”
Beatrice reached for his hand. “You’ll be the kind of man she’ll measure all others against. And that terrifies me for them.”
They both laughed, and a soft kick tapped against her belly, as if their daughter agreed.
- Writer
