The first time the baby kicked, it was a happy announcement. Melanie’s mother had fussed about it for the whole day afterward, and her father kept smirking to himself when he thought no one was looking. He might pretend to be stoic, but he was just as excited for the new baby as they all were.
More kicks came after that. Melanie could feel her baby getting used to its own little legs. If her mother had a hand on her belly at the right time, she felt it, too.
It’s a feisty little one, she’d say. You’ll have to keep your eyes on it.
They had no idea if the baby would be a boy or a girl. All Melanie knew for certain was that it kicked more and more every day. Sometimes the lurching feeling came right in the middle of the night.
One of those nights, she lay awake in her bed alcove, staring at the ceiling above and slowly rubbing a hand over the ever-growing bump. The baby fidgeted within her.
“I know you’re ready to come out now,” she muttered. “But you need a little more time. Just a bit. I can’t wait to meet you.”
There was a pause. Things settled. Melanie’s eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion creeping in.
Another kick. She drew in a surprised breath and opened her eyes again. The child couldn’t know what time it was, how tired she was. It was restless.
“I think you get that from your dad,” she mumbled. “I don’t think he’d be the type to sit around much, either.”
She shifted around, seeking a comfortable position that might put the kid to sleep. She had a feeling that carrying this child now was nothing to what was to come. Once it arrived, there’d be no stopping it.
She couldn’t be more pleased.
Brothers Apart 