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“Thanks.” She smiled, thankful Dan was near. He found encounters with his parents draining sometimes too.

“So, let’s eat. I’m glad you’re here on time.”

Sarah smirked at Dan who rolled his eyes back at her.

Helen served the meal—brisket and roast vegetables.

Not usually what Dan ate during the playing season, but Helen never seemed to pay attention to the subtle and unsubtle hints about what an NHL player’s diet should consist of.

Variations of pasta and chicken weren’t favorite meals of Helen, it seemed.

Sarah soon relaxed, and enjoyed the meal, even though Helen kept looking at her. She refused Andrew’s reiterated offer to have wine, covering her glass. “Thanks, but not tonight.”

Or any time in the next six months. She would not let anything happen to this precious bundle inside.

Dan clasped her hand under the table, his touch instantly bringing ease. Oh, she loved how this man was always so attuned to her moods and needs.

“So, just one more week of the regular season, then playoffs, huh? How do you fancy your chances against Florida?” Andrew asked.

Sarah squeezed Dan’s hand. He’d tried his best, but the Leafs’ offense had been hit with injuries lately, and they looked destined to scrape into playoff contention, rather than steamrolling their way to the top of their division as predicted a month ago. They required only one more win.

“It’s a bit early to say,” Dan hedged. “We have to get there first.”

“Here’s hoping you do.” Andrew lifted his glass.

Sarah lifted her glass of water too. Smiled encouragement at Dan. “You’ll make it. You make that team great.”

He relaxed. “And this is why I love you.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, then murmured for her ears only, “and for other reasons.”

She smothered a laugh, glancing up to see Helen’s eyes on her again.

“You seem happy, Sarah.”

She half-shrugged. “It was a good day.” She shared about recording her podcast, and that she’d had some inspiration for a chord progression for a new song.

“No, it’s not that.” Helen’s head tilted. “I don’t know what it is. But you seem to be glowing.”

Glowing? Sarah instantly dialed down her smile. No. She didn’t want Helen putting two and two together. Not until she’d told Mum and Dad, at least.

Helen’s eyes rounded. “No.”

Oh no.

“Don’t tell me.” Helen’s voice hitched. “Are you… are you pregnant?”

Sarah’s grip tightened on Dan’s. “Um…”

“You are! Oh my goodness! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Sarah cast Dan a pleading look. He mouthed a “sorry” then turned to his mom. “We haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Why ever not? This is what you’ve been hoping for, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Dan’s attention returned to Sarah, and he kissed her hand again. “Praying for, for years.”

There. That proud yet tender, hope-filled look was why she couldn’t deny the man anything. Couldn’t even be too upset that his parents—the ones who had everything—had this information first.

She glanced back at his folks. “We wanted to wait until twelve weeks.”

“Especially after…” Dan stopped.

They hadn’t told his parents about the other miscarriages. They’d told her parents though. She cringed. She could imagine just how well this would go down.

“After what?” Andrew asked.

Good to see he was paying attention.

“It’s good to wait until twelve weeks so the baby is more viable,” Sarah said carefully.

Helen’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me you’ve been pregnant before?”

Hopes at keeping their previous experiences with pregnancy a secret deflated. But she couldn’t lie. “It was only twice.”

“Twice?”

God bless her ability to overshare. She gestured for Dan to take the lead. They were his parents, after all.

He fumbled his way through explanations, bravely taking the verbal bullets when Helen asked if that was why Sarah’s parents had visited last year.

Sarah studied her hands, now in her lap, tension rippling over her, through her.

She forced herself to relax. This was exactly what the doctor had warned about.

She needed to be careful not to let pressure build up, not to let herself get worried.

She tuned out the conversation as best she could.

She really needed to contact her parents.

She glanced longingly at her phone. Maybe she could do so now, before Helen took it upon herself to spill the beans.

Given the mood she was in she likely would, too, as payback for being out of the loop.

Ugh. How awful to think Helen would be so petty.

Ugh, and double ugh. She was an awful daughter-in-law to even think that.

“Well, Sarah, I can’t pretend not to be a little miffed that you didn’t choose to tell us about the previous pregnancies—”

“I’m sorry, but it was so new, I could barely get my head around it myself,” she rushed to explain. Especially when she’d been stunned by the fact she could even get pregnant. “Then when we lost them—” Her heart panged, her throat filled.

“It wasn’t an easy thing to talk about,” Dan said, coming to her rescue.

That’s what he did. He might be the Leafs’ top defenseman, but he was her protector too. She reached across and held his hand. Oh, she loved this man.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Helen grumbled again.

Heaven forbid Helen hold this against her. Sarah knew she would never measure up to Helen’s other daughter-in-law, Marguerite, who often seemed like she was Helen’s mini-me, albeit a nicer, younger version, and now a mother of two. The gold-plated daughter-in-law.

“It was only six and eight weeks, Mom,” Dan said tiredly.

“And how far along is this one?” Helen asked.

“Ten.”

“Well, practice makes perfect, huh?” Andrew said.

Sharpness stabbed her chest, and she blinked back emotion. How could he dismiss their agony in such a callous way?

He hadn’t seen their tears, hadn’t seen his son’s anguish, didn’t know the atomic bomb-sized emotions they’d experienced.

Ecstasy at finally believing God had granted the desires of their heart; then agony when it was ripped away.

The hopes, the possibilities, the future they’d dared to dream, then the doctor’s words in that examination room. “I’m sorry, but you’ve lost the baby.”

How crazy that it was a baby when it was wanted; a fetus if it was not.

“Dad, that comment was uncalled for.”

Sarah glanced at Dan. She’d seen that hard expression a few times. Usually when it was directed at an opposing player with a bad attitude. Dan glanced at her, his eyes softening, his eyebrows arching as if asking if she wanted to leave.

Boy, did she. She nodded.

He stood, then helped her up. “I have a big day tomorrow, so we need to go. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.”

“Yes, thank you,” Sarah murmured.

The next minute passed in mumbled apologies she wasn’t sure she believed, then they finally exited, and were safe in his car.

He reversed, and only when the house could not be seen did she relax. “I’m so sorry.”

“You? What for?”

“I didn’t mean to say anything.”

“Honey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I’ve always loved how your face can’t hide a thing.”

That made one of them.

“Besides, my mom guessed, and we couldn’t lie, could we?”

She shook her head. “It’s just that I really wanted Mum to know first,” she confessed.

His chin jerked. “They’d at least understand. I can’t believe my parents sometimes.”

“I think they just felt left out.” Regret shafted her chest. Maybe they should’ve told them about the previous pregnancies.

Even if they hadn’t because of exactly that reason, with their tendency to make things about themselves.

Dan’s parents weren’t much in the way of emotional support, or any kind of prayer support.

They weren’t believers, despite Dan and Sarah’s best efforts to share—and show—the good news.

“Well, they should know that if they’re going to react like that then of course they won’t be told.” He glanced at her. “What’s the time in Sydney?”

“Mid-morning. You think I should—?”

“Tell your parents? Yeah.”

She sighed, then tapped a message on her phone. Are you free for a chat? Ideally, she would’ve liked her sister, Rebekah, as part of this conversation too. Oh well.

Her phone was ringing by the time they reached the apartment’s parking garage, which meant there’d be guaranteed glitching until they were actually upstairs and in their home.

She had to wait to return her mum’s call as the elevator took its sweet time to reach the sixteenth floor.

Then, when it finally did, they were forced to make small talk with some neighbors.

Lincoln Cash was an actor, who just so happened to have moved two doors down from Dan’s cottage in Muskoka, then had bought an apartment in this very building, on Dan’s very floor.

He was working in a TV show being filmed here, so they’d bumped into him a few times.

Jackie, his wife, was nice, and they’d recently had a baby, which had caused no small amount of envy.

Finally they were able to escape inside their apartment and she returned her mother’s call. “Sorry about that. We had to wait until we were out of the elevator.”

“Is it true?” her mum asked.

“Is what true?” Sarah glanced at Dan, who shrugged.

“I just got a message from Helen Walton, congratulating us on being grandparents again.”

“Oh, Mum.” Sarah sank into the leather lounge and closed her eyes.

Dan murmured, “My mom messaged her?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed. Dan muttered something under his breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Sarah murmured. “We were waiting until—”

“Twelve weeks, I know. It’s okay, Sarah.”

“I really wanted you to know, too.” She sniffled. “Especially after what happened the last time.”

“It’s okay, honey. Is Dan there?”

She opened her eyes. “Yes.”

“Then put this call on speaker.”

She did, and Dan sat beside her, his arm around her.

“Congratulations, you two,” her mother said.

“Thanks, Mum.” Sarah pressed her cheek into Dan’s chest. His heart ticked reassuringly.

“Thanks, Lindy.”