by Ellie Wade
“It’s perfect.”
She holds her hand out in front of her, swaying it back and forth, allowing the light to catch the diamond. The ring I had designed looks completely stunning on her finger, as if it was always meant to be there. The two carat oval cushion cut diamond sits atop a rose gold halo band. It’s unique, classic, beautiful, and one of a kind—just like my Peaches.
“I can’t believe we’re getting married. How did I get so lucky?”
“I could ask the same thing.”
“Do you ever wish that we hadn’t had that misunderstanding in high school? Maybe we could’ve gotten together sooner. I could’ve gone to college in Ann Arbor, like London did. We could’ve been together all this time.”
I shake my head. “It wouldn’t have worked like that. I think we needed to be apart, so we could grow together. We had to discover who we were and what we wanted in life. So that when we saw each other again, we’d know without a shadow of a doubt that this was the life we wanted together.”
Georgia nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I can’t imagine a life more wonderful than ours. I can’t believe this is all real.” Her stare leaves me to look down at her ring.
“It’s real, and it’s forever. I hope you’re ready,” I tell her, running my hands up and down her waist.
She bites her bottom lip and inhales through her nose. Her gaze holds mine. “I’ve been running my whole life, desperately seeking some unknown that was always just out of my reach. All this time, I was running to you.” She shakes her head, and tears slide down her rosy cheeks. “I never knew it was you that I needed. It was always you, Wyatt.” She brings her hand up to my face, and her palm cups my cheek.
I cover her hand with mine, holding her grasp against my face. “I’ve always been waiting for you to find me. It’s always been you, Peaches.”
I lay my lips against hers and smile. The outlying fragments of my heart, shattered when I was young, come together, and I’m finally whole. Georgia tamed my broken heart with her love, and I’ll spend the rest of my life loving her with everything I have.
EPILOGUE
Three Years Later
“Fairy tales are real. I live in one every single day.”
—Georgia Gates
I set the Minnie Mouse cake down next to the Lightning McQueen cake and smile at the cuteness. Disney is single-handedly responsible for my children’s current obsessions. I know every word to all of the Cars movies and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episodes. When one is the parent of a two- and one-year-old, one learns quickly that Disney saves lives—or at least Mommy’s sanity.
Our first little miracle came less than a year after our wedding. We named him Asher, which means fortunate or blessing. We tossed around the idea of naming him after a place like my parents did with London and me, but it didn’t feel right. I’ve been all over the world and never felt at home anywhere until Wyatt. For me, it’s the people who make a place a home, not a spot on a map. Asher’s unofficial name is Asher Wyatt Stanley Cooper Gates, his three middle names after three souls who played a part in this amazing life in which I now live.
I think back to Stanley, the homeless man I met as a child who changed my views on the world. He was a chance meeting that altered the course of my life from what was expected to what was right. Meeting him made me think about everything—what I wanted to be and what I didn’t. Our encounter started me on the search for more, which ultimately led me to Wyatt.
The four-legged Stanley that accompanied Mark, the homeless man I met while I was running when I first moved in with Paige, played an essential role in my happily ever after as well. For he and Mark directed me to Cooper’s Place and Wyatt.
Then, there’s Cooper, my first furbaby, who Wyatt says saved his life. I never knew I could love an animal so much until I met Cooper. He’s an amazing breed ambassador, showing everyone what a pit bull is. He loves every creature he comes across, both two- and four-legged alike. He’s seen the worst that humans have to offer, and he loves us just the same. He is the inspiration for Cooper’s Place, which, once again, brought me to Wyatt.
After baby Asher was born, Wyatt convinced me that three middle names was a bit excessive and persuaded me to choose one. Truthfully, it wasn’t hard to narrow it down because, as important as both Stanley and Cooper were to my life, Wyatt’s my miracle. He’s the soul mate I didn’t believe existed, the love of my life. He’s my home.
So, our little love—Asher Wyatt—carries his father’s name, and it’s perfect. He’s a two-year-old, rough and tumble, little miniature of his father. My heart opened more than I had known possible the day Asher was born. The love I have for Wyatt is all-encompassing, but the love I have for Asher is indescribable. There really are no words to portray a mother’s love for her children. It’s an astonishing gift that I’ll forever be grateful for.
Then, almost a year to the date later, our baby girl came. It’s clear now that when people say that one can’t get pregnant while nursing, they are in fact lying. Having two babies so close has been a lot of work, but I wouldn’t change a thing. We named our girl Mirielle Ethel Gates. Mirielle is a French name meaning miraculous, which she is. Anyone in Michigan that sees it written automatically mispronounces it. The French pronunciation is Meer-ay, which has turned into Ray-Ray, her ever-so-fitting nickname. Ray-Ray is a little blonde spitfire. Besides her beautiful, doe blue eyes, which are all her father, she’s my mini me. She’s loud, bossy, and full of attitude in the most adorable way ever. She’s only one, but I can tell that she’s going to change the world someday. It’s written all over her soul.
Wyatt comes up behind me and places his hands against my round belly. I lean back into his chest, a content sigh leaving my lips.
He kisses my neck. “Cakes look good, babe.”
“They’re cute, aren’t they?”
“Very.”
“How’s Happy treating Mommy today?” he asks of the baby growing inside my belly, which we’re currently calling Happy.
Wyatt and I decided after Ray-Ray that we were satisfied with being a family of four. Fast-forward to six months later when I was in Target, buying a shirt with a quote from the late Bob Ross that said, There are no mistakes, just happy accidents, I got the urge to buy a pregnancy test, as I was feeling off. I presented the positive pregnancy test, wrapped in the T-shirt, to Wyatt that night. Baby number three has been lovingly referred to as Happy since then, though I’ve told Wyatt the name is temporary. I have no qualms about naming my child after a dog, but I draw the line at the seven dwarfs.
“Good,” I sigh with a grin.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers against my neck between kisses, causing goose bumps to erupt over my entire body.
“Yeah, right. I’m fat,” I tease because, truthfully, I do feel beautiful in spite of my huge belly. I love being pregnant. I feel so fortunate that my body will carry a little life inside it until he or she is ready to come into the world. The fact is, all babies are miracles, and we’re not sure what we’re going to name Happy, but I’d guess the name will mean miracle.
“Isn’t it weird that I’ve had a belly the majority of the time that we’ve been together?” I ask with a chuckle.
Wyatt turns me around so that I’m facing him and kisses me on the lips. “If by weird, you mean fucking sexy, then yes.”
His eyes darken as he scans my body because he’s serious when he says that my pregnant body turns him on. We’ve had the hottest sex with this big ball protruding from my middle.
With my arms wrapped around his neck, my thumb traces the short hair at the base of his neck. “You going to show me how sexy you find me tonight?” I ask coyly, my lips against his.
Wyatt growls and captures my mouth, kissing me like only he can. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait.” His voice is husky with need.
Suddenly, Wyatt’s face morphs from need-filled to uncomfortable as he winces. I look down to find Asher smashing a Lightning McQueen matchbox car against Wyatt
’s pants, specifically his groin area.
“Keen, Dada! Keen, Dada!” Asher whines.
Wyatt bends and picks him up. “You have McQueen in your hand,” Wyatt says sweetly.
“Keen! Dada!” Asher repeats.
“Which McQueen do you want, baby? The blue one? The big one?” I start listing off the different versions of Lightning McQueen that Asher possesses.
He doesn’t seem to know what he wants.
“Hey, birthday boy.” I press my finger against his nose. “Daddy will help you find the car you want, okay? But do you want to see your cake first?”
Asher’s eyes widen at the mention of cake, and his car drama is forgotten for the moment.
“Look.” Wyatt shows him the cake that’s set up on the outside table.
“Keen!” Asher points to the cake, a huge smile on his face.
“Just for you, buddy,” Wyatt tells him.
“A McQueen birthday cake for you.” I lean in and kiss his cheek. “How old are you today?”
Asher raises three fingers because he hasn’t quite mastered bending his ring finger down yet and yells, “Two!”
“Good job. You are two! You’re a big boy,” I tell him.
“Way-Way,” Asher says and points to the Minnie Mouse cake. He also hasn’t mastered his R sounds yet.
“Yes, that’s Ray-Ray’s cake.”
“Way-Way baby,” he says knowingly.
“Yeah, Ray’s still a baby. She’s one now.”
“My two,” Asher says.
I giggle. “You are two.” I look to Wyatt. “By the way, where’s Ray? I want to show her the cake.”
A smirk finds Wyatt’s lips as he holds in a laugh. “Last time I saw her, she was running, bare-bottomed, away from your mother. You’d think your mom has never changed a diaper.”
I laugh at the vision of my mother chasing a half-naked Ray around the house. “Well, she did have nannies with London and me, but she has to know how to change a diaper, right?” I scrunch up my nose.
“One would think, but I didn’t step in, thinking she could figure it out.” Wyatt grins.
“You’re so mean.” I chuckle, lightly hitting his chest. “You know Ray’s giving her a run for her money.”
“That’s our girl”—he nods—“determined like her mama.”
“Okay, well, I’ll go rescue my mom. Can you take him to his room, to his toy chest, and figure out what car he’s talking about? The guests should be arriving soon.”
Just then, Mila and Cooper come ambling out of the house, and Asher points. “Miya! Coop!”
“You want to play with the puppies?” Wyatt asks as Asher struggles to climb down his body. “I guess the car is forgotten.” Wyatt chuckles as he walks over to Cooper, who stands patiently as Asher hugs his neck.
I watch for a moment as my boys throw tennis balls for Cooper and Mila. Asher giggles every time he pulls the slobbery ball from one of the dogs’ mouths. At twelve, Cooper’s definitely a senior dog now, but it doesn’t show besides the extra white fur on his snout. He’s still as active as he ever was, for which I’m thankful. I pray that he breaks records for the amount of time a dog lives. Pit bull breeds usually live to fourteen or fifteen, but we have a friend whose rescue dog lived to nineteen. So, I’m hoping for at least seven more healthy years for Cooper.
I make my way inside to find my mom holding Ray, looking more than a little exhausted. “You okay, Mom?”
“Oh, yeah, we’re fine.” She lets out a tired breath.
Ray-Ray holds her arms out to me, and I take her, setting her on my hip. “Are you being good for Mimi?”
“She’s a doll. She’s just like you were at that age,” my mom says. “Just perfect.”
“I’m so glad you and Dad could make it up,” I tell her. “Where is Dad?”
She waves her hand. “He’s on a business call. You know how it is.”
For the first time, I see a hint of sadness in her expression. My mom has always gushed over how hard my dad works. She’s never complained about the lack of time she spends with him. I suppose it was their example that led me to question soul mates in the first place because I couldn’t fathom loving someone the way that I love Wyatt and spending so much time apart. It’s never seemed to bother my parents though, but now, I’m wondering if it upsets my mother more than she lets on.
“Where are you headed after this again?”
“Somewhere in Arizona. I can’t even keep track half of the time.” She chuckles.
“Well, Mom, you know you’re always welcome to stay here for a while if you want to visit longer.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I tell her honestly. Placing my hand to my belly, I say, “I could use your help around here.”
“I’ll talk to your father about it.” Her expression softens as she smiles.
“Now, I don’t have a housekeeper, a nanny, or a cook,” I warn her, quirking up an eyebrow.
She shakes her head with a sheepish grin. “What must you think of me?”
“I don’t judge you, Mom. I just want you to be happy. Also, London and Loïc’s new house is very close as well. I’m sure London would love for you to spend more time with Lindi, too.”
“What about me?” London walks in with her two-year-old daughter, Lindi, on her hip.
“Hey!” I give her and Lindi a hug. “Mom’s thinking about staying a little bit. I told her she could spend some time here and with you.”
“I’d love that, Mom,” London says excitedly.
Guests start arriving, and the almost-serene ambiance of the morning preparations are replaced by loud laughter, lots of people, and a handful of dogs playing in our large, fenced-in yard. As much as a quiet morning is needed, an obnoxiously loud afternoon feeds the spirit, and I love it.
Ethel and Luciana are finishing the buffet setup, and I can’t help but laugh as Ray-Ray tugs at Ethel’s leg, chanting, “Nana!”
There are few people that our little girl loves more than her Nana Ethel.
All of our friends from Cooper’s Place are here, including past and present employees. Paige and her husband are chatting with Wyatt’s friend Carrie and her man under the colorful maple tree. I was hoping we’d get a perfect fall day for the party, and we did.
I grin wide when I see my dad in his three-piece suit, sitting on the porch swing with Gus-Gus, one of our newer elderly and toothless employees. The two of them are the polar opposites of each other, and yet they’re rooted in conversation. It makes my heart swell with glee, seeing all of the people that I love here to celebrate our two little miracles.
I catch London glance at my hand, which is absentmindedly rubbing my large belly, and my heart hurts for my sister. She just finished her third round of in vitro fertilization with no luck. It’s not fair how I can get pregnant so easily, and she can’t.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
She angles her head, and the sides of her lips tilt up. “Don’t be.” She places a hand on my arm. “I am so happy for you and Wyatt. I’m okay.” Her stare finds her husband, Loïc, who is in the yard, playing with their daughter, and her smile widens. “We’re okay. If we’re only meant to have Lindi, then that’s more than enough. Or we can adopt again. It will all work out.”
“So, just one more round?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yep, we’re going to try in vitro one more time and call it good, no matter the outcome. I want more than anything to feel what it’s like to carry my own baby, but I can’t keep doing this.”
“Yeah,” I tell her as if I understand, but honestly, I have no idea what it’s been like for her.
I pray that this last round works for her. London deserves to have a baby. She’s a fantastic mom.
“You know, my offer still stands,” I tell her. “It would be an honor to be a surrogate for you. I’m serious. I’d love to help you, if I can.”
She leans her head to the side and rests it on my shoulder. “I know,” she says softly. “And I love you
for it. We’ll decide what’s next after this last round. Who knows? Maybe the fourth time will work?” She raises her head and pulls in a steady breath. “So, you’re really not finding out with this one?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Our last is going to be a surprise. We have our girl and our boy. This baby is our bonus baby, and we don’t care what it is. We just want Happy to be healthy.”
“I get that you’ll be pleased either way regardless if it’s a boy or a girl, but how can you wait nine whole months to find out? That would drive me crazy.”
I chuckle. “It’s kind of fun, reading the old wives’ tales, trying to guess if it’s a boy or girl based on the heartbeat or position. It’s great.”
“If you say so.” She raises her eyebrows. “If I get pregnant someday, I’m finding out.”
“When you do, you should do one of those gender reveal parties. I’ll throw it for you. It will be awesome.” I grab her hand that rests between us and squeeze it, letting her know how much I want her dreams to come true.
“Will Lucy’s parents cater?” She puckers out her lips in question.
“Of course, the Rubio-Reyes are the official caterers of the Gates’ household.” I let out a chuckle.
“Thank God Wyatt hired someone who married someone whose parents own a Mexican restaurant,” she says dramatically.
“Right? How lucky did I get? Us Wright girls need tacos.”
“Agreed.” London nods her head.
“I’m so glad you moved back to Michigan,” I say to London as I wrap my arms around her.
There’s nothing better than living by my sister and raising our kids together. Asher and Lindi are best friends. I know, in a year or so, Ray-Ray is going to join them once she gains a little more language.
“Yeah, me, too. It just seemed right. Ann Arbor has a great VA Hospital where Loïc can work with veterans, and I can write from anywhere. We’ve never really had a home base with Mom and Dad constantly moving. I’m so glad the two of us are now settled and can raise our families together.”