by Leia Stone
I do as I'm told, trying to guess what it is she has to show me. What if it's a floral comforter for our bed? I make a face, and I'm glad she's in front of me and can't see it. How am I going to tell her I don't want a floral comforter without hurting her feelings? I’ve never lived with a girl, and I’m kind of freaking out she’ll want pink and flowers everywhere now.
Oh shit. What if this is our first big fight while living together? What if—?
Instead of going right into our bedroom, Autumn takes a left into an empty bedroom I have across the hall. My stress evaporates. She's probably making the room into an office for herself. That I can totally handle; she can floral the crap out of it for all I care.
I walk in and pause, trying to understand. Pieces of furniture are strewn around the middle of the room. In the corner by the window is a rocking chair. Beside it is a ridiculously huge stuffed hippo.
Hmm, not exactly the office décor I would imagine for her. I suck in a sharp intake of breath when my eyes land on one of the furniture boxes in the middle of the room.
It’s a crib.
"I was trying to finish the crib before you got home, but they are way harder to assemble than you'd think." Autumn bites the side of her lower lip and watches me like a hawk.
My brain trips over my jumbled thoughts. All the weight leaves my limbs and I'm floating, except I'm not because I'm still here, standing in this … nursery?
For a baby.
A baby.
Our baby?
The smile starts slow, somewhere down below my knees, then flies up, overtaking me like a flame to tinder. Head to toe, I'm beaming. "You're pregnant?"
She nods. Her teeth release her lip and she smiles the biggest smile I've ever seen on her face. Like me, her whole body is glowing.
"Holy shit. I'm going to be a dad." My hands run through my hair. "I'm going to be a dad!" I yell this time, for good measure. In my mind I see a small baseball mitt, a gentle toss, a smiling boy or girl in awe as they've just caught their first baseball.
Autumn's palms are pressed together in front of her mouth and her shoulders are quaking with joy. I lift her in my arms, spin her around, then quickly put her back down.
"I'm sorry, did that hurt? Are you okay?" My eyes fall to her belly, looking for any sign that I’ve harmed her or the baby.
She laughs and puts her hand on my shoulders. "I'm not made of glass, Owen. I'm just pregnant."
"Say it again."
"I'm pregnant."
I kiss her, hoping the action shows her just how damn much I love her. She kisses me back, the kind of kiss that asks for more, but the timer in the kitchen interrupts us.
I hold the door open for her, but just as Autumn is about to step from the room she stalls. Her mouth widens in shock and my first thought is that it's the baby.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my hand going to her flat stomach.
She shakes her head, smiling. "Everything is fine. It’s just … I've been waiting to feel my mom again. Her spirit, you know? I felt her when you proposed, but then not again. But I think…" She glances back into the room. "I think I just felt her." Tears line her eyes and goosebumps run the length of my arms.
"She's telling you she's happy for you. For us." Most people think that doctors don’t believe in God, that we are strictly scientific beings who can’t conceive of a higher power.
Not me.
I’ve been in operating rooms, losing a patient on the table, only to have them miraculously come back after all medical options failed. I’ve even had a few patients who were riddled with cancer go into spontaneous remission without any chemo at all. I have no doubt Faith is looking over us with happiness right now.
Autumn nods happily, and seeing her so well adjusted, and content—and pregnant—makes my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
That night, when dinner is finished and the sun has dipped below the horizon, we sit outside and stare up at the sky. I've pulled the outdoor couch to the middle of the yard and adjusted it so we can both lie down. I've got one arm wrapped around Autumn, and her head rests on my chest.
"Sometimes I think about what I'd be doing now if my mom had never called and asked me to come back here." She laughs dryly. "Probably the same exact thing I'd been doing for the past few years."
"Then I thank God your mom called you." I give her a small squeeze.
Autumn shifts, propping herself on an elbow and looking at me. "Do you think she knew?"
I'm confused. "Knew what?"
"Knew she was going to die? That this time would be the last time?"
"There's no way she could've known it for certain, but each repeated fight with cancer gets a little harder. She knew that, because I told her."
"I was so shocked the day she called me and asked me to come out here. I said yes immediately, without any hesitation. I knew it was going to require me to leave my job, my apartment, my life. And I knew it was going to land me squarely in your path."
I push a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't run screaming in the opposite direction."
She chuckles. "I think I always knew you were my eventuality. I just had to figure out how to move past everything that happened when we were young and find my way back to you."
"I know what you mean. I never could let you go either. I held on to it all, including the anger, until even that disappeared and all I had was an Autumn-sized hole in my heart. The moment I saw you in the kitchen at your mom's house, I wanted to grab you and kiss you until all your breath was mine."
"You can do that now." She lowers her face until the tips of our noses brush. "You can do that all you want."
"I can't take all your breath. The baby needs it," I remind her, lightly dragging my lips across hers.
Autumn laughs and it’s the best damn sound in the world. "She doesn't need all of it."
"She?"
Autumn grins. "Just a hunch."
I kiss her then, but I hold back a little. Autumn knows I'm holding back, so she takes over. She takes off her clothes, lies beneath me, and asks me to make love to her in the dark, with only the stars as witnesses.
Loving Autumn is something I've been doing since I was fifteen. It's engrained into my thoughts, burned into my soul. It's what I'll be doing every day for the rest of my life.
Chapter 30
Autumn
Nine months later
Oh, the pain. The pain, the pain, the pain.
Waves of pain, starting at the top of my stomach and rolling down—like the worst period cramp, multiplied by seven thousand.
"Drugs," I demand, slamming a fist on the bed. The soft blanket absorbs the force. Definitely not the effect I intended to have.
Owen gives me a look I think is meant to be soothing, but it just angers me. "The anesthesiologist is with another patient right now. She'll be here as soon as possible."
I look around wildly for something to throw at him. There is nothing within my reach, and that's probably something the hospital has done on purpose. I settle for shooting daggers with my eyes. “You went to medical school—can’t you do it?”
Owen smirks. “Not unless you want to be paralyzed.”
I frown. If I’m paralyzed, I won’t be able to feel pain, so maybe that would be okay.
The anesthesiologist sails into the room and I moan with relief. She gives me drugs and I tell her she's my favorite person in the world, which causes her to smile.
After that, the rough waters become smooth. I almost don't mind when Ace struts into the room with some chick traipsing along behind him. Almost.
"Who is that?" I ask rudely. I might be unable to feel the lower half of my body, but that doesn't mean I need someone I don't know witnessing me in this state.
Ace looks at the blonde in tow. "This is Felicia. My date."
I cross my arms. On a normal day, I like Ace. But this is not a normal day. I'm in labor. I do not need a crowd. When Owen asked if it was okay that Ace stop by after his shift in onc
ology was over, I said yes. I did not say okay to the blond girl who still hasn't spoken a word.
"Ace, are you planning on setting up a red and white checkered blanket on the floor in here? Maybe some wine and cheese?" I growl at him, glad to have a new target for my anger.
Owen snickers at my questions.
Ace's lips move like he's holding back laughter. "You're the one who's having a baby on the same night I have a date."
Oh, I’m going to kill him. I already regret asking him to be the baby’s godfather. I point to the door. "Just go."
The girl, whose lips I now believe to be sewn shut, blinks in surprise.
"Call me when the baby comes," Ace says to Owen. They shake hands, and even though I'm annoyed at Ace's single-man idiocy, I accept the gentle hug he offers.
He pats my huge belly. “Give her hell, kiddo.”
“Out!” I roar, and Ace laughs, shuffling back through the door with his date. I meet Owen's eyes.
"Bye, Felicia," we say at the same time, then I laugh until I nearly cry. Maybe it helps spur the baby into action, because pretty soon after that the doctor checks me and declares me ready to push.
An hour later, Hudson Michael Miller comes into the world and a euphoric feeling comes over me. The moment my eyes land on him, an explosion of love blooms in my chest and it’s like my heart has just grown a new compartment, this one made entirely for him. He is perfect, absolutely perfect, and I love him in a way I never knew possible.
When Hudson has been cleaned and checked by the doctor, he is given back to me. Owen hovers over us, alternating kisses between my forehead and the baby's. "We'll try for a girl next time," he says with a wink.
At my sixteen-week appointment, I'd spent all of ten seconds disappointed to hear my hunch had been wrong. Now, looking at the tiny face Owen and I created, I decide I don't care what gender is next in line for us. The longer I stare at Hudson, the more I think of the baby who never was.
"Are you thinking about it?" Owen asks, his voice low.
As hard as it is, I tear my gaze away from the baby who is here now. "Yes."
"Me too. And that's okay." Owen kisses my mouth, telling me he loves me, he loves us, he loves our story, as flawed as it may be.
It was a bumpy road filled with potholes and pitstops, but we got our happily ever after.
Epilogue
Autumn
Two years later
"Today, everyone, we have a very special guest for story time." I smile out to the small crowd of young children and their parents. Every Saturday morning, the back of the bookstore I co-own with Livvie transforms for story hour. We bring out chairs and trays of sliced apples and carrot sticks. And coffee for the parents. Can't forget the caffeine.
I bounce two-year-old Hudson on my hip. "Hudson's daddy is going to read to you!" I tell the small crowd. Hudson claps his hands and squeezes his chubby thighs in his excitement.
Owen joins me at the back of the room and kisses my temple as I step away, settling onto a chair. Hudson climbs off me and runs back to Owen, who scoops him up and sets him down on his lap.
"Okay, everyone, remember how we show Mr. Owen we're ready to listen?" I call out, looking at all the toddlers, preschoolers, and young children. I snap my fingers, and the older ones do too. The younger kids follow suit, practicing the skill.
Owen is our most popular reader, and the discovery of his hidden talent was a happy accident. A parent who was supposed to read had the flu, so Owen filled in. That was eight months ago, and Owen has been on the regular rotation ever since. He does all the voices, ranging in pitch from a high shrieking princes in a castle to a low growling dinosaur.
Things with the store couldn’t be better. Livvie is pregnant and enjoys running a financial advisor firm with her husband in Phoenix. She called me just yesterday to ask if I could give her little sister Luna a job. Apparently she married a German guy she met in Amsterdam after knowing him only a week. Then the second he got his green card, he split. Now she’s twenty-two, divorced, and looking for a fresh start. I know about those all too well, and told Livvie I’d be happy to help. She arrives in Sedona next week.
As I sit back, listening to Owen, I absentmindedly rub my growing stomach. It'll only be a few more months until we meet our baby girl. This time, my hunch was right.
Owen reads, and Hudson sits still, enraptured by the story and helping turn the pages. Funny how when I returned home three years ago, I checked the weather before boarding my plane and thought about how nice it would be to have a similar, personal radar to tell me what was in store for me.
Would I have believed the radar if I saw all this? Probably not.
I wish every day that my mom were here to be a grandma to my kids. That will never happen, and it's up to me to tell them all about her. How she was a fierce mama bear, how she raised me as a single mother, how she fought cancer three times like a warrior.
Our daughter Makenzie Faith Miller will know why she carries that middle name.
Owen closes the book when the story is done, catching my eye, and winks. I smile back at him.
This is the life we always wanted together, and even though it took us longer than we thought it would to get there, we made it, and that is what counts.
We found our way home to each other. Thank God for second chances.
The End
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THANK YOU!
A big thank you to our editor Lee, beta reader Megan and proofer Melissa. It takes a village to get these books in tip top shape, so thank you to our village! Special thanks to our ARC teams and amazing readers for letting our words occupy your heart. Biggest thank you of all to our families for being our biggest superfans.