by Hart, Staci
Laughter bubbled out of me. “Or that handsome. I was sure I’d end up with someone like Eagan.”
“An asshole?” Val asked.
“An intellectual. I think it might actually be a genetic disposition to be smaller if you’re smarter. Easier to route more blood to the brain,” I joked.
“I mean, Theo’s no plebeian,” Amelia added.
“It’s true,” I said. “He’s highly intelligent. I wonder sometimes what he would have become if he’d gone to college. But the truth is, he’s resourceful, and no matter how he got there, he’d have been successful. He and Tommy owe it to street smarts. The school of hard knocks and all that.”
“There’s plenty to be said for that. Some people are just destined to be successful,” Amelia said.
“I wouldn’t call it destiny. I’d attribute it to experience and circumstance, amplified by the Banes’ high testosterone output.”
Val snorted a laugh.
“What? It makes them far more determined and aggressive in their goals and thrill-seeking.”
“And in the bedroom,” she added with an eyebrow waggle.
I smirked. “Yes. And that.”
Amelia leaned in. “Is it weird to have sex when you’re pregnant? I mean…a baby in the room is bad enough, but a baby in the womb?” Her little nose creased.
“She doesn’t know what’s happening, so I don’t really think about it. Although, once she woke up, which was distracting. It’s hard to concentrate when your fetus turns a complete circle in utero while you’re getting nailed.”
They grimaced, laughing off their discomfort.
Val’s smile widened. “I want to know if it’s weird sleeping with twins. Like, do you ever look at the other one and get turned on?”
Amelia and I simultaneously winced.
“They look nothing alike,” I said flatly.
Rin and Val shared a look, but Amelia was nodding.
“Seriously,” she said. “I don’t even put them in the same stratosphere. Theo’s so…well, he’s so serious. And his smile is backward. And his hair is too short.”
“Tommy looks like a savage. I really wish he’d shave his face,” I said. “He’d never be on time if it weren’t for you and Theodore. He couldn’t even order his own groceries without Theo.”
Amelia laughed. “That’s true. He’d drive you crazy.”
Rin and Val just shook their heads.
“You guys are so weird,” Val said. “They are exact copies.”
“Except they’re not at all,” I insisted. “Tommy is the king of the smash and grab, and Theodore is the voice of reason.”
“Which is why Theo is perfect for you,” Amelia noted again. “Maybe someday, you’ll find yourself believing in magic.”
“I don’t need magic to be happy,” I said. “I think I just need him.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Val raised her glass. “To the men we need, even though we’d be damn fine without them.”
And with a laugh and a clink of our glasses, we drank to that.
It was after eight by the time Amelia and I made it home, parting ways on the sidewalk.
I was ready for bed.
I didn’t care that it was too early to sleep—I’d wake up at four in the morning, ready to party. All I wanted were pajamas and my bed and Theo. And not to be standing.
My feet were swollen and smooth, the bones in the top buried somewhere under my skin. I wanted my flats off. Maybe Theo would massage them. I liked when he massaged them very much.
Smiling, I entered the house. Sarah had already retired to her room, and I scanned the room, walking lightly so as not to draw the attention of my mother. She’d follow me around talking for an hour, and after spending the last two hours extroverting with my friends, I was done.
I snuck up the stairs, ears perked for signs of her but found none. Theo wasn’t in the living room or kitchen like he usually was, and I frowned my disappointment.
I’d find him just as soon as I had on loungewear and my feet were free.
On my way to my bedroom, I paused, hearing the scoot of furniture in the baby’s room.
My frown deepened.
I pushed the cracked door open.
My mother was hinged at the waist, dragging the changing table across the hardwood floor. The rug had been rolled up and propped in the corner, the crib pushed against the wrong wall, and the armchair was facing the wrong direction, just out of the way of whatever path she had the changing table on.
“What are you doing?” I shot.
She jumped, giggling as she fell back on her ass in surprise. “Katie, you scared the life out of me.”
I scanned the bedlam. “What are you doing?” I asked again, trying to quiet the surge of irrational rage and violation.
“The energy in this room was all wrong, Katie-Bug. The chi was hitting walls and flying out the window, so I’m just putting everything where it belongs.”
I unceremoniously dropped my bag in the hall, rushing into the room. “It belongs where I put it,” I said, grabbing the changing table and throwing my weight behind it.
“But you don’t want to put the crib that close to the window, or her energy will get sucked right out.” She flung her hand from the top of her head toward said vortex window.
I pushed blindly at the stupid changing table, which was heavier than I remembered. Probably because Theo had moved it before.
His name climbed up my throat and stuck there. I swallowed it down with my inexplicable tears.
“Feng shui is not science, Mom.”
“Maybe not to you, but it is to me,” she said quietly as she stood. “I’m sorry, baby. I was just trying to help. Here, let me move it back.”
I shrugged her off. “I’ve got it.”
“Come on, Katie. Let me help,” she said with aching kindness that did nothing but fan the frantic flame in my heart.
My control was lost, gone in a bang and a flash.
“No!” I cried, hot tears stinging my eyes as I let the changing table go and turned on her. “You’re not helping, don’t you see? But of course you don’t see,” I reminded myself. “You can see the future in a deck of cards, but you can’t see how this would upset me. Do you know me at all? Do you understand me in any context? I want things the way I want them. Theo and I put these things where we wanted them, and you didn’t even ask. You didn’t ask a single question, just came in here and did. You had to know this would upset me, which makes you cruel. And if you didn’t, you’re just blind.”
Angry tears rolled down my cheeks, not only for my frustration, but with guilt. She looked so small, her face bent in sadness and regret, as her shoulders curled in on themselves. She was cowed and cowering, and the apology written all over her only made the whole thing worse.
I felt him before I saw him, his presence behind me drawing the attention of every nerve in my body. When I turned to him, his face was tight with concern, his eyes scanning the room, my mother, and then me.
“I…I’m so sorry,” Mom said, sniffling. “I wanted to surprise you, but I…you’re right. I should have known. I’ll put it all back just like it was,” she promised.
I couldn’t speak. All my energy was tied up in trying not to cry.
Theo’s hand was on my arm, pulling me into his side.
“It’s all right,” he said even though it wasn’t. Nothing was. “Just leave it where it is. I’ll put it all back.”
“No, it’s my mess. I’ll sort it out,” she insisted, stepping toward us to shoo us out. “Go on. I’ll make it right.”
He nodded, guiding me out of the room. I was trembling, my knees unsteady, my lungs locked, my thoughts spinning. I couldn’t understand why I was so upset, why I was hysterical over something so stupid as furniture. I felt unheard, misunderstood by the one person who was supposed to know me better than anyone.
But she never had heard me. She never did understand.
When we stepped into Theo’s room, I forgot my mother
instantly—what waited there shot my lungs open in a gasp.
The room was lit by glowing, golden light, filtered through the white sheets of a blanket fort. It was held in place by tethers stuck to the walls, the sheets draped in a feat of engineering, the interior strung with fairy lights. When I peered through the parted entrance, I found floor pillows and throw pillows and blankets laid out like a nest.
He kicked the bedroom door closed but didn’t stop walking, steering me around the bed, toward the tent.
“How…what…what is this?” I asked stupidly as he bent, ducking into the tent.
His hand reappeared from the entrance, seeking mine. “A blanket fort.”
I slipped my fingers into his palm. “Well, I can see that, but…why the hell did you make a blanket fort?”
When I climbed in, my eyes widened. It was dreamy and cozy, more like a room than a temporary play tent. The lights were so soft, the textures and feathery lightness of the pillows swallowing me up. He was sitting with his long legs stretched out, his torso propped on one elbow. The other hand pulled me down to him.
“Well,” he said, wrapping me in his arms, pulling me into his chest, “I ordered a pillow fort kit for the baby and was testing it out. I wanted to make sure I knew how to do it and that all the pieces were included. And that it was as epic as I imagined.”
I looked up at the little lights, noticing a string of dangling pom-poms in a rainbow of colors wound through the lights. “You did this for the baby?”
“Mmhmm.”
“But why? It’ll be a year before she can enjoy it.”
“Because I’ve decided I’m going to be the best dad ever, and who could earn that title without making a five-star blanket fort?”
I laughed, the sound muted through my stuffy nose. My tears hadn’t ceased, they just weren’t angry anymore. My throat closed up.
“It’s perfect,” I said quietly.
He held me to him, his hand shifting up and down my back through a silent moment.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m irrational and emotional, and I was just cruel to my mother.”
I could hear him smiling when he said, “You’re pregnant, and your mom just overstepped. I can’t imagine anyone would be rational and devoid of emotion. Especially with you and your mom.”
“But that’s the thing. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She was only trying to help, and I was s-so mean to her. I don’t want to be mean. I don’t want to feel any of this,” I blubbered, the words dissolving.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Don’t do that, Kate.” The words were so tender, so gentle, that they only made me cry harder. “I mean it. I have never seen two people so different with the same genetic code.”
“You and Tommy are nothing alike,” I countered.
“Other than our looks, no we aren’t, and you know it,” he said on a laugh. “But we’ve got nothing on you and Sparrow.”
I groaned, burrowing into his chest.
“Know what I think?” he asked.
“What?”
“She makes you feel out of control, and right now? Well, you’re already there. She just cranks up the pressure cooker, and you blew. It was bound to happen. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long. Last night, when she pulled out her crystals at dinner and started telling my mom how they could help cure her Parkinson’s, I thought that was it. I was ready to grab you by the waist and haul you out of the room if you climbed over the dinner table to throttle her.”
Another laugh against the ache in my chest.
“She doesn’t mean to hurt you. Not that she couldn’t try a little harder or maybe pull her head out of her ass long enough to realize how you feel. But she doesn’t mean to upset you. You know that, right?”
I sighed. “I do know.” I moved to push myself up. “I need to go say I’m sorry.”
But he squeezed me tighter, holding me to him. “Shh, just stay here for a minute.” When I was settled back into his chest, he said, “Don’t beat yourself up. The construct of her universe is founded in things you don’t believe in. And your world view is based in the exact opposite—fact, not faith.”
The ache warmed. “We were talking about that tonight,” I said into his chest, closing my eyes, sinking into him.
“About what?”
“Compatibility. About finding someone who subscribes to the same dreams and constructs as you do. It’s why Tommy and I would never work, but you and I are in perfect sync.”
“While we’re on the topic, I’d like to note for the record that I’d like to take a pair of scissors to your Team Tommy shirt and throw it in the garbage.”
I leaned back, smirking at him. “You aren’t jealous, are you?”
He slipped his thigh between mine, his hand finding my belly. “This is mine. You are mine. The last thing I want is another man’s name on your body. Especially not my fucking brother’s.”
I chuckled, cupping his jaw, marveling over the flickering desire and possession in his voice, in his words. I should have been offended—I was no one’s but my own. But I wasn’t offended at all. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to own me with the respect and care he’d always shown me.
I wanted to be his, and I wanted him to be mine.
There under the fairy lights, in the blanket fort he’d made for our unborn child, I felt peace and safety I’d never known before. I hadn’t even known it was possible.
And I didn’t want it to end. Not ever. I wanted to live in that moment forever and ever, safe and secure there in his arms where no one could touch me.
“I wish it could be like this forever,” I said softly, breathing the words, giving them life. Forever was what I wanted, and I wanted it with him. Just like this.
“It can,” he said. “It will, Kate. I promise you that.”
And he sealed the promise with a kiss.
21
Forever and Ever, Amen.
Theo
22 weeks, 6 days
Forever.
She’d said the word last night in the tent. And I’d promised her I’d make it so.
I stood with my palms on the glass top of the case, surrounded by twinkling diamonds. I’d worried when I walked into the jeweler’s that I wouldn’t be able to find one she’d like. That somehow, as well as I thought I knew her, I wouldn’t be able to find a ring that would suit her. It had to be exactly right—not too big, not too flashy. Nothing that would be heavy or catch on things, but nothing too simple either. It had to embody her, the mix of direct simplicity and beautiful complexity of Kate herself.
I’d circled the room, hands in my pockets, peering into the cases, systematically rejecting each one.
And then I saw it.
Delicate, simple, the band of gold set with a marquise diamond that was small enough to be dainty but large enough to shine with all the brilliance I found in her. The wedding band was actually two pieces, pointed in the centers to frame the diamond, the bands lined with tiny diamonds of their own.
Three pieces. Three of us. Me, Katherine, and our baby.
For weeks, I’d considered this, weighed out this next step, the big step. I’d played it out in five steps, calculated the outcomes with precision. I’d give her the ring. Ask her the question.
If she said yes, well, that one was easy.
If she said no? Things would get complicated.
We’d never even discussed marriage, not really, and we hadn’t said the word love aloud. But I knew her, even by her own admission. I knew she loved me. And that would be enough for me.
But it didn’t hurt to ask.
As long as she loved me, I could take no for an answer. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to.
She’d noted once that I knew what she needed before she needed it, and this was just another case in point. We were a match, and I didn’t believe there was a single thing life threw at us that we couldn’t handle. If we’d survived all w
e’d been handed so far, we could survive anything. I’d happily spend the rest of my days making sure she was happy. Because my reward was her. It was my family. It was my child and our future.
Katherine had asked me for forever, and that was something I could provide.
Something I’d do anything to provide.
And all I had to do was ask.
❖
Katherine
I trotted down the stairs with a smile on my face, looking for my mother.
Theo had left me that morning, sated and calm and more peaceful than I’d been in what felt like forever. Honestly, it might have been ever.
We were on the same page, exactly and perfectly. Forever was here. We had arrived.
And the peace and comfort that knowledge gave me was beyond measure.
By the time I’d come out of Theo’s room last night, looking for my mom, she had retreated to her room, the baby’s room put back exactly as it had been, exactly as promised. My guilt had plagued me to nearly knocking on her door—a boundary I was typically hard-pressed to breach—but I’d caught myself, heading back to my bedroom where Theo waited for me, shirtless and reading a book about the Roman conquest of Egypt.
This morning, I was glad for the time, thankful for the reset of sleep. For the first time in a long time, I felt like everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.
It was hope, alive and thrumming in my heart.
“Mom?” I called, rounding the corner into the living room.
But she was nowhere in the common space. Around another corner and to her room I went, pausing outside her door. Fleetwood Mac played softly in the room, the scent of incense drifting under the door and into the hallway.
I took a breath and knocked.
“Come in,” she called through the door, and after smoothing my skirt, I reached for the doorknob and did just that.
She sat on her bed, looking forlorn, her Mucha tarot deck in hand and cards laid out on her comforter. She offered a small smile.
“Hey, Katie,” she said softly.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered, closing the door behind me. I moved to the bed, sitting on the very edge so as not to disturb her cards.