Lula’s Epilogue
LULA’S EPILOGUE
My second wedding felt completely different than my first. With Jarred, we had obsessed over every little detail. Our minds were more focused on the event than on what the event signified.
With Exile, I didn’t care where we got married or what I wore. I only wanted to be surrounded by our people while I admitted my love for one particular man above all others.
In the autumn, when the trees were at their most burnished orange and yellow, Exile and I married at the Sorority House.
Cher and Stevie were my maids of honor. Stevie had mostly healed while Cher was out of her casts by then.
The latter’s hair was green again and had grown out to the length of a short bob.
Rowdy carried Cher down the aisle and rested her in a chair since she was too weak to walk on her own yet.
For this wedding, my dad didn’t need to hold his tongue. In fact, Pax was downright chatty.
“Didn’t I tell you this guy fell hard?” he asked Bebe and me, wanting credit for nailing his earlier assessment.
My mom patted his cheek and gave him what he wanted. “I was wrong to doubt you.”
I couldn’t stop smiling as my parents walked me down the aisle. My wedding dress was a simple cream-colored gown. Exile looked gorgeous in a black suit and a matching cowboy hat.
As a kid, I dreamed of finding what my parents shared. As a young woman, I settled for what felt like the right choice. But at thirty-seven, I was knocked off my feet by a man who owned my every thought.
The reception was relaxed. Exile removed his suit jacket and replaced it with his club vest. I had my vest on over my dress. We kept the booze and pot to a minimum since the kids were around. The band played acoustic versions of our favorite songs, so York could also have a good time.
Exile and I spent our honeymoon in a beach paradise off the coast of Spain. He wasn’t so sure about a European location, but I wanted to practice my Spanish and get him in his swimsuit as much as possible.
We spent our days in Ibiza exploring the island and trying new foods. On our second night, we rested naked in bed and talked about a baby.
“I don’t want to rush,” I said with my hands resting on his chest. “But I’m not getting any younger.”
“How many are you thinking?”
“One.”
“How would Dillon feel about that?”
“She said she would be okay with a sibling as long as she wasn’t roped into diaper duty.”
Exile smiled at me. His face was lit only by the moonlight, softening his hard edges and leaving behind a man with a beautiful future ahead of him.
“Long ago, when I was a young man in the Marines, I wanted a wife and a kid. I saw what other guys were doing, and I considered making a new family. Nova and I aren’t so different. We both missed those early years when we felt safe in our bubble with our parents.”
“Why didn’t you find a pretty little thing to have your baby?”
“I don’t know. Well, I didn’t then, anyway. I figured that life wasn’t for me. Or that I’d need to pretend to be someone else to make it work. With you, though, I don’t have to fake anything.”
“No, you don’t. If you said you were happy with the way things were now, I’d be okay with it. I’m not dying to go through pregnancy and delivery again. I was on bed rest for months with Dillon. Having a baby isn’t something I crave. However, I do feel the urge to make a baby with you.”
“Then, we can try. If it happens, we’ll be happy. If it doesn’t, we’ll be happy.”
Once we returned from our long, lazy honeymoon, I had my birth control removed and prepared to be disappointed. Two months later, I showed Exile the positive pregnancy test. All his hopes and fears washed across his face in that moment. Finally, he smiled and hugged me to his body.
“Nothing prepared me for meeting you,” Exile said, revealing his fearful heart over how much had changed since he showed up to save me.
The pregnancy proved uneventful until the last two months. I was already working from home most days, so going on bed rest wasn’t a drastic change.
After learning we were expecting a son, I asked Exile if we could use the name Paxton to honor the man who offered me a new life.
By then, Exile and my dad were tight. They rode around town together, hit up the batting cages, and were always talking at the fence separating our two yards.
When my parents visited Baton Rouge, Exile took Pax around town. They went fishing with my brother. Pax and Rowdy were with Exile when he got my name tattooed on his chest.
“I would be honored to have a son named after your dad,” Exile told me without hesitation.
During the last weeks of my pregnancy, I was downright miserable. I could barely move without pain. Every trip to the bathroom was precarious. Bebe stuck close to me, even sleeping over, so she could be right at my side if something happened.
Bebe was at my side when I delivered my son. Exile cradled my other hand. Pax kept watch nearby.
Feeling powerless for weeks had left me completely paranoid that the baby was sick. As I began pushing, I could barely focus through my sobs. I was certain Little Paxton would be born wrong.
“He’s perfect,” Exile murmured as he held his son for the first time.
I instantly calmed down after hearing my husband’s words. Exile was great at many things, but lying to me wasn’t one of them.
Little Paxton looked a lot like Dillon when she was born. His eyes were shaped like Exile’s, though. Admiring my beautiful, healthy baby, I felt my earlier fears wash away.
As I rested in bed with Dillon, I admired Exile showing off the baby to my family and friends who visited. I couldn’t remember ever feeling happier than in that moment.
That day in the parking garage had changed my life in both bad and good ways. I was more fearful and reclusive than I used to be. My trust in my instincts wasn’t as strong. I understood my liabilities better.
But that day also introduced me to a sexy, protective man who made me believe in magic.