Justin

After hours of research and multiple consultations with the neurologists and doctors at Kelowna General Hospital about the possibility of the brain tumour I used to have being genetic, Addie and I finally made a decision.

It turns out, that what happened to me was simply abnormal and not genetic – thank God. Meaning, the possibility of my own children suffering in the same way I did was highly unlikely. It was a relief, especially after Addie and I got married at the age of twenty-four. I know it wouldn't have been enough to drive us apart because Addie was the first one to suggest other options, such as adoptions, when I admitted to being scared that I could pass it down, but I know just how much she wanted kids.

So when the good news was shared with us, we decided it was a good idea for us to start trying to have a kid.

That was when we were twenty-four. We're both twenty-eight now, with a beautiful daughter that we made together, out of love. Her name is Mila Helene McCallister and Addie was not the only one that started crying the moment she was born. I shed just as many, if not more, tears than my wife.

I've officially been labelled as free of epilepsy, but that doesn't mean I will ever forget what it was like to suffer through it and know that the future was up in the air. I never thought I would be where I am today: cured, happily married to my high school sweetheart and raising a little girl that shares our blood, working my dream job, and living in my own house. Epilepsy was a barrier that prevented me from believing in my dreams, in my future. And, from what I've learned, you don't really acknowledge just how special these moments are until you face them. Yes, I understood, as each day passed, that I really was cured, but the brunt of the realization has never hit me until a dream has come true.

Yeah, I sound sappy as hell, but it's the truth and I'm not ashamed of it. Since being cured, I appreciate everything on a whole new level, never taking anything for granted.

Like Mila's second birthday, which is today. August first.

Today, Addie and I are having everyone over for dinner and a birthday celebration. Everyone's coming – Addie's parents, my mom, Chris and his girlfriend, Jake and Alex, Sophia and her husband, Sophia's parents, and Jaymes.

Before, I would have thought this was entirely overboard, to be decorating the house, baking a cake, and all that – a two-year-old isn't going to remember it, right? But why should we give up celebrating the birth of someone who has brought Addie and I more joy than we could ever ask for?

"Justin?" Addie calls from the living room.

"Yeah?" I shout.

"Have you seen Mila's blanket? I can't find it."

Finished with the dishes, I throw the damp cloth over my shoulder and head into the living room. Addie is holding Mila as she checks between the cushions of the couch. "I think it was in her playpen. That's where I saw it last time, at least."

Addie straightens up and walks over to the playpen sitting in the middle of the room. It's filled with toys and stuffed animals, and as Addie rifles through it, I watch.

Years have passed since the day we met, but it seems like no time has passed. Though we've both gotten older, Addie is still just as beautiful as she was that day. And adding Mila into the picture amplifies it to the max.

Speaking of Mila, Addie says she's the perfect mix of us. But as the days pass, I find myself looking at a younger version of Addie. Mila may have my hair colour and sharp cheekbones, but she has her mom's heart-shaped face, blue eyes, and soft jawbone.

"Aha!" Addie exclaims. "There's the little bugger!" She grabs the blanket and hands it to our daughter, who giggles happily as she grabs the broken-in blanket, and then turns around. "What are you grinning about?" she asks me.

"Nothing," I reply.

She gives me that look. "You have a shit-eating grin on your face, Justin. What's it about?"

I shrug. "Is it a crime to admire my two favourite ladies in the world?"

"Okaaay," she says, blushing. "Is everything ready for our guests?"

I nod, listing off everything that's been completed: the cake (which Addie made and I attempted to ice), the lasagna's been put into the oven, the Caesar salad is in the fridge, and the garlic bread is waiting to be toasted.

"Awesome," she says, stopping and planting a kiss on my cheek. "Now hold her so I can go get changed into something more party-like."

I chuckle to myself. "I don't know why you're always carrying her, Addie. She started walking at nine months. Hell, she can even dress herself and speak some words."

Addie looks me directly in the eye. "They grow up, Justin. And you don't want to miss out on anything. That's what my mom told me." She hands Mila over to me. "Besides, she's acting rather clingy right now."

Sure enough, Mila's small arms wrap around my neck and she rests her head against my chest, all while cuddling her blanket.

Addie heaves a sigh. "Of course she calms down with you."

I grin. "A daddy's girl just like her mother."

Addie sticks her tongue out at me as she fights a smile, and then heads upstairs to get changed.

While she's upstairs, I head to the kitchen with Mila. She's quieter than usual, but I think it's because she skipped out on her nap today. I hope she doesn't get too grumpy when everyone comes over.

"Happy Birthday, Mila," I whisper, tapping her on the nose.

She smiles and pushes my hand away. I'll admit, when I'm around my daughter, I instantly turn to mush. She's a little bundle of joy that makes me smile no matter what mood I'm in. When I was younger, I swore I would never be that kind of dad. The fact that I've proven my younger self wrong and had a kid while happily married, makes having Mila even better.

"Daddy, hug," she says in her squeaky little voice.

I give my daughter a hug without a second thought. Already, I can tell I'm going to be one of those dads that spoils his daughter beyond belief. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, just looking at that sweet, beautiful face. But just because she makes me happier than I could have possibly imagined doesn't mean I'm not going to make sure she learns life's lessons and turns out more like her mom, with maybe a couple of my attributes. I want her to have Addie's understanding and selflessness, my strength and resilience, all combined with characteristics from my mom and Addie's parents.

I want Mila to have the childhood that Chris and I didn't get.

"Okay," Addie says as she walks into the kitchen. "We're all set. Now we're just waiting on the guests to arrive." When she's standing in front of Mila and I, she adjusts the little white dress that's decorated with cherry blossoms that Mila is wearing. "This dress was the best gift I got at the baby shower," Addie adds. "Helene made a great decision getting us something that would fit Mila in the later years. We got so many onesies and outfits for her when she was a newborn."

I nod in agreement, looking at Mila. "Do you like the dress, too?" I ask.

"Yes," Mila replies.

Addie's words from earlier come back to me. Soon, Mila's voice will be different than it is now, soon her vocabulary will go from filling up one page of the dictionary to hundreds. I can understand why we need to document these small moments and keep them close to our hearts.

"When Grandma gets here, Mila," Addie says in her sweet, motherly voice. "You should tell her how thankful you are for the dress."

Mila nods and goes back to playing with the fraying edges of her pink blanket.

I'm just about to tell Addie that we should get Mila a different blanket – she's had the same one for two years now – when the doorbell rings.

Addie's face lights up and she looks at me. "Ready?" she asks.

I brush some of Mila's ashen blonde hair from her face. "Let the party begin," I nod.

* * *

The evening goes perfectly. Meaning, Mila doesn't let her overtiredness get the best of her. Up until everyone leaves, she's happy and laughs and smiles. She crashes soon after, leaving Addie and I some quiet time to finish up the dishes and spend some time together.

"I love having the family over," Addie says as she dries the plate I just finished washing.

I nod in agreement. "It's always fun." I'm not lying when I say this. It's been an honour to be part of watching how everyone has grown up – Jake, Alex, Chris, Sophia, our parents. Everyone. Being part of a great big family again after losing most of mine is something I never asked for, but got thank to Addie.

A lot of things are thanks to Addie, and sometimes I wonder where I'd be if I hadn't met her. If she hadn't slipped that note into my binder back in high school.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Justin?" Addie asks, glancing at me. She lightly taps my temple. "I want to know what you're thinking about."

I smile and shrug, finishing up the last dish. "Everything, I guess," I reply, leaning against the counter. "How you're one of the main reasons we have what we now have."

Addie blushes a little, but she waves it off by pulling me into a hug. "I've told you this before and I will keep telling you until the day I die. You did this all by yourself. I was only there to support you. You made the decisions. You were strong enough to fight through it all." She rests a hand on my chest, just above my heart. "You are an extraordinarily strong man, Justin McCallister."

As usual, I'm ready to make a point that I wouldn't have gotten through it if she hadn't been there to support me, which inevitability led to my inner strength, but I'm interrupted by the screeching of the kettle.

Addie rushes over to pull it off the stove, and then proceeds to pour the boiling water into the teapot nearby.

When she turns around, there's a content look on her face, so I decide not to try and prove my point tonight. It's not that we fight over it – that would be stupid. We just agree to disagree. Addie thinks I got through on my own. I think she's the reason I was able to. Whatever the real answer is, all that matters in the end is that we love each other.

"Want a cup of tea?" Addie asks.

"Sure," I reply, draping the damp towel she was using to dry dishes over my shoulder.

I watch from the kitchen sink as she carefully pours the tea into two mugs, both red and chipped a little.

As the tea cools down, Addie finishes wiping down the counters. Normally, I'd help her, but the counters have already been washed and dried. I don't know why she's doing it again. The only time Addie ever repeats things is when she's anxious.

"Addie?" I ask, walking over and resting my hand on the small of her back. "What's wrong?"

She sighs and puts the cloth down, taking the one off my shoulder to quickly dry the wet spots on the granite. "I'm late," she whispers.

My eyebrows rise in surprise.

And Addie takes it the wrong way. "I'm sorry – I know we didn't have anything planned or even discussed the topic of having another kid, but..." She ends the sentence with a defeated sigh and shakes her head.

She's right – we didn't discuss it. I try to think back to when we possibly could have – oh. There was that one night, two months ago, when Addie and I had asked my mom to babysit Mila so we could go out. We ended up needing to take a taxi home and if I can remember correctly, through the haze of alcohol, things definitely got serious as soon as the front door was locked behind us.

I chuckle to myself. Figures. After all the times we're so careful and responsible, we end up making a mistake that a couple that's young and naïve would make. But, in our defence, we didn't really get a chance to be reckless when we were in high school or the first couple of years of college. Besides, this one little blip is very different. First of all, we're married. Second of all, we already have a beautiful little girl.

I look at Addie, who looks majorly stressed, and I feel bad for her. She shouldn't be stressed. She should be as ecstatic as I am. I've wanted another kid since the moment I held Mila and saw that chubby little face bracketed by a soft pink blanket. I just never said anything because after seeing what Addie and her body went through, I decided to let her decide. If she wanted another kid, she could bring it up and tell me.

"Why are you apologizing?" I ask, grinning like a fool. I pull her into a tight hug. "We're having another kid?"

Addie pulls back and stares at me. "You're not upset?"

"Are you kidding me?" I feel like a fucking kid on Christmas morning right now. "I've wanted another one since Mila was born. I just figured it was your choice. You are the one who goes through everything."

Addie breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay. Good. Because I want another one, too. I think Mila needs a sibling."

I gently poke her in the ribs. "Of course she does. Being the only child sucks."

My wife smiles, and I know she's thinking of her brothers. "It's been two months."

"I figured that," I admit. "That night we asked my mom to babysit Mila, right?"

Addie nods, her cheeks turning pink.

I laugh and pull her back into a hug. "I can't wait," I whisper. "I can't fucking wait."

"How do you think Mila will react?" Addie asks, her voice muffled. I ease up the hug a little. "She's been an only child for two years now. Having a younger sibling might be difficult at first. I know it was for me. And I had two of them."

"She'll be fine," I reply. And then a thought occurs to me. "Y'know," I say with a grin. "There is the potential of you having twins. That has to do with genes, right?"

Addie nods, looking overwhelmed. "Well...if it happens at least I can ask my parents for advice." She glances at me, those stunning blue eyes wide and innocent. "And we've got each other. We can do this."

"Damn right," I say, kissing her forehead. "We've been through much worse."

And we have.

Our experiences were much different, but we still went through everything together. I couldn't be more thankful for where my life is now. It means that everything Addie and I faced was worth it in the end; our strength and resilience wasn't wasted. I would go through everything all over again just to meet her.

"Addie?" I ask.

"Yes?" she murmurs.

I rub my hand up and down her back. "I love you," I whisper. "And I can't wait to see what the rest of our life together brings us."

"I love you, too, Justin," she replies.

I kiss her forehead again.

My life used to be crazy, but now it's perfectly crazy. I have a family, a home, a job. More than I ever asked for.

And you know what?

It's all thanks to Addie.

That shy teenage girl that was too shy to talk.

That shy teenage girl that left a note in my binder.

That shy teenage girl that I have the honour of calling mine forever.