“I’m not trying to scare you, sweetheart! I’m sure you’ll be fine!” She patted my hand.

  Sure! I’ll be just fine! Exactly what to mother of a giant monster baby would say!

  Dex shuffled into the house, pulling a suitcase. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that. The fact that he wore Logan’s championship belt around his waist raised my eyebrows. Logan followed behind him, carrying my bags while shaking his head. Sandy rolled her eyes at her husband and son. Clearly, their shenanigans were par for the course.

  “…So,” Sandy exhaled and dropped her voice. “Elle, I know that things were a little rocky when Logan told us you two were having a baby. We were a bit shell-shocked. He wasn’t seeing anyone, then suddenly he’s got a girlfriend and a kid on the way. But none of that excuses our chilly reception. I know it doesn’t make it better, but I’m sorry. I’m happy we finally get to spend some time with you.”

  “Thank you, Sandy. I’m happy we finally get to spend some time together, too.”

  “I made you something. It’s not much, but I hope you and baby girl can get some use out of it.” Sandy reached under the table and pulled out a small, plain box.

  She held the box towards me with a nervous smile. I opened the lid, and the cutest knitted lilac baby blanket greeted me. I picked it up and ran my fingers over the soft cable knitting. The blanket was big enough to cover my shoulders like a cape. A soft delicate cape for Mom and baby. I hugged the blanket to my chest and tears streamed down my face.

  “Thank you so much Sandy!” I blubbered, too emotional to feel embarrassed.

  “Of course, sweetie!” Sandy hopped out of her chair and pulled me into a hug.

  Sandy didn’t have a problem with holding me while I cried. Once my blubbering finally stopped, she shoved a box of tissues at me and I wiped my face.

  “Mom! I didn’t expect you to make my girlfriend cry!” Logan mockingly exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen.

  “She was always scaring off my girlfriends. That’s why I started bringing boyfriends home.” Logan said with a comically straight face.

  Sandy rolled her eyes as Logan sat down beside me.

  “Everything okay?” He whispered.

  I nodded and leaned against his shoulder. Logan pressed a kiss to my forehead. Everything was more than ok. Eventually, Dex joined us at the table for late lunch/early dinner. He was still wearing Logan’s championship belt. We munched on roasted chicken, potatoes, and salad. Sandy took the floor to regale me with stories of Logan’s adorable childish exploits. From everything she said, he sounded like a handful. At age 7, he brought snow inside to build a snowman in his bed because he didn’t want winter to end. At age 5, he thought his goldfish would enjoy swimming in chocolate milk because it was yummy. The fish sadly died. When he was 4, Logan’s aunt had a baby, and everyone went to meet them. Logan burst into tears at the sight of the baby and ran out of the house screaming about how he wanted a dog. Giggling, I glanced over at Logan, whose cheeks simmered with redness. He rolled his eyes and stuffed another bite of chicken into his mouth. Dex ate quietly, not contributing much to the conversation.

  “Thank you for dinner. Or lunch. Whichever.” Logan shrugged as he collected the dirty plates from the table.

  I glanced at my phone. It was only 5:30. Kinda early for such a hearty meal. I rubbed my stomach and shifted in my seat.

  “You know us, Logie. The sun goes down and your dad and I turn into pumpkins.” Sandy laughed.

  “She’s serious. It’s like Cinderella magic or some shit!” Dex snorted.

  I giggled, mostly in shocked surprise that Dex joined in on the conversation. A loud crash caught everyone’s attention. Everyone’s heads whipped around to the kitchen, where Logan stood over a pile of broken dishes.

  “What happened? Are you okay?” I asked.

  “What happened was that no matter how many belts Logan wins he will always be the world heavyweight dumbass.” Dex loudly spoke up for the first time all day.

  Logan sighed, “It was a mistake.”

  Sandy narrowed her eyes at her husband instantly witling him like a flower.

  “I’ll get a broom sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. Take Elle in the living room and find something for us to watch. No wrestling!” Sandy said as she stood up.

  I laughed. Logan’s mom was a sweet woman with thorns. I liked her very much. Logan held out a hand to me and led me to the living room.

  “Don’t sit in the recliner.” Logan noted as we walked into the room

  “Why?” I asked as I looked at the green corduroy recliner in the corner.

  “Dad’s spot,” Logan rolled his eyes.

  I nodded and glanced at the wall behind Dex’s recliner. The wall was covered in a collage of photos in chipped gold frames. The pictures had yellowed and curled at the edges. They were hung and left untouched so long ago. Dex and Sandy in front of a tiered cake on their wedding day. Baby Logan in a pair of red footie pajamas grinning at the Christmas tree. Logan grinning over a box of kittens. A much younger Sandy and a toddler Logan building a sandcastle on the beach.

  One photo made me pause. This photo was old but not as old as all the others. In a striped polo shirt, with his trademark curls neatly trimmed, Logan looked to be in his mid-20s. The younger Logan stood with his arm around the shoulders of a tall Japanese man. It looked like a snapshot from a street fair. Logan’s pink cheeks were bunched up to his ears as his preserved smile radiated happiness. Where Logan beamed with joy, his ex, Yuki looked cool. He stood close, but not too close. His tame smirk toed the line between annoyed and amused. He looked there and completely somewhere else all at the same time.

  I couldn’t help the idle thought that crept into my head,

  Is Logan that happy with me?

  It wasn’t the time or the place for intrusive overthinking. I pushed that thought back to where it came and I slumped onto the plush, ugly as sin pink couch beside Logan. He draped an arm over the back of the couch as I settled against his side. A metal media center sat against the wall. It held a gray boxy TV that had to be at least 25 years old. Thankfully, a flat screen around the same size hung directly above it.

  Why not just get rid of the old TV?

  I kept that question to myself. The entire living room had a rarely touched feeling. A room in a house left forgotten. Before I could ask Logan about it, Dex came into the room and slumped into his recliner. The springs creaked as the footrest sprung out. Sandy came into the room exclaiming about some movie I just had to watch.

  “She’s happy to have a girl around.” Logan whispered in my ear.

  Now that we had smoothed things out, I didn’t mind being on Sandy’s team. She turned on some 90’s movie I’d never heard of before settling next to me. Sandy and Dex weren’t kidding when they mentioned turning into pumpkins when the sun when down. Logan tapped my shoulder and pointed at his parents. Eyes closed, Dex’s mouth had fallen open. Sandy had propped her arm up on the arm of the couch. She rested her head on her hand, but her eyes were closed. The movie watched them. Logan leaned over me and gently shook his mom’s shoulder. Her head sprung up like the house was on fire and we both laughed.

  “Go to bed, Mom.” Logan deadpanned.

  Surprisingly Sandy got up without a fight. She kissed Logan on the cheek before slapping Dex’s chest. He grunted himself awake. Blinking a few times, Dex looked around the room to orient himself. The moment his sleepy confusion faded, he climbed out of his recliner.

  “Night.” He mumbled.

  Still wearing Logan’s championship, Dex shuffled out of the living room and down the hall. Mouth hanging open, I pointed after him and Logan shrugged.

  “That’s his all weekend.” He explained.

  “Let us know if you need anything!” Sandy smiled, her lids heavy.

  “Like I totally didn’t grow up here! Go to bed, Mom!” Logan shooed.

  Sandy gave my shoulder a squeeze before following her husband down the hall. Logan shook his head before climbing onto the far end of the couch. He kicked his feet up and opened his legs wide. With a teasing smirk on his lips, he motioned for me. My heavily pregnant self, I shimmied/crawled/pushed myself to him. I settled on my side with my head against his chest. Logan’s hand rested across my hip.

  “You good?” he asked.

  I nodded, and he pressed play on the movie. The casual beat of Logan’s heart was more interesting to me than Julia Roberts finding love. His limbs cocooned around me was exactly what I needed. For the first time all day, my muscles relaxed as I settled against the man I loved and watched scenes of white people relationship hijinks. My brow furrowed as I watched the Juila Roberts’ character run down the beach with the groom’s brother. Their lives were a mess, but that didn’t matter because they had each other. The narrative of these movies never explained how they smoothed out life’s wrinkles after the couple finally got together. Logan and I hadn’t even talked about life after the baby. If this was a movie, just 2 hours later and it would tie together everything with a bow.

  Why can’t real life work out that way?

  Logan groaned and stretched his arms overhead as the end credits rolled. I sat up and glanced out the window. It was finally dark.

  “Shall I show you my room?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows.

  “If you want,” I giggled, leaving my relationship angst on the beach with Julia Roberts.

  Logan led the way out of the living room. He pointed out the bathroom before pausing at a closed door.

  He grinned, “Welcome to casa Logan Smith!” He opened the door, and I stepped inside.

  Besides the neat blow-up mattress on the floor, the room was looked untouched by time. Select rooms in the Smith family home seemed untouched and I couldn’t figure out why. I stepped into the room and ran my hand along the wooden footboard of the twin sized bed. The walls were decorated with wrestling posters, video game ads, and magazine clippings. Two large bookshelves took up the far wall. The shelves were filled with CDs, VHS tapes, comics, and action figures. In-between the bookshelves sat a coffee table that was used as a makeshift media stand. A boxy, technically vintage at this point TV sat beside a VHS player, more VHS tapes, and a Super Nintendo. Logan stepped around the air mattress and flicked on the floor lamp. It filled the room with a soft, golden glow.

  “What ya think?” he asked.

  “It’s cute. You must have moved out as soon as you graduated, huh?”

  “Yeah. I had a world to see and wrestling to do.” He shrugged.

  “Did you bring lots of dates back here? Lots of hot and heavy make out sessions under your wrestling and anime posters.” I smirked.

  “Totally. Every boy and girl at my high school was falling over themselves to get in these pants.” Logan snorted and flopped down on the air mattress.

  I sat down beside him and nudged his shoulder. “So what games you got for that Super Nintendo? Anything good?”

  “For your information, my gaming collection is outstanding! You name it, I might have it. Battletoads, Killer Instinct, Donkey Kong Country, Super Mario World, Legend of Zelda. The Sega and PlayStation are in the closet if those are more your speed. Pick your poison, sweetheart.”

  “Do you have Mario Kart?”

  Logan smiled and reached under the bed. He retrieved a massive box filled to the brim with game cartridges. Each game was labeled and stored in individual dust covers. It was impressive. Logan ran a finger along the edge of the box until he found what he needed. He pulled Super Mario Kart from the box and carefully removed the dust cover.

  “Should you blow into it?” I asked.

  Logan paused and narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re not supposed to actually blow into game cartridges. That can damage them.”

  “Why does everyone do it, then?”

  “People are idiots.” He mumbled before placing the game into the Nintendo and turning it on.

  Logan handed me a controller. Little did he know I had clocked countless hours on the SNES growing up. Everything came flowing back effortlessly as the game started. I couldn’t help but wonder how I spent so much time playing these games as a kid. Staring at the blocky graphics on the tiny screen was a game on its own. But none of that mattered because I was in my element. Hunched forward, my shoulders bobbed and weaved as I steered my kart around obstacles.

  My boyfriend took one hell of an asskicking. I came in 1st, and he landed squarely in the middle of the pack placing 5th. I couldn’t help my smirk as the victory theme placed. Slowly, Logan turned his head to glare at me. My grin grew wider, and I rubbed a hand over my belly.

  “Don’t use baby girl as a distraction!” he huffed.

  “I would never think of our child as a distraction! I’m just really good at video games. Better than you ever thought!” I stuck my tongue out at him.

  He mumbled something, but I couldn’t make it out. Beating my expert boyfriend, who had built part of his life around video games, made me feel stupidly happy. I knew if it was any other game, he would have trounced me. But if I knew one thing, I knew Mario Kart.

  “You proud of yourself?” He asked.

  I shrugged, “A little.”

  Logan laughed. “You always surprise me, Elle. Always.”

  I grabbed his shoulder. “I know you lost, like, really bad. But if it’s any consolation, I totally would have made out with you in high school.”

  Logan

  Elle huffed and shifted her shoulders. My old bedroom was dark except for the glow from my old 12-inch TV. We changed into our pajamas and managed to squeeze into my childhood bed for quick cuddles before falling asleep. But that was extended when we got caught up watching an old 90’s GJWP tape. I still had the damn thing memorized from repeat viewings as a kid.

  “You alright?” I asked.

  Elle flopped over with great difficulty to face me. After she caught her breath, she said, “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “What?”

  “…You’ve been on edge since we pulled into the driveway. Are you okay?”

  That obvious?

  “Yeah, I think so. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Elle narrowed her eyes at me.

  I sighed, “Okay is totally subjective. My family is kinda weird and I’m just worried about you having a good time.”

  “I’m having a good time. I won’t lie. I was worried. But your mom is very sweet and seems happy to have some girls around. Your Dad on the other hand…” she trailed off.

  “Yeah… He’s kinda prickly at first. But trust me, there’s a human under all that grump.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Dad’s just quiet. When I was growing up, he used to say I spoke enough for the both of us.”

  Elle giggled, and it was my turn to narrow my eyes at her.

  “Dad is a dude who’d rather be focused on work. It’s always been like that with him. Like his brain can only concentrate on one task at a time or it will malfunction.”

  “He was a plumber, right? I guess that level of focus would come in handy for a hands-on job like that.”

  “Yep. He really only went to college to play hockey-”

  “We’re barely over the border! How stereotypically Canadian!” Elle exclaimed.

  “I mean, every sport can’t be flashy and exciting like wrestling.” I smirked. “Anyway, he wanted to go pro, but life stuff got in the way.”

  Life stuff being me.

  I blinked at the thought. Dad and I were cool. Our relationship was good. I never thought it would be. But moving away and finding myself proved to be the best thing for us. But even now, there was always the unspoken fog of my unexpected arrival surrounding our relationship.

  “He picked up a trade after my folks got married. Mom went back to finish her degree and then on to get her masters. Dad watched me in between classes, field training, and stuff. And once he got a job, that’s where his attention went.”

  “You tagged along with your parents to work a lot, didn’t you?”

  “Sometimes. I have to admit, hanging out at the library was much more fun for little Logan than holding tools for Dad while he fixed sinks at weird people’s houses.”

  Elle reached out and cupped my cheek. Her thumb caressed along my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It got better once I went to school. When I stopped being an albatross around his neck, Dad and I connected over sports. He’s the one that got me into wrestling.”

  Twice a month, Dad would take me around the corner to Vance’s Video Rental and we would rent whatever wrestling tapes they had. While Mom studied at the kitchen table, Dad and I would talk about wrestling for hours. He sat in his recliner, and I’d stretch out on the carpet with wide eyes, absorbing it all. The moves, the spectacle. My appreciation for it came from him. It was obvious, but I’d never connected the threads before now. Becoming a wrestler had a bit to do with chasing Dad’s approval.

  “He probably never thought you’d like it as much as you do.” Elle giggled.

  I blinked, “Well, you know me, I’m an all-or-nothing sort of guy!” I kissed Elle’s forehead.

  “We’re totally gonna be the type of parents to press our interests onto baby girl, aren’t we?” she rubbed her stomach.

  I placed a hand on her stomach. “I hope so. Why else would we go through all of this?! Baby girl wants to learn to crawl, potty train, and eat cereal instead of brushing up on the history of tape trading in wrestling fandom and the effect it had on international markets pre internet?! I think not! I am many things, but the father of a clueless toddler who doesn’t know her global wrestling I won’t be!”

  Elle rolled her eyes before gazing at me. Her wide brown eyes had such mystery behind them. I could get lost in them.

  “You’re funny, but I’m serious, though. You’d tell me if you weren’t, okay?” Her voice was soft with worry.

  “Yes, I’d tell you if I wasn’t ok. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I have to. It’s my job as your girlfriend.” She winked.

  “Your job, huh?”

  She nodded. “I take my job very seriously.”