After landing in Denver the late Tuesday afternoon, we picked up Keely from her friend's house, Maria, who she'd been staying with while Andrew was in DC. It was a quiet night in, Keely telling us over dinner about the fall schedules that had just been released. She was ecstatic to know that she had at least one friend in every class and that she had B lunch, which was apparently the best since it wasn't too early nor too late. Her only complaint was in regard to Spanish.

"They put me in Spanish II Honors." She groaned.

"Why is that not a good thing?" I asked, not understanding.

"I haven't taken Spanish I since 6th grade, back in DC. Everyone here took it in 8th grade, but since I already had, I got to take an elective. If you choose to continue on with Spanish II in high school, as opposed to switching languages, you automatically get placed based on your grade from middle school. Since I got an A, I got put in honors, but I barely remember a thing."

"Well, I can help you with that if you want. I've been fluent in Spanish for almost as long as I can remember."

"That'd be great – thank you! I'm going to need all the help I can get if I don't want to be the laughingstock of the class."

I had to bite my lip not to laugh at the dramatics, but promised not to let that happen.

####

The following day, Andrew returned to work. The movers arrived shortly after he left, helping set up my bedframe, nightstand and dresser from DC in the guest room upstairs before unloading the rest of the boxes. What's left is mostly clothes and books, along with a single box of knickknacks and mementos from my travels that I will hide away in the closet of the master bedroom.

My clothes are quickly put away, hung in the half of the closet Andrew cleared for me or folded neatly into the matching second dresser he bought. As for the books, most fit on the full wall bookshelf in Andrew's office. There are a handful though that I carry upstairs, into the room that will soon become the nursery. We haven't bought much furniture yet, in fact, the only thing in the room so far is a white two-tier bookshelf. Sitting down on the carpeted floor, I start unloading my favorite children's books onto the shelves.

"Can I join you?" I'm startled by Keely's voice from behind me.

"Of course." I pat the floor next to me.

"This was my favorite growing up." She says, picking up my copy of The Story of Ferdinand.

"Mm, I love that one, too. My grandfather used to read that to me when I was a little girl. He played a big part in instilling my love for books."

"Frederick, Corduroy, Caps for Sale…" She reads off titles as she flips through the books. "Even some of the Dr. Seuss books. Did you buy out the bookstore?" She laughs.

"Is it too much? I guess I never even considered the fact she could hate reading."

"She? It's a girl?" Keely's excited voice asks, and I mentally kick myself.

"You're going to have to act surprised when your dad gives you a gift later meant to reveal that particular piece of information. But yes, you're going to have a little sister." I smile at the obvious delight in Keely's eyes.

"Yes! I was hoping for a girl." She leans in for a hug, which despite my surprise at the physical contact, I return gladly. "Don't worry, my dad won't know a thing. And no, by the way, it's not too much."

####

That evening, Andrew presents Keely with the smallest pink tennis racquet we could find, saying that he hoped someday she could show her little sister the ropes. To her credit, she acts genuinely surprised. In fact, I didn't even think Andrew knew she was faking… until later that night.

We're sitting up in bed, Andrew leaning against the headboard, myself between his open legs, resting against his chest. My nightgown is rucked up, baring my abdomen where our daughter is growing inside, and Andrew is rubbing lavender scented lotion into my skin. I revel in the closeness of just being with him, neither of us speaking, just enjoying each other's presence.

But the quiet is broken a few minutes later when Andrew asks a question that has me inwardly cringing. "So, how did Keely really find out it's a girl?"

He doesn't sound mad, not in the slightest. If anything, he sounds amused. "It's my fault. Keely came in while I was putting some books up in the nursery. We were talking and I made a comment about whether or not she will even like books."

"With you as her mama, I have no doubt she will." He says, kissing my shoulder.

"So how did you know?"

"She curls her lips in whenever she knows about a secret, like she's trying to stop herself from smiling. I first noticed it when she was six. She'd heard me talking on the phone with Megan about getting her a bike for her birthday. On the day of, she tried to act surprised but I saw right through it. Over the years, she's perfected the act, but she still curls her lips."

I smile at that, snuggling further into him and resting my hands atop his on my belly. "I can't wait to learn this little one's tells."