“That afternoon.” My mom’s face is radiant. “Just a small thing here after you get back. Liz is going to tag along so the tech can give her the correct set of confetti poppers. Not even Liz will know until you fire them off.”

“How can you have a shower immediately following?” Lyle gnaws his lower lip.

“Oh, don’t worry…these ladies bought everything in both pink and blue, including ordering a girl-themed cake and a boy-themed cake,” Dane offers with a roll of his eyes. “They’re fully prepared for either outcome.”

“It’s true,” Grace admits, slightly embarrassed. “We have girl presents and boy presents, and we just kept receipts to return the stuff we end up not needing. We didn’t want to get you more unisex stuff.”

“I don’t even know what to say… thank you all so much.”

“You’re welcome.” Momma walks over and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I hate that we couldn’t be there for your last shower. We wanted to show you how excited we are and celebrate the arrival of baby bean with the both of you.”

“I can’t imagine a better gift,” Lyle gushes. “It’s perfect.”

We wrap up gift giving with the parents and siblings and bid the children a good night before heading out to the car, with Frank trailing a respectful distance behind.

“They’re prepared for either outcome,” my husband speaks into my temple, holding me close to keep me warm.

“Mmhmm,” I nod, breathing in his scent, eager to get home and ravish him.

“The question is, dear wife…is your booty-hole prepared for either outcome?”

“Why so tense, love?” my husband teases, while gently lathering my hair into a massive hive atop my head. The scent of lavender wafts into the air while traces of today’s news puddle around my toes before swirling down the drain. Blue powder and glitter and tiny slivers of foil confetti trickle along our nude bodies—his hard and sculpted, mine round and ever changing with the evidence of our son, growing in my womb.

The way my heart leaped when we fired off those poppers. A baby boy. Finally knowing makes everything so much more real. I can’t wait to get back to our house in Nashville and personalize his nursery and wardrobe.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I grip the wrist of the hand that’s yet again wandering entirely too close to forbidden territory. “Maybe because you keep poking and prodding at my asshole,” I squeak when he gives up and reaches around to pinch my extended nipple.

“Relax, Li’l Bit.” His breath is warm on my neck, despite us being in a steaming shower. “I would never do anything you weren’t a hundred percent onboard with, even if I did win.”

I snort at his now-constant reminders of his victory, sucking a lungful of soapy water.