He smiles, an amused smirk. “You mean you don’t know?”

I frown. “It’s not our anniversary, I know that. I may have pregnancy brain, but I know our anniversary.”

“Not our wedding anniversary, no.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“Nope.”

I huff. “Are you really going to make me guess?”

He tugs on a lock of my hair. “One more guess, sweetheart. Then I’ll tell you.”

“It’s not the day we found out I was pregnant.” I hold up a finger to forestall him telling me—I have an inkling, and it’s forming into knowledge. “Oh! I know: the day we met.”

“Bingo.” He places the carving back into its nest of straw, and leads me out onto the porch of his workshop. The same rocking chair sits there still. “I was sitting here, reading. You pulled up in that car, and I saw you for the first time. It was three years ago, today.”

“We didn’t actually meet the first day I arrived though, you know.” I’m teasing him. “It was the next day.”

“Don’t split hairs with me, woman. Today is the three-year anniversary of the day I first brought you coffee. You were on your porch, and you were wrapped up in your favorite blanket.”

“And seriously jonesing for coffee,” I tease. “I fell in love with you for a lot of reasons, but I think that cup of coffee was the first step.”

“I know the date, because I’m thankful more and more every day for having met you. You’ve changed my life in so many ways that I can’t even begin to list them all. And I guess I just wanted to make you something to memorialize the day you first began saving my life.”

I laugh, but it’s a wet, choked sound. “Stop, Nathan. I already married you, you big sentimental goon. You don’t have to try and make me more in love than I already am.”

“But I’m going to. Or try, at least. Every day.”

I cling to him, nuzzle kisses just under his beard. “Have you thought about names?”

“Yeah. It’s a girl, and her name is Leanne Belle Fischer. B-E-L-L-E. Leanne for Lisa’s middle name, and Belle in honor of Adrian.”

“And if it’s a boy?”

“It’s not. But, if it is by some chance, Robert Thompson Fischer.”

Robert, for Adrian’s middle name, and Thompson, for Lisa’s maiden name.

“Perfect.” I look up at him. “You’re really certain it’s a girl?”

“I know it.” He smiles down at me. “She’ll have my hair and your eyes.” He traces a finger over my temple. “You like the names? I’ve been thinking on ’em for a while.”

“I love the names. They’re exactly perfect.” I try the girl name out loud. “Leanne Belle Fischer.”

“We can talk about it more if you’re not sure.”