by Amelia Mae
Jane and Dylan are in the middle of a conversation with Jack and Nikki about something or other. It’s strange seeing my stepbrother with a girlfriend. A live-in girlfriend no less. Especially someone he’s been friends with for years.
And I’m glad to see Dylan hanging around with the rest of us more often. He’s generally one to go off on his own, but since getting together with Jane, he’s been more present. Maybe he’s finally embracing this idea that the band should be a family. Or maybe it’s that he’s finally realized that he’s stuck with us no matter what.
From the other side of the patio, I see Ian helping Cora up from her lounge chair. She’s very, very pregnant, and I’m sure she’s looking to get out of her dress and into bed. I know her pregnancy hasn’t been easy, so I’m happy that she’s here for us today.
“Heading out?” I ask Ian as they walk by.
He nods. “Congratulations, you guys.”
He gives me a hug. Aya is hugging Cora hard and patting her baby bump.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushes. “You’re the best ever.”
“You’re the best ever,” Cora replies. “Congratulations. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Aya replies.
“Just… no more weddings till after the baby comes,” she says. “Please. My poor feet are too big for heels.”
Aya laughs.
“I think we’re officially wedding-ed out,” I assure Cora, kissing her cheek. Aya gives Ian a quick hug and we watch the two of them head back to their room. Aya sighs, her eyes still on Cora.
I think I know what she’s thinking.
“Do you like the name Olivia?” she asks.
“It’s okay.”
“Maybe Laura?” she offers.
“What makes you so sure we’d have a girl?” I ask. “Also… you’re not even pregnant yet.”
“I know. I’m just preparing for… a year from now? Two?”
“Now?” I offer.
“What?”
“I mean, I’m not saying we have to rush into anything, Aya,” I assure her. “But I’m ready whenever you’re ready.”
Aya’s face softens and she kisses my cheek. She stands, pulling me up with her.
“Can we ditch this party yet?” I tease.
Ten
Aya
Shawn and I saw a quick goodbye to the others and head back to our room.
I close the door behind us and in a split-second, I’m pressed against it, Shawn’s body against mine and his hands on my waist.
“You looked so pretty tonight, Aya,” he says before leaning in to kiss me.
I want to tell him that he looked amazing too. Handsome. Hot. Whatever. But it doesn’t look like I’ll be coming up for air any time soon. He kisses me until I’m breathless and dizzy. His lips are soft, and his kiss is intense, but still sweet. He’s not trying to ravage me. He’s going slowly.
He undoes my zipper and my dress slips off my body, pooling at my feet.
I look around the room at the dozen or so pink dresses that I didn’t choose.
“What are we going to do with all of them?” I ask, giggling.
“Not sure,” he answers. “Probably donate them. I can’t say I’m really worried about that right now.”
He unhooks my strapless bra and rolls my nipples between his fingers. I unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders.
“It’ll be pretty hilarious,” I joke. “Rolling up to a donation place with, like, a million pink wedding dresses. The people taking the donations would be like… what the hell?”
Shawn tenderly strokes the side of my face.
“Are you nervous?” he asks.
“Huh? Why would I be nervous?”
“I don’t know. But you’re kind of babbling,” he points out. “And you do that when you’re nervous.”
My hands are shaking. I didn’t notice till right now.
“Maybe a little,” I confess.
Shawn pulls me closer, and I rest my head against his strong chest. He wraps his arms around me.
“I guess I just feel like things have changed,” I admit.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Or, well… they’re about to.” I look up into his eyes. “We’re married now. Like… really married.”
“I know,” he jokes. “I was there.”
I laugh against him. “This is forever.”
“Don’t tell me you’re having some kind of buyer’s remorse.”
“Oh my God. No. Never,” I hold him tighter, so he knows I’m not kidding. “I love you. I just… We got married today. And we could be parents soon…”
“It’s a lot,” he agrees.
“Yeah. I guess I just… feel different.”
“Bad different?” he asks, looking genuinely worried.
“No. I’m just scared,” I tell him, hoping that I’m saying this right. “I thought I wanted to feel different, but I’m worried that we’ll lose what made us… you know, us. I’m worried that we’ll lose that fun, free, easy thing we had.”
Shawn leads me over towards the bed. He sits, leaning his back against the headboard and pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him. We’re chest to chest, face to face, and I love feeling this close to him.
“Things are going to change, Aya,” he says. “Life is nothing but change.”
“I know.”
“And, I mean, in some ways we’ve already changed.”
I nod. “That’s true.”
“But, whatever happens, whoever we bring into our lives, I’m always going to love you,” he says softly.
He presses his lips to mine for a quick kiss.
“I do like the name Laura,” he says. “Laura Park-Kinney.”
“What makes you so sure we’d have a girl?” I tease.
“I don’t know.”
“We should probably pick out a boy’s name just in case.”
“Hmm…. How about Paul? John? George?”
“Ringo?” I ask, giggling. “Now you’re just naming Beatles.”
He kisses me again and I feel better. I sink into him, grinding against his hardening cock, wishing he’d taken his pants off before getting on the bed.
“We’ll think of something,” he murmurs.
He rolls me to my back and trails kisses down my neck.
“Shawn,” I whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
I pull his face back to mine and kiss him.
“Please. I need you like this,” I husk out.
He nods, understanding and makes quick work of losing his pants and boxers. He slides my panties down my legs and throws them to the floor. He slips a finger inside me, then another, and scissors them back and forth.
“How’s that feel?” he asks.
I make a little throaty noise. “It’s good,” I seethe. “But I need more. I need all of you, Shawn. Please.”
He hovers his face over mine.
“Anything, Aya,” he assures me. “Anything you want.”
He presses his body against mine and kisses me slowly, but thoroughly, his tongue massaging mine and exploring my mouth. He pulls back and I gasp for air.
“Please. I need you, Shawn,” I repeat.
He lines himself up with my entrance and pushes in, inch by inch. I feel myself stretch around him.
“Ugh,” I grunt out. “More.”
“Greedy, aren’t you,” he teases, finally fully inside me. “I guess now that we’re married I’ll have to go above and beyond to impress you.”
I tighten my legs around him and try to pull him down to kiss me, but he’s not done taunting me yet. I groan.
“I’ll have to up my game so you don’t get bored with me,” he chuckles.
“Come on,” I whine. “You know I need you and you just want to fuck with me.”
Shawn snaps his hips and hits just the right spot inside me to send my eyes rolling back.
“Shawn,” I grunt.
“More?”
“Yes. More.”
Shawn takes both of my hands in one of his and pins my wrists over my head. His eyes bore into mine, and he smirks, knowing I’m totally at his mercy. I wriggle underneath him, totally submissive, but loving every second of it.
He thrusts into me, and I try to move underneath him, but it’s hard. He’s a lot bigger than I am. He picks up speed.
“Look at you…” he voice trails off.
He’s probably thinking of something teasing to say, but lost track of his words. His eyes glaze over and his control starts to slip. I clench around his cock.
“Christ, Aya,” he hisses. “Don’t. I’m too close.”
“Ugh, I’m close too. Come for me, Shawn.”
I wrap my legs around him and tighten again. Shawn loses the battle and comes, pulsing inside me. It sends me right over the edge too, and I feel myself succumb to my orgasm, crying out his name.
When I come to, I feel Shawn pressing wet, messy kisses to my cheek. Then my neck. Then the little notch at the base of my throat. I let out a low moan when he hits that spot and he laughs.
I cup his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine for a sleepy, stupidly happy kiss. He pulls out of me and flops over onto his back.
“What do you think?” he asks. “Good enough to for a baby?”
“Maybe. Or maybe we’d better keep practicing.”
“I like all the practicing,” he whispers, pulling into position to spoon. “We’ll get it right eventually.”
I snuggle up against him, silently agreeing.
As I fall asleep in Shawn’s arms, I hear him murmur, “I love you,” against the back of my neck.
“Love you, too.”
Epilogue
Shawn
“Are we there yet?” Aya asks.
“About half an hour.”
“I’m just saying that she’s been quiet the whole time and odds are that we’re in for screaming and crying and diaper explosion really soon. And I’d rather get it over with before we see your mom,” she reasons.
I nod.
I look back at baby Laura in the mirror, sleeping away quietly.
“I think we should just be grateful for right now,” I whisper. “Instead of worrying about what could happen in an hour.”
Aya rolls her eyes, hearing me repeat the words she’s been saying this entire car ride. “Point taken.”
Yet another car passes us.
“You know, you can drive at a normal speed, Shawn,” she taunts.
“I know,” I reply. But ever since baby Laura came along, I’ve been driving more cautiously. I’ve been doing a lot of things more carefully. I’m even taking multivitamins in some half-assed attempt at being around longer for her.
It doesn’t help that I’m going to see my mom in person for the first time since that afternoon. She says that she’s still sober, but she’s still not comfortable coming down to Los Angeles to visit. So Aya, Laura, and I are taking the three hour car ride up to see her.
My mother has been more of a presence in my life. She calls more and I actually answer. And she sends emails from time to time.
I know that it’ll be years until she and I have a real relationship. Like, one where I can call and ask her to watch Laura. Or one where I can invite her for Christmas. But, for now, I guess it’s enough.
When we arrive at Donna’s mobile home, she hugs me and Aya, but her attention is immediately right on baby Laura.
“Oh my God,” Donna coos. “You’re about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Laura scrunches up her face, a big wail-fest coming on.
“Sorry,” Aya says. “She probably needs a new diaper.”
“I’ll do it,” Donna says.
“Really?” I ask.
“Shawn, I may not remember a lot of things, but I remember how to change a diaper,” Donna says, gathering the baby bag and heading into the bedroom. “Make yourselves at home. I just put on some tea.”
My gut says to follow her and make sure she doesn’t drop Laura or something terrible like that. But I don’t.
Aya takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. There’s a tea kettle on and three mugs set out. My mother’s million different boxes of tea are lined up on the shelf.
“She’ll be fine,” she says.
“I know.”
After visiting with my mom for a few hours, we head back to the lodge. The same one that we had our little wedding at. We’ve begun referring to the church wedding as the ‘big wedding’ and the one on the lake as the ‘little wedding.’ Or the ‘real’ wedding.
Laura is once again sleeping in her tiny travel crib.
It’s relatively early in the evening, but we’re both tired. Aya returns from the bathroom wearing pink panties and one of my tee shirts. It makes me smile.
“What?” she asks.
“You look good like that.”
“Like a ragamuffin who hasn’t slept in a week?”
She doesn’t look raggedy or anything. Not to me.
I strip down to my boxers and hold open the covers for her. Aya slips into bed beside me.
“Wait, I almost forgot this,” I tell her, getting up so fast that I startle both of us. “My mom gave this to me. I wanted to show you.”
I go through the bag I’d been carrying earlier and find a small framed photo. It’s of me when I was about three being held by a much younger Donna. She looked so happy.
I show it to Aya and she gasps.
“You and Laura have the same smile,” she says.
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. Wow, it’s incredible.”
Aya stares at the picture, but my eyes are on her. Then Laura.
They’re my whole world.
A tear wells in the corner of my eye, and I kiss Aya’s temple before I let it fall and start crying like a baby. I want to tell Aya that I love her but the words just won’t come out. Not right now. This feeling… the overwhelming gratitude for my beautiful wife and our baby daughter is more than I can take.
Aya puts the picture on the nightstand.
“I know, sometimes, I just look at her and…” Aya’s voice trails off and she tears up.
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her tears away.
“I love you so much,” I tell her, totally choked up. “More than I know how to say."
“I love you too, Shawn. I’ll love you forever.”
Part Two
Ian and Cora
Eleven
Ian
For better or worse, there are some moments you remember for the rest of your life.
I vividly remember the day that my mother brought my little sister Nikki home from the hospital. I asked if we could exchange her for a boy.
I remember the day my father left us and how my mother cried her eyes out for weeks before swearing off men forever.
I remember the day that my mom and Aunt Mary were killed by a drunk driver and how Nikki clung to my hand at the funeral. I remember the months afterward where I existed, half-alive, and became a hollow shell of myself.
And I remember the day that it all ended. The day Cora Dwyer’s headshot fell into my lap and we hired her for the music video. Because that was the day that the universe gave me the one thing that I couldn’t resist and told me to start living again.
And since then, there have been so many other moments seared into my memory that you couldn’t pay me enough money to give them up. There was Cora’s and my first kiss. The first time we slept together. The day I proposed to her. The day that we got married.
And most recently, the day that Cora told me that I was going to be a father.
I took my wife in my arms and held her close, tears in my eyes. I couldn’t believe it.
“Oh my God,” Cora whines, “It’s hot as balls in here.”
She flops down on the bed in our room as I fiddle with the air conditioner. Pretty soon, the room has cooled off and, thankfully, so has Cora.
“Thank you,” she mutters.
“No problem.”
“I’ll help you unpack in just a minute,” she says. “It’s just so hard to move right now.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Cora has been having a rough pregnancy. Loads of morning sickness, swelling, and back aches. She’s always uncomfortable.
And I’ve been trying to make things easy for her, but sometimes I’m afraid I’m just making it worse. I open her suitcase and one of the dresser drawers and start putting away clothes.
“Stop,” she says softly. “Come over here.”
I sit on the foot of the bed next to her.
“Lie down with me,” she whispers.
I kick off my shoes and lie down on top of the plush comforter next to my wife. At about seven and a half months pregnant, she’s got a sizable belly. I know she’s heavier than she’s comfortable being.
I want to tell her that she’s beautiful. Because she is. But she won’t believe me, so I keep my mouth shut.
I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips.
“Thanks,” she whispers again.
“For what?”
“For… just…” She tears up before she can say anything else.
Cora’s been achy and moody, and I’ve been acting as her metaphorical punching bag. But I know she’s doing the hard part here. If this is tiring and draining for me, it’s got to be twenty times worse for her.
So, I’ll shut up and take it.
Because there have also been plenty of sweet, perfect moments like this one that make up for the less than perfect ones.
Cora lets out a painful grunt. I think she’d trying to turn over onto her side. I help her adjust until she’s comfortable. Finally, she’s where she wants to be, facing me.
“This,” she says, breathing heavy from the exertion. “If I ever tell you I want another baby, remind me of this moment.”
I laugh and reach out to massage her belly.
“I’m not kidding, Ian,” she says, looking severely exhausted. “I don’t think I can do this again.”