When we get down to the patio, a table that wasn’t there just a few minutes ago is set up with a cake on top of it that is larger than the one we had at our wedding. Then again, we got married at the courthouse, and the cake we ate the night we got married was one we picked up at the grocery store. We ate it in our kitchen, her sitting on the counter and me standing next to her with Chance asleep in his rocker a few feet away. No one except my brothers, her family, and her best friends knew that we got married until weeks later. Even then, no one was at the courthouse with us except Clay and Willow, and that is only because we needed witnesses. She wanted our wedding to just be about us. She didn’t want it to be a show, and I just wanted her tied to me. Her parents were disappointed, but they got over it quickly.

As people start to gather around the table, Chance comes over to us, and I pick him up, keeping hold of him as he leans over to hug his mom.

“I love you, baby. Are you having the best time?” She asks him softly smoothing her hand over his hair that is damp with sweat.

“Yes, and Grandma said I get to ride a horse later.”

“Wow, that’s so fun.” She looks at me with wide eyes, and I shake my head before focusing on Betsy. When she begins lighting the candles on Chance’s cake, everyone starts to sing.

Burrowing his face in my neck, he hides as everyone sings him happy birthday. He’s never been crazy about having a lot of attention focused on him. He’s like his mom in that way.

“You need to blow out your candles, baby,” Franny tells him, kissing the side of his head, he pulls his face from my neck as I walk him over to his cake, and he leans over to blow out his candles. When he’s done people start to clap, and I hug him tight.

“Do you want some cake?” Betsy asks, and he nods, so I put him on his feet. As he walks over to stand with his grandparents, I look down at Franny when she takes my hand and squeezes it.

“You okay?”

“Nope, I need you to take me to the hospital. My water broke about twenty minutes ago.”

“What the fuck?”

“I didn’t want to make Chance’s moment about me,” she says as I look around in a panic.

“Everything okay?” Betsy asks, passing out cake, and I glare at my wife.

“I need to get your daughter to the hospital. She's in labor and has been for God knows how long.”

“Francisca,” she cries, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.