But I didn’t understand it.

“Okay, everyone together!” the photographer called.

“Parents in the center. Girls in front.”

We arranged ourselves exactly the way I had pictured.

My heart was racing.

The secret I had carried for weeks was finally about to come out.

“You’ve been very mysterious about today,” Wesley whispered.

“I have my reasons.”

He laughed and kissed my temple.

“You always do.”

That was the last moment that afternoon when he looked completely relaxed.

The photographer took several pictures.

The girls giggled.

Wesley joked with them.

Everything felt perfect.

Then the photographer smiled at me.

“One last picture. Something special, right?”

That was my signal.

My hands shook as I reached into my bag and pulled out the silver-wrapped box.

I handed it to Wesley.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

He smiled as he turned it over in his hands.

Our oldest daughter, Kayla, leaned closer.

Wesley lifted the lid.

Moved aside the tissue paper.

Then pulled out the tiny blue outfit.

I waited for his reaction.

I expected laughter.

Shock.

Maybe tears.

Instead, the smile vanished from his face.

His hands went completely still.

He stared at the little outfit.

Then at my stomach.

Then back at the box.

“It’s a boy,” I said excitedly. “We’re finally having a son.”

Wesley didn’t answer.

He looked toward his father.

And for one second, I saw something in my husband’s expression that I had never expected.

Fear.

“Wesley?”

He glanced toward our daughters before looking back at me.

His voice was low.

“Tell me you didn’t tell the girls that I wanted this.”

My excitement disappeared instantly.

“What?”

“Please,” he said. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Embarrassment rushed through me.

We were standing in front of our children, his father, and a photographer.

“Wesley, you’ve talked about having a son for years,” I said. “You’ve talked about fishing with him. Passing down the watch. You’ve dreamed about this since the girls were little.”

Wesley closed his eyes.

My words seemed to hurt him.

Then Mike laughed from behind us.

“Of course he has,” he said as he stood. “Every man wants a son. Someone to carry his name and continue the family traditions.”

Wesley’s entire body stiffened.

“Family traditions,” he muttered. “Like fishing at the lake.”

The girls stopped laughing.

Kayla looked from Wesley to Mike.

Then she lowered her eyes.

Something about that movement made Wesley’s expression change again.

Suddenly I knew there was something happening that I didn’t understand.

“Wesley, what is going on?” I asked.

He looked at me with so much pain in his eyes that it frightened me.

“You couldn’t have known,” he said.

“Known what?”

“Not here.”

He glanced at our daughters.

“Not in front of them.”

Mike stepped closer.

“Don’t ruin the moment, son. You’ve waited a long time for this. So have I.”

Now confusion turned into hurt.

“So you did want a boy. Why are you acting like I’ve done something wrong?”

Wesley gently placed the blue outfit on the picnic blanket.

“Because I did something wrong,” he said. “A long time before today. And I didn’t realize it soon enough.”

My stomach dropped.

“What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering me, Wesley knelt in front of Kayla.

He took her hands.

“Sweetheart, do you remember what you asked me this morning?”

Her lower lip trembled.

She didn’t answer.

Suddenly the entire afternoon felt different.

There was clearly something I hadn’t been told.

Something had happened before we ever arrived at the park.

“It’s okay,” Wesley whispered. “You can say it.”

Kayla swallowed.

Before she could speak, Mike scoffed.

“You’re making a huge deal out of nothing. A son carries the family.”

Wesley slowly turned toward him.

“Say that again.”

Mike shrugged.

“You know I’m right. A son carries the family name. He continues traditions. That’s how families work.”

Wesley stepped toward him.

“Don’t you dare—”

Then he stopped.

Behind him stood our three daughters in matching pink dresses.

All three were watching their father.

All three looked confused.

“What happened?” I demanded. “Somebody tell me.”

Wesley finally did.

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