Isn't It Wonderful?

Disclosure: All ideas in this short story are of my own strange imagination. I am not trying to reference any real area or landmark (apart from the U.S. states of Maine and California).

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Anna’s face glowed as she looked at the modest home with a “FOR SALE” sign perched in its small yard. “This would be the perfect place for the baby to grow up.” She gives me a soft smile as she gently rubs her abdomen, reminding me that our first daughter is due in just a short week.

“It’s not too small?” I say, my mind scrambling, searching for an excuse that this house just wasn’t right.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “The kitchen, full bathroom, dining area, living room, and two bedrooms. This is the perfect place to start a family, Jim.”

"Yeah…” I respond. I can tell she loves it. It is right near Lake Daisy, with lots of neighbors, and close to the elementary school-Pine Glen Elementary School-where our kids could go someday. There’s a hospital a ten minutes’ drive away, and we found some good doctors in the area-for us and our baby. But those things aren’t what make this house a bad fit. Heck, I don’t even care that it’s a bit small for my taste. No, the problem with the residence at 421 Lake Street is the location- Pine Glen, Maine. Where the hottest July temperature is 68 degrees, and average winter weather falls in the teens and twenties. I wanted to live in Redwood Falls, California, where the year-round temperature is a nice 80 degrees. But I know Anna would love to bring up our children in an area like where she grew up-snowy and mild in the summers, so I agree to buying the house.

We move in in the middle of March and spend almost a week getting all our stuff in the house. We hire painters and paint the house in warm yellows and cool grays and blues. We also hire some people to bring in appliances, and people to inspect our heater-we can’t have that break down on us. Anna helped with the dishes and clothes and then was down for the count on the new recliner. I just gave her a smile and brought in the rest of the furniture-with some assistance from my brother, Ryan. Anna’s mother, Teresa, drives out to help us decorate and put the finishing touches on our house. We go to the furniture store, where we find the perfect crib and dresser for the new baby’s room. Then Ryan and I go to get lunch while Anna and Teresa shop for baby clothes, toys, and other things we’ll need after the baby arrives. We go home and say our goodbyes and express our gratitude over Teresa and Ryan helping us so much.

That’s when it hits me. This us our house. Our house where we will laugh and cry, experience ups and downs, and raise our new daughter and kids to come. I sit on the couch with Anna as we watch a movie together-with popcorn, of course. I am a bit upset when I happen to realize that snow is falling gently outside the window.

“It looks as if spring doesn’t hit around here for a while.” I say as we get up to go to bed.

“No,” Anna laughs. “But maybe by April.” I help her into bed and she heaves a huge sigh as she rotates onto her side.

“Soon, dear.” I say. She nods. I get under the blankets beside her, and we fall asleep.

At two in the morning, I am awoken by Anna screaming with pain.

“It’s time,” she manages to say.

I help her out to the car and we speed down the street to the hospital. Anna takes deep breaths. When we rush inside, a nurse quickly assesses the situation and gets Anna into a wheelchair. We quickly head down the hall where the doctor tells her she’s already far along, and that she needs to push. After feeling helpless as my wife screams in pain, our baby girl is out, and placed, all cleaned up and ready, into Anna’s arms.

“She’s… beautiful.” I say.

“Jasmine.” Anna says.

“What?”

“I think her name is Jasmine. Like the flower. But what about her middle name?” I think for a moment before it hits me.

“Her name is Jasmine Leah.” I say. And I see that Anna likes the name as much as I do. Jasmine, the pale yellow flower, like her hair as light as, well, jasmine. Leah, for my grandmother, Leah Rose Aspen. Later I found out the name Leah means cow, but I guess Jasmine loves milk. After everything is done at the hospital and Anna and Jasmine are discharged, we go home where we put little Jasmine in her crib. Anna, exhausted, goes to bed.

As months pass, Jasmine hits each milestone in our home. She sits, stands, and walks right on cue. I teach her to ride a bike, fish, and play soccer, and Anna falls pregnant and has our second daughter, who we name Claire. Jasmine was thrilled, and we added a trundle bed for when they get older. Claire and Jasmine loved to play princesses together, but they told me they would never need a prince because they were “indapandank ladies who don’t need a man”. They go to school at Pine Glen Elementary, and we walk with them there each morning. We visit Maine’s state parks with Claire and Jasmine and watch them grow up. And when Anna gets pregnant again-this time with a boy-we know Maine is our forever home. We just might need to have another room put in for our future son.

And as the years have passed, I have learned to love it. We raised Jasmine and Claire here, and our little boy will grow up here too someday. And maybe-just maybe-we could visit California as a family one day. Just so I can see what it’s like.