We ran into each other at a local bar— the kind of place where the floor sticks a little and everyone’s half someone you used to know. We were just familiar faces from high school days that neither of us thought about anymore. But there we were, smiling like no time had passed at all. We talked over cheap beers and bad music, about nothing and everything— the old teachers, the weird kids, how neither of us expected to still be in Muskegon. When the night wound down, no one wanted it to end. So we piled into cars, ended up at Ben's Airbnb with a handful of friends, laughing too loud, and burning pizza rolls in the oven at 2 a.m. That should’ve been it— just a random night, a funny story to tell later. But we never stopped hanging out after that. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into something we couldn’t imagine not having forever. Now there’s Lennon— our baby girl with Ben's calm eyes and Kendal's stubborn grin. Sometimes we look at her and think about how small the world is, how we went to the same high school and still had to meet again like strangers to really see each other. I guess that’s how it happens— not all at once, but in the middle of a regular night, over pizza rolls and laughter, when you least expect it, and you just… never stop showing up after that.