There’s a newspaper tucked under his arm and two coffees in his hands. Despite the frenzied look about him and the urgency in his step, he’s smiling. “Lily,” he says, walking toward me. He shoves one of the coffees in my hand and then pulls the newspaper out from under his arm. “Three things. One . . . did you see the paper?” He hands it to me. The paper is folded inside-out. He points at the article. “You got it, Lily. You got it!”

I try not to get my hopes up as I look down at the article. He could be talking about something totally different from what I’m thinking. Once I read the headline, I realize he’s talking about exactly what I was thinking. “I got it?”

I’d been notified that my business was nominated for an award for Best of Boston. It’s a people’s choice awards the newspaper holds annually, and Lily Bloom’s was nominated under the “Best new businesses in Boston” category. The criteria are for businesses that have been open less than two years. I had a suspicion I might have been chosen when a reporter for the paper called me last week and asked me a series of questions.

The title reads “Best new businesses in Boston. Votes are in for your top ten!”

I smile and almost spill my coffee when Ryle pulls me in, picks me up, and spins me around.

He said he had three pieces of news, and if he started with that one, I have no idea what the other two could be. “What’s the second thing?”

He sets me back down on my feet and says, “I started with the best one. I was too excited.” He takes a sip of his coffee and then says, “I got selected for the training at Cambridge.”

My face is taken over by a huge smile. “You did?” He nods and then he hugs me and spins me around again. “I’m so proud of you,” I say, kissing him. “We’re both so successful, it’s sickening.”

He laughs.

“Number three?” I ask him.

He pulls back. “Oh, yeah. Number three.” He casually leans against the counter and takes a slow sip of his coffee. He gently places his coffee back on the counter. “Allysa is in labor.”

“What?!” I yell.

“Yeah.” He nods toward our coffees. “That’s why I brought you caffeine. We aren’t getting any sleep tonight.”

I start clapping, jumping up and down, and then panicking as I try to find my purse, my jacket, my keys, my phone, the light switch. Right before we make it to the door, Ryle rushes back to the counter and grabs the newspaper and tucks it under his arm. My hands are shaking with excitement as I lock the door.

“We’re gonna be aunts!” I say as I run to my car.

Ryle laughs at my joke and says, “Uncles, Lily. We’re gonna be uncles.”

• • •

Marshall calmly steps out into the hallway. Ryle and I both perk up and wait for the news. It’s been quiet in there for the past half an hour. We’ve been waiting to hear Allysa scream in agony—a sign she delivered—but there were no sounds at all. Not even the cries of a newborn. My hands go up to my mouth and seeing the look on Marshall’s face has me fearing the worst.