The Dream Is Not Over

Memory Lane

I roll over, looking at the clock on the nightstand. Every three hours, on the dot for the past eight months. It's jarring that after 20 years, we are doing this again, waking up at all hours to tend to a sleepy yet hungry baby. Lindsey sits up, turning on the bedside lamp and grumbling the offer to change her diaper while I 'prepare'- whatever that means. The milk is warm and ready, as always. I'm not sure what needs to be prepared but I nod anyway, smiling gratefully as I stand up, turning down the baby monitor so the sharp wail of our daughter is now but a low whisper through the speaker. Lindsey jogs into the next room and I turn the dial again, increasing the volume as I hear him talk to her in that sweet, high voice most people reserve for their cats and dogs.

"Hey there, buttercup!" he greets. I pull back my covers and unbutton my pajama top. Her whimpers turn to giggles as I hear raspberries being blown on her chubby belly. I listen to the familiar pop of the wipe container as it opens, being readied for the task at hand. I hear no fight, like the one she gives me when I try to change her now. She always wants to roll or try to crawl. He's talking again, the diaper crinkling in his hand. He's so good with her and it warms my heart. I can hear a smile in his voice as he continues to talk her through the process, lifting her legs, lowering them, and opening the tabs then adhering them to the front-middle of her diaper to make sure it stays on.

I turn the monitor low, almost off again when I decide to join them in the nursery. The moon is huge and bright outside her window and I open the drapes just a little so it can light up the room. I extend my arms and wait for Lindsey to place her into them, only for him to snatch her back and kiss all over her cheeks like crazy.

"She'll never go back to sleep now!" I complain halfheartedly.

"If not, I will keep her company. You can turn the baby monitor off and head right back to sleep. Don't worry about it."

"You don't need to be a zombie, either." I tell him, finally allowed to take Kaiya into my arms. She knows what's coming, reaching her grasping hands into my top and trying to come back out with whatever she deems to be hers. Lindsey laughs as he watches my face twist as she pinches the tender skin of my chest. "Maybe you should stay up with her then, if you're going to act like that. I wish she would do it to you so you'd understand how much it hurts."

"That's not very nice!" he says, lowering his eyebrows and giving me the saddest look he can muster.

"Then don't laugh."

"I'll zip it." And he did just that, pretending to zip his lips and throw away the key.

"If only the lock would hold. How blissful would the quiet be, Kaiya-bear?" I ask our daughter sweetly. She reaches into my top again, and I smile. Eyes on the prize. Maybe she does take after her father afterall despite the blonde hair and dark eyes. I unclip my unsightly nursing bra and Kaiya latches right away. We rock together in our favorite chair by the window and I stare out at the moon.

"You're both so beautiful together."

"She's beautiful, but I'm a mess," I tell him, though flattered.

"Not at all." He flashes a smile that would knock me off my feet if I weren't already sitting down. He walks toward us, kissing my forehead. "It's almost 5."

"Late," I comment, my eyes lowering to look at Kaiya who has now closed her eyes. The silence is comfortable, and Lindsey doesn't response for a moment.

"Most people would call that early." He responds, as if a spell has been broken. My eyes drift upward to look at him as he looks down at me, or past me to the baby in my arms. A spell indeed. "I can't believe we did this."

"We've done it before," I tell him jokingly.

"Yeah, but River was never as cute as Kaiya," he remarks and I huff, swatting at him. He chuckles, stepping just out of reach. "Hey!"

"River was a beautiful baby and you know it."

"Maybe I just don't remember. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday and others, it feels like a lifetime."

"I know. It does to me too."

"Time is a funny thing. I mean, I could say the same for Kaiya. I remember wondering what it would be like to have another baby, then seeing her face...now she's eight months old. She can say a couple words, she can sign for the things she wants, she crawls and tries to sit on her own..."

"It's wild." Kaiya drifts off in my arms, gently unlatching from my breast, her soft, pillowy lips puckered but still. We rock for a while longer, and Lindsey bends down to take her from me and place her back in her crib.

"Soon she'll be walking and I won't be able to hold her in my arms like this- she won't let me. It's like time is racing by and if I could, I would like to stop and live in some of these great moments for a little longer. Does that make sense?" I stand up from my chair and I nod. I understand completely. It makes perfect sense.

"And now we're grandparents. Saylor is only a little younger than Kaiya."

"I get to relive all these milestones through him and that's great, Steph, but..." He trails off, wrapping his arms around me. He pulls me into his body and I smell the remnants of his cologne and aftershave on his skin. His warmth radiates through me as I look into his brilliant blue eyes, full of moonlight.

"But what?" He kisses me, making my brain shut off for a moment. As soon as I come back to earth, he sees I'm still curious, my eyebrows knitting together.

"You're going to kill me," he says and then it hits me.

"No." I tell him immediately and he laughs.

"Oh come on, wouldn't it be fun?"

"It's only fun when we try, then there's the morning sickness, the aches and pains and then the birth, of course. No way. I'm too old."

"You're only forty!"

"Yes, just 'only'. Besides, you promised me you wouldn't say the 'f' word in this house." I button my blouse back up as I see his eyes drift downward and I walk out of the room.

"Stevie, Stephanie, angel." he pleads, following after me. He chases me into the bedroom and shuts the door behind us. His chest is heaving and so is mine, as my pace had picked up to beat him to the room. His heavy footsteps brought out the competitor in me, I guess. He smiles a winsome smile that usually gets him whatever he wants. He saunters toward me, his eyes growing a deeper blue, his smile turning into a wicked grin. He wraps his arms around me tight and peppers my neck with kisses. He knows my every weakness. "Say yes," he whispers.

"No," I protest weakly.

"Say yes," he repeats, his warm hands sliding beneath my pajama top. He lets his fingertips dance over my skin. "Don't make me beg, angel."

"You don't have to beg." I'm growing even weaker as he blows a stream of cool air over my hot skin.

"What do you say?" His hand slips down the back of my pajama bottoms and squeezes my backside hard. I emit a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

That's all he needs to know I've conceded and he laughs triumphantly, lowering me onto our bed.

"What's one more?"

A/N: thank you so much for everyone who has read, voted and commented on this story. I'm going to end this here for now as I feel it's gone on long enough. If anyone wants more, I'm more than happy to make a sequel or add a few chapters down the line. I can't believe it's over! Love you guys! Now I can focus energy on some of my other stories. 💜💜