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We used to love surprising each other. In the early years of our marriage, he’d appear at my office with tacos from the food truck I loved. I once met him at the airport holding a handwritten sign that said Welcome back, grumpy traveler. We laughed easily then. We reached for each other without thinking.
Then I turned onto our street and saw the cars.
They lined both sides, stretching along the curb in front of our house and even two houses down. My stomach tightened before my thoughts caught up. Then I noticed the balloons. Blue and pink. Then the streamers on the porch railing. Then the banner stretched across the yard: Welcome, our little miracle.
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