I love the sound of my feet pounding on the pavement, the wind whipping through my hair. I love the serenity that the early morning brings, the stillness of the world before all the traffic and the man-made noise.

Like the paparazzi for example.

As I rounded my last corner, finishing out my morning run, I almost slammed into a guy with a camera standing on my block.

"Parker Adams!" he shouted, which immediately started a frenzy.

Shit.

I weaved my way through the mass of paparazzi currently outside my home, all of which were snapping pictures of me.

I'm sure none too flattering seeing as though I finished a nice 7-mile run.

"Parker, what's the gender of the baby?" one of the guys with the cameras asked, shoving his tape recorder practically into my face.

"When's the due date?" another lady asked.

I let myself into the house, locking the door behind me.

I was greeted by the sound of classical music, meaning that Emily was awake.

I unstrapped my running armband from my bicep, freeing my phone. "Good morning!" I called out.

"In the living room!" Emily called back.

I stopped for a bottle of water in the kitchen before making may way back to the living room, where Emily was standing up on a ladder, dusting the fan.

Only my 9-month pregnant wife would be dusting the fan at 8:13 in the morning.

"Princess," I said, rushing to her aid and helping her down the ladder.

"I am fine," she informed me.

Stubborn as always.

"I'm sure you are." I took the Swiffer Duster from her. "But the dusting of the fan can wait."

"It's so dirty up there," she said, peering up at the fan. "When's the last time we dusted the fans?"

I'm sure never.

"Why don't I make you some breakfast?" I suggested, leading her into the kitchen. "You're up rather early."

Usually when I got in from my morning run, I'd make her breakfast and deliver it to her in bed.

You always wanted those extra brownie points for that one day when you royally screw something up.

"She was up early this morning," Emily said, patting her extended stomach. "Kicking and ready to start our day."

I pulled out the kitchen chair for her, holding her hand as she lowered herself into it.

"You know what I'm craving?" she asked me, her eyes lighting up.

There's absolutely no telling.

Yesterday it was red velvet pancakes with colored sprinkles and chopped bananas all slathered in peanut butter.

Absolutely disgusting.

"What?" I asked, finishing off my bottle of water and tossing it into the trash can.

"That's some mad skill," she said, with a smile.

"What can I make you for breakfast?" I reminded her.

I cannot wait for her to have this baby. This pregnancy was getting to her head.

"Something with pickles."

"Pickles?"

She nodded. "And waffles."

"Pickles and waffles?"

She nodded again. "That sounds heavenly."

I'm so glad that I will never be pregnant.

"If that's what you want," I said, finding the ingredient for our waffle maker. "Have you been outside this morning?"

"I will after breakfast," she said, picking up the newspaper that the maid must have left for us. "Why?"

"The paps are everywhere."

"I always tell them that it's a pumpkin."

I tried to bite back my smile. My wife was something else.

"So the schedule for today," I said, as I dumped some milk into the mix.

"Don't talk to me about schedules," she said, waving me off. "We are not on a schedule."

"Oh but we are," I said, plugging in the waffle maker. "Emmett will be here early this afternoon."

"Right," she agreed.

"And Lee should be here later tonight," I said, mixing up the waffle batter. "But you know, don't count on that."

"I absolutely will."

I chuckled, searching the kitchen for some Pam to spray the waffle maker. "Are you sure you want everyone to stay here? I don't want to overwhelm you."

"I'm pregnant not dying."

That sass.

"I'm aware. However, they are perfectly capable of getting hotel rooms. Especially Lee."

"I won't hear of it."

Of course she wouldn't.

"Just an option," I reminded her, spraying down the waffle maker before pouring in the first batch of waffles.

"Don't forget the pickles."

"I won't," I promised, opening up the refrigerator. "And here's an idea."

She raised an eyebrow at me in question.

"When Emmett gets here, you can have him dust every fan in the house."

"I bet he's really good at dusting fans."

I nodded, locating the pickles in the refrigerator. "He probably does it all the time. Plenty of practice."

"Babe?"

I hate it when she says that. It's always followed by a request, and 9 times out of 10 I always end up saying yes because Emily Adams has me wrapped around her finger.

"Yes?" I asked, as I used a fork to pull a pickle out of the jar.

"You need to clean the car today."

"Clean the car?"

She nodded. "Like inside and out, really scrub it down."

"And why do I need to do that?"

"Because we can't have the baby in a dirty car."

Of course we couldn't.

"I really don't think that the baby is going to notice the condition of the car."

Emily's eyes began to fill with tears. "I don't want my baby to come into this world in a dirty car and a dirty house-"

"Okay," I interrupted, handing her a plate with a pickle on it, chopped into slices. "Babe, I will scrub the car for you okay?"

She wiped the tears off her face, nodding.

She was so hormonal, but I love her for it.

I bent down and gave her a quick kiss. "The baby will come into the world with a sparkling car and beautiful fans."

She laughed, taking a bite of her pickle.

"And whatever else the baby wants," I added.

Because I couldn't say no to Emily, not now and not ever.

~*~

"I'm going to run to the store," I informed Emily. "Is there anything you need?"

"Sushi," she said, her eyes widening.

"Sushi?"

"Yes! Like those tuna rolls?"

Emmett chuckled.

"Sushi it is," I promised, kissing her cheek. "I'll be home in a few."

Lucky for me, the garage was connected to the house, so I didn't have to outside and face all those paparazzi again.

They all wanted to be the first to report on Emily Adams's baby. The gender, the due date, the first picture. Everything.

It was sickening.

I bypassed Emily's Porsche Cayenne for my Ferrari California.

No, it wasn't a baby-friendly car like Emily's mom-SUV. But I'd driven a SUV from my teenage years through my early twenties.

I deserved a two-door convertible.

I took a detour on the way home from the store, the real reason I'd wanted to leave the house.

Although we were in need of milk and apparently sushi, I was in need of some advice.

I parked my car at the cemetery, walking the all-too familiar path back to my parents' graves.

I could walk this path with my eyes closed.

I laid a bouquet of flowers on my mom's grave before taking a seat on the dirt between both my mom and dad.

"I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing here," I admitted, staring up at the sky.

I always felt better looking up at the clouds and the blue sky rather than at my parents' headstones.

"I guess I'm just nervous really," I continued. "Emily's c-section is scheduled for Friday morning, and then I'm officially going to be a dad."

That's the scariest thing I've ever had to face.

"I mean I've practically been a dad since I was 18," I pointed out. "But that's not the same."

Lee was already a grown, teenage human. He wasn't a helpless baby who relied on me for life. Well, more Emily than me. But I was still going to be the dad of this tiny little dependent baby.

Dependent on me.

"What if I forget to feed it or something?" I pointed out.

Was it like a goldfish?

I let out a long sigh, my nerves causing me to tense up.

Whenever Emily had a question about parenting, she'd ring up her mom. She and her mom weren't best friends by any means, but her mom had been there for her throughout the entire pregnancy.

Whenever I had a question about parenting, I came to this gravesite. And sat here. And waited for an answer that never came.

I was completely clueless when it came to being an actual dad. And I didn't have anyone to ask for advice.

I was the first of my friends to have kids. And my parents were both dead.

"I mean, what's it even like?" I asked, continuing to stare up at the sky. "When you hold a baby for the first time I mean?"

I faintly remember my dad once telling me that it was like holding an alien.

But I was also 7.

When my mom quit her job to be a stay-at-home mom with Lee, my dad had to pick up the extra hours at work. And I feel like I hardly ever got to see him anymore, that I missed out on that part of my life.

My dad and I were never buddy-buddy close. On Sundays we'd sit next to each other on the couch and root on our favorite NFL football teams, and one time he taught me how to change a tire.

But that was about as deep as our relationship ever got.

I was always closer to my mom, being as though she was a stay-at-home mom and all.

But even then we never talked much about my chilhood, or about baby stuff. And now, when I really needed to know it the most, I felt like I was reaching into the dark.

~*~

"This car could not be cleaner," Lee informed me, stepping back to observe our handiwork.

"You could eat off to the hood of this car," I agreed, running my finger across it.

Not a single speck of dirt.

"Your baby will love it."

I rolled my eyes, hopping into the driver's seat of Emily's Porsche and pulling it back into the garage.

Mission accomplished.

"So what happens now?" Lee asked me.

I checked my phone to see the time.

"In about thirty minutes we all head over to the hospital, and they'll prepare Emily for her c-section, and by the end of today we'll have a baby."

Emily had to schedule a c-section delivery because of her size. Well, not had to. But it was highly encouraged. The doctor informed us that because Emily was so small, it could be damaging to both her and the baby if she were to go through with a regular delivery.

And although I'm sure I'll love this baby, there wasn't any way that I was going to risk Emily for it.

We both headed back inside, where Emmett was dusting the last fan.

"Do we have dust-free fans?" I asked him.

"You do," he informed me, hopping down off the ladder. "Why I'm not sure, but you do."

I shrugged, heading upstairs to change before we headed over to the hospital.

By the end of today I was going to be a dad. That was the strangest thing I'd ever had to try and wrap my head around.

I had to pass by the nursery to get to my room. The door was ajar, and I caught a glimpse of Emily. I slowly backtracked, opening the nursery door and stepping inside.

She was sitting in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth slowly as she read one of the baby books to her impregnated belly.

"You must be a friend said Corduroy," Emily said, in a sing-song voice. "I've always wanted a friend."

I took a seat on the floor.

"Me too said Lisa, and gave him a big hug."

She set the book down and looked over at me.

"What are you doing my love?" I asked, biting back a smile.

"I'm reading to our baby," she said, rubbing her belly.

"Corduroy?" I asked. "My parents read that to me when I was a baby."

"It's a classic."

I chuckled, picking up the book and placing it back on the baby's bookshelf. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, bracing her hands on both sides of the rocking chair and slowly easing up. "I've never been more ready."

"I'm going to go change," I said, gesturing towards my sweaty outfit. "And then we can get ready to head over to the hospital."

She nodded, kissing my cheek before leaving the nursery.

I headed back to my room, stripping my damp shirt and shorts for new ones.

Our hospital bags were already packed in the car, and I headed over to the staircase, wrapping my arm around Emily as she made her way down.

"I'm just fine," she promised me.

"And I believe you," I agreed.

The stairs always made me nervous. They said that pregnant women were clumsier in the third trimester, and they should avoid ladders and stairs.

And what two things have my wife used just in the past three days?

"Is there anything else that you need before we leave?" I asked Emily, once both of her feet were firmly on the lower-level of the house.

"Are the bags in the car?"

I nodded.

"Then I can't think of a single thing."

The four of us trooped out to the car, Emily taking her time getting situated in the passenger seat..

"Try not to make this a long birth, yeah?" Emmett asked from the backseat. "My iPad only has so much battery life and hospitals just freak me out."

"You hush," Emily ordered. "My baby will take as long as she needs."

Hopefully not too long. The last thing I want is to be standing in an operating room for an extended amount of time, watching as they extract my baby from my wife.

Just the thought gave me the shivers.

The hospital was ready for Emily by the time we got there, immediately setting to work.

She was first given an epidural, ensuring that she'd be numb for the procedure. The last thing she'd want is to feel them cutting her open.

I then exited the room while they fitted her with a catheter and an IV. That's not really something I wanted to witness, and I needed to get changed.

I was required to wear scrubs in the operating room.

As I changed into my scrubs, the realness of the situation began to descend upon me.

My wife was about to give birth to my child.

I was going to be a father.

"Hey," Emily said, as I came back into her pre-surgery area.

I nodded, afraid that if I tried to speak I might puke everywhere.

"The anesthesiologist is on his way to talk to us," Emily informed me. "And then we'll be prepped and ready."

"I can't do this," I blurted.

She raised her eyebrows at me in surprise. "You can't do what babe?"

"I can't be a dad."

She reached out her hand towards me, and I clasped her hand in my mine, my heart racing a mile a minute.

"I know it's scary right now," she said, quietly. "But we can do this."

"You don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "I'm a terrible parent."

I had the experience. I've seen my parenting skills firsthand.

"I was in charge of Lee and less than a year later he tried to commit suicide," I pointed out. "I can't control my temper. I don't even know how to change a diaper. I don't know what the hell a dad is supposed to do. Emily, I don't know anything about babies."

I was going to make the worst dad on this planet, just ask Social Services.

I hadn't been able to protect Lee. I loved him, I still do, but I couldn't do the one thing a guardian was actually supposed to do for you.

"Parker," Emily said, quietly. "You are going to make a beautiful father."

"You can't say-"

"You were a fantastic guardian to Lee," she continued. "You gave him everything. You're the reason he's alive today."

I shook my head. That wasn't true.

"You've always told me that I don't give myself enough credit," she pointed out. "You tell me that I'm too hard on myself or that I don't realize my full potential." She brought my hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it. "Parker Adams, you're going to make a great father. I know it."

And then the anesthesiologist came in, ready to prep Emily for surgery.

It was time for her c-section.

"We're going to get through this together, right?" Emily asked me.

This was the first sign of fear she'd shown, her first sign of uncertainty.

I needed to be strong for her.

That's what love was. Being there for each other through the ups and downs, and being strong when the other one couldn't.

So I took in a deep breath and took her hand in mine, smiling at her. "We're in this together."

We were taken back to the surgery room, and I was placed in a chair right next to Emily's head.

"How're you holding up princess?" I asked, as they began the incision.

She offered me a tentative smile, clearly scared.

For her c-section, they had to cut through the skin and the underlying tissue, all the way down to the uterus.

That sounded horribly painful to me.

The doctor was keeping Emily, and in turn me, updated throughout the procedure, letting us know when she reached a new layer, and then eventually when she reached the uterus.

She made a transverse cut and passed her tools off to her assistant.

It was now time to extract the baby.

Emily's eyes were filled with fear and determination as she waited. She wouldn't be able to hold the baby until she was in Recovery, but I was supposed to hold it.

I was supposed to be the first person to hold this beautiful new baby that Emily and I had brought into this world.

"It's a girl!" the doctor announced, briefly showing us the baby before she was whisked away to be cleaned up.

Emily smiled in relief.

The doctor delivered the placenta and then began to stitch Emily back up, which made my stomach churn.

She was going to be in plenty of pain later.

"Here you go," the nurse said to me, offering me the baby. "A healthy baby girl."

I reached out my arms, accepting the baby from her.

"7 pounds, 6 ounces," the nurse informed me, as I settled the baby in my arms.

I looked at this new life form, biting my bottom lip.

This was my daughter.

"Let me see," Emily said.

I turned so she could see the baby, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

I saw the love and admiration Emily had in her eyes for this baby as she kissed the top of her head, letting her lips linger there for a moment.

I wasn't sure what the future held, but I did know one thing.

As I stared into the face of this innocent, helpless baby, I realized how lucky I was to be given this gift, the gift of life.

And no, I wasn't perfect. And yes, I was going to make mistakes.

But with Emily by my side, Jamie Lee Adams was one lucky little girl.