"What do you mean, you're going to work on the car again?" I stared at my husband, who was standing by the doorway looking edgy and uncomfortable, his tool box in his hand and a guilty frown on his face. "You can't go today. You promised we'd go shopping for baby furniture."

"I know, Abbie. it's just ..." Mitch refused to meet my gaze. "Phil had some free time today and we're really close to finishing it. That thing's a classic -- if we can sell it after we're done restoring it, we'll be able to pay the whole bill at the hospital and have some left over."

The disappointment seemed to well up in my throat and I fought down the tears that always seemed to be close to the surface lately. I never used to cry much but during the last six months of pregnancy, I felt like I'd turned into a geyser. I knew Mitch had our best interests at heart while he and his younger brother were restoring an old car he'd found for $500 in the want ads. But I still resented all the extra time he was spending away.

"This is our only time together. With both of us working different shifts, I've only seen you for a few minutes a day all week long. And you know how much I wanted to at least find a crib today."

"I know. I'm sorry, Abbie." He still refused to meet my gaze.

"You think we have all the time in the world, don't you?" I cringed at my sharp tone and tried to calm down. "Mitch, this baby is going to be here in three months and we're still not ready."

"Next week we'll go. I swear, hon. Love you."

He was already out the door as the tears I'd been fighting gushed out. This had been the way our relationship had been for the last month. Every time I tried to arrange time for us to be together, Mitch escaped to his brother's house a few miles from ours. Couldn't he understand I needed him here? That I had fears and worries I needed to share with him? One of the biggest of those fears was that he regretted this decision to have a child. When we first found out I was expecting, Mitch had been as thrilled as I was about this baby. He'd gone with me to the doctor appointments and had devoured all the literature on childbirth. Lately, though, it seemed like the bigger I got with this baby, the more distracted he became. We bickered over the littlest things, from what kind of cat food to buy to how long to water the lawn.

I also couldn't help wonder if maybe Mitch was comparing our life Ñ filled with talk of diaper services and stroller brands Ñ with his brother's. If he was, I was afraid to know which would come out the winner. Phil was a footloose bachelor, with a different beautiful Ñ and skinny Ñ woman on his arm every week. He had a fancy car, a giant big-screen television set, and a state-of-the-art stereo system. How could I blame Mitch for preferring to spend his free time there, rather than at home with me and my huge stomach and swollen feet?

Things didn't seem to improve the rest of the week. Mitch left early each day to go to work at his construction job and returned after I'd already left for my late shift at the hospital. We barely had time to exchange hellos and by Friday, I was exhausted and depressed. Some of my emotional turmoil must have shown on my face because I'd just delivered a painkiller to a patient when Kate, my best friend since nursing school, dragged me into the lounge.

"Okay. What's going on?"

At the concern in her expression, all my emotions bubbled over and those ever-present tears welled up in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. She thrust a tissue at me. "Come on, tell Aunt Kate what's wrong. Is Mitch still off in his own world?"

I nodded. "It's been worse this week." Kate silently handed me another tissue and I sniffled into it. "We both decided working the night shift would be better for me," I went on, "since the pay is better and the work is not as strenuous while the patients sleep. But I feel like we're living on different planets now. Mitch seems so preoccupied."

She frowned. "You know, I really think he's just nervous at the prospect of becoming a daddy. It's a huge responsibility and that kind of adjustment can be hard on anybody."

"Doesn't he realize I'm terrified, too? This is the scariest thing I've ever done!"

"Well, you've had a little more time to adjust to the idea Ñ six months of heartburn, morning sickness and fatigue. For him, it's probably just beginning to seem real, now that you're getting closer to delivery."

I sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"Why don't you sit down and talk to him about it. If things have really been as bad as you say, he's probably felt it, too, and he's probably as unhappy as you are. It might help him to share his worries with you."

I gave her a quick hug Ñ well, as close to a hug as I could get in my current swollen condition. "Thanks, Kate. It helps to talk about it."

"By this time Monday, I'll bet you have your old husband back."

With new hope, I finished my shift. To my surprise, there was a light on in the family room and the television buzzed softly when I entered the house. "What are doing up so early?" I started to say, then stopped when I realized Mitch was asleep in his armchair, a book spread out across his lap.

Had he been there all night? I smiled. He looked so strong and handsome in the soft pool of light from the lamp. His dark hair shimmered in the light and his shoulders seemed to fill the whole chair. I wondered if our little girl would have that dimple in her cheek like her daddy did and if she'd hate eating broccoli, too. Tenderness and love swelling inside me, I fought the urge to smooth back that lock of hair dipping onto his forehead. Instead, I reached to take the book from his lap. To my surprise, it was one of my pregnancy books, open to a picture of what a baby at six months looked like. His thumb covered the baby's face, as if he had been caressing it, and my heart twisted in my chest.

"Honey?" I whispered.

He came awake with a start. "What is it? What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

I laughed softly, touched that the baby would be the first thought in his head when he awoke. Kate was right. She had to be. Mitch wanted this baby as much as I did. It was just last-minute nerves coming between us.

"No. The baby's fine," I said. "You fell asleep on the chair. I thought you'd be more comfortable in bed." He looked disoriented for a moment, then nodded and followed me into our room.

The exhaustion of the past week suddenly overwhelmed me and I quickly drifted into sleep. I awoke refreshed and with renewed hope. Mitch was already up, probably eating breakfast, I thought. Somehow I knew everything would be all right today. I dressed in my prettiest maternity outfit with a lightness in my heart that had been missing for weeks. Today we would go shopping for baby furniture and then we would have a nice long talk about the changes our life would undergo.

"Honey, I thought we'd go to the Furniture Barn first," I called out as I finished dressing. "I saw they're having a sale on all their baby things. Maybe we could buy everything in one stop and still have time to go the movies or something."

When there was no answer, I peeked my head out into the hall. I couldn't hear him anywhere, so I walked into the kitchen to find it empty and a note on the table. "Abbie, gone to Phil's to work on the car. Be back late." In tiny letters, like he'd added them as an afterthought, he wrote "I love you."

My good mood evaporated like smoke. How could he have done this to me again? He knew how badly I wanted to spend time with him today. I wasn't going to let him get away with it, I thought. Our marriage was more important than any stupid car. It only took me a few moments to drive to his brother's house. I marched to the side door of the garage, ready to spill all my anger and frustration and fear.

When I pushed it open, both Phil and Mitch looked up. The power tool they were working on whined to a stop as matching looks of guilt crossed both their faces.

"Abbie! What are you doing here?" Mitch said.

"The question is, what are YOU doing here? You promised we'd go shopping today, Mitch!"

He winced. "I forgot."

Phil, as if sensing the tension in the air, backed toward the door. "I have some things to do inside. Good to see you, Abbie."

I barely glanced at him as he left. Instead, I turned to my husband again, ready to tell him I'd had enough and didn't care if he ever finished fixing up that stupid car, when my attention was suddenly caught by the shine of polished wood in the corner of the garage. For a few, breathless moments I stared in disbelief at the sight of a rich cherrywood crib along the wall, a matching changing table and even a rocker that looked as soft and smooth as butter. Questions swirling through me, I crossed the hard cement floor to the crib and ran my hands along the sleek wood. It was exactly the one I'd dreamed of, with the canopy and everything.

"What's going on? Where did all of this come from? It's gorgeous!"

Mitch fidgeted and color tinged his cheeks. "Are you sure you like it? If you don't, there's still time to make some changes. We could stain it another shade or whatever."

At his words, I looked carefully at the furniture and for the first time noticed the handmade touches. "Mitch, you made these? The crib, the rocker, everything?"

He nodded, his face still red. "Phil helped. There's a bureau, too, but we're not quite done with it."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"A couple of months. Whenever we weren't working on the car, we worked on this."

While I'd been nagging him to help me get ready for the baby, he'd been spending all his spare time here, getting ready in his own way, I realized. A lump suddenly clogged my throat. "Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I wanted it to be a surprise. You were working so hard, eating the right foods and doing everything to give the baby the best chance possible. I wanted to do something, too."

"Oh Mitch." Those blasted tears began again as I realized the enormous amount of work Ñ and the love Ñ that had gone into crafting each piece of furniture.

"Please don't cry, Abbie." He enfolded me in his arms. "I thought you'd be happy. One less thing to worry about."

"Oh, I am. I am! It's just ... I've been so mean about everything lately. I didn't know what to think these last few weeks. I thought you were regretting that our lives were going to change so much."

He stared. "You thought I didn't want the baby?" "I didn't know if it was the baby or just me," I said in a small voice.

"Oh, Abbie." He tightened his hold on me. "I love you. Nothing will change that. Ever. This baby has only made me love you more." As if she knew we were talking about her, the baby suddenly kicked me hard in the ribs, so hard Mitch must have felt it because he leaned back, his blue eyes intense and filled with joy. I smiled.

As peace spread through me, I reached for his hand and placed it on my stomach. We stood surrounded by the beautiful wooden furniture he'd made, and caught a clear glimpse of the future. And it was perfect.