“It’s perfect,” Julia raved as she and Ted strolled about the first floor of the empty brownstone. “Look at the size of this kitchen!”
“It’s bigger than our whole apartment,” Ted agreed.
Julia put an arm around his waist. “But you haven’t minded being so cramped and cozy, have you?”
He smiled down at her. “What do you think?”
Oblivious to the real estate agent, who’d moved on to the dining room, where he was extolling the quality of the crown molding, Julia and Ted shared a long, sweet kiss. Julia loved the little studio apartment where she and Ted had lived since their autumn wedding. But she couldn’t deny that it would be wonderful to have more living and working space.
“And upstairs...” the agent droned on.
Julia and Ted trailed after him. “You know, the price is right,” Ted said to her under his breath. “If you really like it, maybe we should go ahead and make a bid.”
Julia nodded. The brownstone needed a little work, but the price was reasonable, and it was within walking distance of both their offices. “Just think,” she said, giving Ted a squeeze. “A home of our own!”
Ted squeezed her back. “Everything’s going our way, darling.”
It really was, Julia thought. Immediately after their wedding, they had plunged into city life, determined to take New York by storm. Ted’s impressive portfolio had landed him a position at The New Yorker magazine. Julia’s luck had been just as good. After printing her story about the Swift River Indian reservation, the daily New York Chronicle had hired Julia to cover events and issues of local interest. She had her very own column—“Citywatch,” by Julia Marks-Wakefield. Now Ted was talking about taking classes at Columbia University in hopes of completing his bachelor’s degree.
“Two roomy bedrooms,” the realtor pointed out when they reached the top of the stairs.
“And look at this little room here!” Julia pulled Ted into a small room with one big, sunny window.
“Hmm,” Ted said, considering. “Just right for a study.”
“Just right for a nursery, I think,” said Julia.
“Well, yes, someday. But for now—” He broke off and stared at her. Julia, standing by the window, smiled at him. “Julia, you’re not...?”
She nodded. “I am. We are!”
“Julia!” Ted crossed to her side in two long strides. “I’m— I’m—we’re—oh, hurrah!”
Picking her up, he lifted her high in the air. Julia squealed with laughter. “How’s that for a scoop?” she asked him. “Extra, extra, read all about it!”
He set her back on her feet. Before he folded her in his arms, she saw that his eyes were sparkling with happy tears. “We make quite a team, Julia. And I think this is going to be our best story yet.”
The door to the hospital room was ajar. Ted nudged it with his toe because his hands were full—he was holding a large bouquet of red roses and a big stuffed bear. Julia didn’t notice him at first. But Ted didn’t mind at all.
Sitting up in bed, Julia cradled a newborn baby in her arms. Her eyes were fixed on the tiny, perfect face. Ted watched her laugh with joy as the baby screwed up his eyes and opened his mouth in a wide yawn. He took this as his cue. “Good morning, family,” he said, stepping into the room.
Julia looked up. “Hello, darling. You’re just in time for our post-breakfast burps.”
“Excellent. That’s when I find both of you at your most charming.” He pulled chair up to the bedside. “May I?”
Gently, Julia handed the swaddled baby to Ted. Gazing down at his son, named Robert after Julia’s father, an overwhelming feeling of awe, gratitude, and love swept over Ted. He and Julia had made a wonderful life together in the first year of their marriage, but nothing they’d made was as wonderful as Robert.
“We’re so lucky,” Ted said, putting his finger in Robert’s tiny hand to test his son’s grip. “We have everything we could ever want, don’t we?”
“I don’t.” Julia reached for a newspaper on her bedside table. “Take a look at this.” She tapped page three, where “Citywatch” was printed. A guest columnist was filling in while Julia was on maternity leave. Ted knew it rankled his wife to have someone else covering her beat. “Have you ever seen poorer writing?” she demanded. “They would be better off just dropping the column until I can be back on the job!”
Ted returned the baby to Julia’s arms. He skimmed the piece. “Actually, this isn’t half bad. I like her style.”
She swatted him with the newspaper. “You would. She usually writes about the music scene!”
Ted laughed heartily. His laughter trailed off a moment later, however, as he flipped through the paper. Julia leaned over to see what had caused his sudden soberness.
Julia read the headline out loud. “ ‘Hollywood Starlet Samantha Watson Dies.’ ” She clucked her tongue. “What a sad story. She was so glamorous and so young. To die in childbirth! How awful for the poor husband and the little baby.”
A lump in his throat, Ted closed the paper. The article hadn’t mentioned Amanda, and he didn’t see any reason to tell Julia about the connection. Poor Sam, Ted thought. Poor Amanda. And Sam’s husband, Jack Lewis. How must he feel, losing his wife at what should have been the happiest time of their lives? What if I’d lost Julia? He leaned over and gave her a tender kiss. He really did feel like the luckiest man in the world.
