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In the softly lit nursery, evening candlelight flickers on snow-framed windowpanes as Melina cradles Wyatt in a rocking chair beside Tener, both smiling down at the bundled infant.
In 2025, in Piper Glens, Melina and Tener rocked their brand-new baby, Wyatt. Snow dusted rooftops. Candlelight glowed. "Our cozy home," Melina whispered. "Our little star," Tener smiled. Wyatt wiggled happily.
Morning sunlight fills the nursery; Wyatt lies on a quilt, big blue eyes shining while Melina kneels close whispering 'Hello, sunshine,' and Tener gently taps the baby’s toes, a humming phone nearby.
Wyatt had big blue eyes like Dad and a sweet face like Mama. "Hello, sunshine," Melina cooed. Tener tapped tiny toes. Wyatt giggled. A lullaby hummed softly. The baby beamed, soaking up smiles.
Under quiet afternoon lamplight in the living room, Wyatt rests content on a plush blanket, cooing upward while Melina sits beside Tener on the sofa, their hands clasped as they study the peaceful baby.
Wyatt was always happy. He cooed and crooned and never cried. Still, something felt missing, like a puzzle piece. "What is it?" Melina wondered. Tener squeezed her hand. Wyatt blinked, curious and calm.
In a bright home office at midday, Wyatt sits on a rug patting a glowing laptop screen where Grandma and Grandpa wave, soft winter light pouring through a side window.
Grandma and Grandpa lived far away in Maryland. Visits were rare. Video calls helped, but hugs don’t travel. "We miss you," Melina said. "So much," Tener added. Wyatt patted the screen, smiling.
Inside the front hallway, coats dripping snow, Grandma lifts Wyatt high while Grandpa bends in to kiss his cheek; cardboard suitcases rest by the door under pale morning light.
One chilly day, Grandma and Grandpa arrived. They scooped Wyatt, kissed cheeks, and swayed. "Oh, sweetheart!" Grandma sang. Grandpa chuckled warmly. "We have a big announcement," they said. The room held its breath.
In the softly lit living room evening, snowflakes tap the picture window as Melina covers her mouth in delighted surprise and Tener raises both fists triumphantly beside her.
Ta-da! "We’re moving back to Chicago," Grandma announced. "Right down the road from Wyatt!" Grandpa added. Melina gasped. Tener cheered. Snowflakes tapped the window like tiny drums of celebration.
Afternoon sun streams into the kitchen; Melina slides a tray of golden muffins from the oven while Wyatt watches from a bouncy seat amid half-unpacked moving boxes.
Wyatt squealed, his very first excited cry. "He’s singing!" Melina laughed. Weeks passed as Grandma and Grandpa unpacked boxes. Tener built shelves. Melina baked welcome muffins. Wyatt supervised from his bouncy seat.
Evening fairy lights glow in the living room; Grandpa lifts Wyatt toward the tall Christmas tree so the baby can place a soft ornament among shimmering tinsel and multicolored bulbs.
Lights twinkled as they decorated a tree together. "Shiny lights," Melina said. Grandma hummed, "Twinkle, twinkle." Grandpa lifted Wyatt to place a soft ornament. Tener strung garland. The living room sparkled.
Under warm kitchen lights, Grandma sprinkles flour while guiding Wyatt’s tiny hand onto star-shaped dough, as Grandpa stands at the counter behind them briskly whisking batter.
They baked star cookies and cinnamon rolls. "A pinch of flour," Grandma instructed. Grandpa whisked. Tener timed the oven. Melina dabbed frosting. Wyatt patted dough gently, leaving tiny prints like snowflakes.
On a snowy neighborhood sidewalk at dusk, streetlamps glow over sparkling lawns while Tener pushes a bundled Wyatt in a stroller and Melina walks beside them, scarves fluttering.
Evening fell on Piper Glens. The family bundled up and strolled. "Merry Christmas," Melina whispered to the night. Tener pushed the stroller. Grandma and Grandpa linked arms. Wyatt waved at glowing houses.
By the gentle glow of a bedside lamp in Wyatt’s nursery, Melina leans against the crib reading an illustrated Christmas story while the wide-eyed baby cuddles a blanket beneath hanging stockings.
On Christmas Eve, they read a bedtime story. Stockings rustled softly. "My wish came true," Melina said. "Mine too," Tener smiled. Grandma and Grandpa nodded. Wyatt yawned and cuddled close, bright-eyed.
Morning sunlight spills across the living-room floor strewn with red ribbons as Melina and Tener kneel beside an open gift box hugging Wyatt, who squeals joyfully.
Morning arrived, Wyatt’s first Christmas day. Ribbons fluttered. "Family," Melina whispered. "Our missing piece," Tener said. Grandma and Grandpa hugged everyone. Wyatt squealed again, the happiest sound, as their family puzzle clicked complete.