The nursery smelled faintly of cedarwood and lavender. Soft afternoon light filtered through gauzy curtains, painting golden slants across the freshly painted walls—a pale sage, soothing and earthy, just like Ava wanted. The crib was half-assembled, an open box of baby clothes spilled across the rocking chair, and tiny socks the size of her thumbs lay like petals across the floor.
Ava stood in the middle of it all, one hand resting on her growing belly, the other clutching a tiny onesie that read "Little Sister, Big Adventure."
Behind her, Jamie leaned against the doorframe, watching her with that familiar look—the one that hadn't changed since the first time he saw her holding their son in the hospital, exhausted and radiant.
"You're nesting," he said with a soft smile.
"I'm organizing," she replied, holding up the onesie for emphasis. "And also, we only have seven weeks left."
"Six, if she's anything like her brother," Jamie reminded her.
Ava let out a slow breath, both amused and slightly panicked. "Don't remind me."
He stepped into the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We've done this once. We've got this."
"It's different this time," she murmured.
He nodded. "It is. But in a good way."
She turned to face him, resting her hands against his chest. "I was so scared with Thomas. Everything felt uncertain. Like I was trying to remember how to breathe. But now… now I'm just excited."
Jamie kissed her forehead. "Me too. I can't wait to meet her."
A small voice echoed from down the hall. "Mama! Papa! Come see!"
They both turned as Thomas came skidding into the nursery, his curly brown hair bouncing and his face flushed with excitement. He held up a paper he'd drawn—a stick-figure family, four people standing beneath a giant sun and a lopsided tree.
"This is us," he said proudly, pointing to the figures. "Me, you, Papa… and baby sister."
Ava knelt to his level, blinking back emotion as she traced the smallest figure with her finger. "She's lucky to have you."
"I'm gonna read her stories," Thomas declared. "And help feed her. And tell her which books are the best."
Jamie ruffled his son's hair. "That's a lot of responsibility."
Thomas puffed up his chest. "I'm a big brother now. That's what big brothers do."
Ava and Jamie exchanged a glance—one filled with pride, with the quiet kind of love that grows deeper over time.
"Want to help us finish the crib?" Jamie asked.
Thomas nodded eagerly, running to the scattered tools.
As the three of them worked together—Jamie tightening screws, Ava handing him bolts, Thomas offering commentary—the room began to feel like more than just a nursery. It was becoming a space of stories yet to unfold, a room that would soon echo with soft cries, lullabies, and whispered dreams.
When the crib was finally assembled, Jamie lifted Thomas up so he could drop a soft plush rabbit inside.
"There," Thomas said. "She's all set."
Ava sat on the edge of the rocking chair, her hand moving rhythmically over her belly. The baby kicked gently, as if stirred by all the voices, and Ava smiled.
Later that evening, with Thomas tucked into bed and the house quiet, Ava and Jamie lay curled together on the couch, a baby name book open between them.
"What about Isla?" Jamie asked, running his fingers over her palm.
Ava tilted her head. "Isla Harper. Hmm. I like it."
"Or Maeve."
A pause.
She smiled. "Maeve sounds like someone who climbs trees barefoot and carries adventure in her pockets."
Jamie grinned. "Like someone who belongs to us."
Ava closed the book and rested her head on his chest, listening to the slow rhythm of his heartbeat.
"I'm scared sometimes," she admitted.
"Of what?"
"Of splitting my love. Of not having enough time. Of losing who we are."
Jamie's arms tightened around her. "You're not losing anything. You're making room."
"I don't want us to forget this. These quiet nights."
"We won't," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "We'll write them into the walls. We'll hold onto them even as everything changes."
She nodded, trusting him. Trusting them.
In the months ahead, there would be sleepless nights, diaper changes, chaotic breakfasts, and the sound of Clara and Thomas running through the halls when they visited.
But for now, in the soft hum of a peaceful evening, Ava and Jamie rest the calm before the storm—with hearts full of love and hands ready to welcome a new soul into their story.