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Chapter 24 - Building the Nursery

The sound of hammering echoed through the house, followed by the occasional curse from my dad as he tried to put the crib together. I stood in the doorway of my room, watching him struggle with one of the crib's legs, a smile tugging at my lips. He was determined to do it himself, even though I had suggested hiring someone or asking for help.

"Nope," he had said firmly. "I'm putting this together for my granddaughter. I can handle it."

Now, as he bent down to read the assembly instructions, looking more confused by the second, I couldn't help but laugh.

"You sure you don't want me to call Ethan?" I asked, teasing.

He grumbled something under his breath, then stood up, wiping his brow. "No, no. I've got this. Just give me another minute."

My mom walked by with a fresh coat of paint on her hands and a roller in the other. "How's it going in here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the half-assembled crib.

I shrugged. "He's making progress. Slowly."

Dad shot me a look, but I could see the faint smile on his face. "You'll see. It'll be ready by the time Rebecca gets here. I promise."

I had to admit, despite the chaos, there was something comforting about watching my parents come together like this. They had been incredibly supportive since I told them about the pregnancy, and now they were going all out to make sure Rebecca had everything she needed, including a perfect little nursery.

The walls were already painted a soft, calming lavender—my mom's idea. I hadn't been sure about it at first, but as the color dried and settled into the room, I started to love it. It was peaceful, soothing. The kind of place I wanted Rebecca to feel safe in.

I moved around the room, organizing some of the new baby clothes we'd bought last week. Tiny onesies, soft blankets, and plush toys. I ran my fingers over a little pink dress, imagining Rebecca wearing it. The thought filled me with warmth, but also a tinge of nervousness. In just a few months, she would be here. My daughter.

"Hey, don't start stressing," my mom said gently, noticing the look on my face. "You're doing great. And we've got time to get everything ready."

I nodded, forcing a smile. "I know. It's just... overwhelming sometimes, you know?"

She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Believe me, I know. But you're not doing this alone, Mia. We're here for you every step of the way. You and Rebecca are going to be just fine."

Her reassurance eased some of the tension in my chest. I glanced around the room again, taking in the sight of it slowly coming together. The crib was almost finished, the dresser was stocked with baby essentials, and the rocking chair in the corner was just waiting for late-night feedings.

As if on cue, Dad finally managed to get the last screw in place, stepping back proudly to admire his work. "See? Told you I could do it."

I walked over and inspected the crib, giving it a little shake to make sure it was sturdy. "Not bad, Dad. Not bad at all."

He laughed and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Your old man's still got it."

We spent the rest of the afternoon setting everything up. My parents helped me arrange the stuffed animals, fold the baby clothes, and place the mobile above the crib. The room slowly transformed from a blank slate into a cozy, welcoming space, filled with love and anticipation for Rebecca's arrival.

By the time we finished, the nursery looked perfect. The crib was neatly tucked against the far wall, next to the dresser, which held neatly folded clothes, diapers, and all the other essentials. The rocking chair sat by the window, ready for countless hours of rocking Rebecca to sleep. The lavender walls seemed to glow in the soft afternoon light, casting a warm, peaceful aura over the room.

I stood in the doorway, staring at it all, feeling a strange mix of pride and disbelief. This was real. This was happening. My life was about to change in ways I couldn't even fully understand yet, but standing here, looking at Rebecca's room, it finally felt like something I was ready for.

"This is perfect," I said softly, more to myself than anyone else.

My mom came up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's all coming together, Mia. You're going to be a wonderful mom."

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and I quickly blinked them away, not wanting to get too emotional in front of my dad, who was busy trying to hang up a framed picture of little baby animals on the wall.

"I just want her to feel safe, you know? Like this is her home," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"She will," my mom said gently. "Because you'll make it her home. You already have."

We stood there for a few more minutes, just taking it all in. The nursery wasn't just a room—it was a symbol of the life I was building, the future I was preparing for. It was the place where Rebecca would sleep, play, and grow, and where I would learn how to be a mom.

As the sun started to set, casting a soft golden glow across the room, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I didn't know what challenges lay ahead, but for now, in this moment, everything felt right.

This was Rebecca's room. Our room. And it was filled with love.