Epilogue 2 Greedy
A Few Weeks Later
“It’s a boy!”
It’s a boy. It’s a boy. It’s a boy.
I have a son .
The birthing suite is abuzz with energy. If energy is even the correct term to describe the chaos happening all around me. The room is loud and crowded. It’s overstimulating and incredible. Between the hospital staff, Sione’s doula trainer, and our entire cohort, there’s hardly any room to move.
Hunter was exquisite and the baby is here. I have a son . I’m so overwhelmed with joy I don’t know what to do with myself.
Hunter’s birthing plan called for minimal support staff in the room while she labored. That request was honored, and only when it was time to push did a slew of new faces join us.
It’s crowded in here now, but that tends to happen in any room we find ourselves in.
Our cohort continues to grow. Because today, we’ve added an entire human being to our unconventional, remarkable family.
Our son.
As much as I want to see him, study him, count his fingers and toes, he’s across the room, on the other side of this sea of people, being cleaned up and checked over. Spence and Levi are hovering over one of the nurses as she weighs him and completes the required newborn screenings. They’ve got him. He’s safe.
Hunter, the beautiful mother of my child, is lying back with her eyes closed, a dreamy look painted on her face as Sione strokes her hair and whispers in her ear.
I want to go to her. I want to meet my son. I want to be in two places at once. Instead, my feet are cemented to the floor, keeping me frozen in the middle of the room as I take it all in.
We did it. We made it. This is real. This is right.
With a shuddering breath, my temporary suspension eases, and I force my feet to move. I stride over to Hunter and gently take her face in my hands.
“You did so well, Tem.”
Her eyelids flutter open, her gaze slightly unfocused as she takes in the noise and chaos behind me. “He’s okay?” she whispers.
There’s no tempering my face-splitting smile. “He’s perfect. You’re perfect.” I kiss her forehead, then look over to the weighing station, where the nurse is swaddling the baby and Spence and Levi are watching intently. “They’re almost done checking him out. The others haven’t left his side.”
Though she nods in response, her bottom lip trembles and her bright green eyes fill with tears. “Greedy. I want to hold our baby.”
Her request guts me. Urgently, I nod and straighten to full height. This moment is years in the making. The feral need to give her exactly what she wants seizes me, tightening around every organ in my body.
After all this time—after what we lost, and the way she suffered—I refuse to allow another minute to pass in which she doesn’t have him in her arms.
“Mom is asking for her baby,” I call out, my gaze still sent intently on Hunter. He was placed on her chest immediately after birth, but now it’s been close to five minutes since they took him away. That’s too long. They need to be skin-to-skin so they can bond.
“Uh-oh. Garrett used his dad voice on us already,” Spence strides over to the opposite side of the bed. He’s beaming, wearing a grin bigger than I’ve ever seen from him before.
The terse look I give him wipes the proud smirk right off his face.
“Come along, Champ,” he tells Levi, making room for our boyfriend at the bedside.
Levi doesn’t look up. He doesn’t reply to Spence, acknowledge me, or even look at Hunter or Si as he carefully makes his way over to the bed. He’s singularly focused on the tiny swaddled bundle he’s cradling in his arms.
He’s transfixed. He’s in love.
“He’s perfect,” he chokes out. When he finally lifts his head and meets my gaze, his bright blue eyes are brimming with tears. “Greedy. Our son is perfect.”
My heart triples in size at the immediate, natural, loving reaction he has to our child. It’s life-altering, watching the bond developing between the two of them. But a stronger urge rallies inside me, reminding me of what’s most important in this moment.
“Hunter needs to hold him. Right now,” I explain, choosing my words carefully to ensure the urgency of the matter isn’t lost while preserving the feelings of the man experiencing the pure love between parent and child for the first time in his life.
Levi’s focus shifts to our girl, and the look on his face turns to one of understanding. He gets the weight of this moment. He knows what it means for her, to hold a baby in her arms after all this time. What it means for all of us, to bear witness to this experience and allow it to imprint on our hearts.
Sione helps her sit up, supporting her back when she winces and shifts her weight. He places a pillow behind her, then another one under her left side.
Bending low, Levi uses the gentlest, most deliberate movements to shift the baby into Hunter’s waiting arms. “There ya go, Mama. Say hello to your son.”
Tears stream down her face as she studies the gift in her arms. “Hi, baby.”
I wipe away the moisture from my own eyes as I watch her holding him for the first time.
This is it. This is everything we yearned for. All we dreamed of when we agreed to grow our family.
She kisses the top of his head, and when she straightens, I catch the dark hair peeking out from the pink and blue knit hat. He was blood-covered and pink from screaming when the doctor laid him on her chest, but now that he’s calmer, there’s a distinct golden-brown hue to his skin.
He’s clearly Sione’s child by blood.
All along, we said it didn’t matter.
Even so, I wondered, worried even, that, deep down, I might feel differently if the baby looked distinctly like one of the other guys once he was born.
He’s here. He does look like someone else.
Without a shadow of a doubt, I know now that his paternity truly doesn’t matter.
He’s mine, as I am his.
They’re all mine, just as I am theirs.
Seeing him in the flesh, knowing he is our first earthside baby, and that his little soul joined us at the exact right time, is soul-affirming. It makes this life make more sense.
I haven’t even touched him, yet I love him so much it hurts. There’s an ache in the center of my chest, more profound and intense than any love I’ve ever known.
He’s here. He’s perfect. He’s mine.
Easing onto the bed beside Hunter, I wrap one arm around her shoulder and kiss her hair.
Then I focus on our son. I try to speak. Nothing comes out. I try again, this time choking out a single garbled syllable. Finally, I clear my throat and take a cleansing breath.
With a single finger, I stroke his cheek. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.”
Hunter bursts into tears again.
“Oh, Tem.” I try to soothe her, but I can barely take my eyes off the baby in her arms.
“I’m fine. I’m fine . It’s just the hormones, I swear.”
Sione loops an arm around her neck and hugs her to him, holding her steady. “It’s not just the hormones. It’s this gift . Feel it, Mahina. Feel it all. We’ll never get this moment back.”
Hunter bursts into fresh tears.
Spence shoots him an incredulous look, but thankfully, doesn’t sling one of his signature jabs.
Our son lets out a little wail then, as if he’s trying to match his mama.
“Hey, you’re okay, buddy,” I soothe. “Mommy’s got you. We’ve all got you.” I kiss his forehead, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down my face.
Sione cups a hand over the one Hunter has supporting the baby’s head. “I’m your Tamai,” he tells his son.
Levi crouches so he’s face-to-face with the baby. “I’m your Pops.” He grins up at me, then Hunter and Sione, before finally looking back at Spence, a mischievous gleam suddenly glinting in his eye. “And that’s Daddy Spence.”
Kabir sidles up behind Levi and places a hand on his shoulder. “That is not the name we agreed upon.”
Levi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because we didn’t agree on anything. Our kids aren’t calling you Sire. Full Stop.”
Chuckling, I finally tear my gaze away from the precious bundle in Hunter’s arms to see who may still be lingering to overhear this ridiculous discussion. Only then do I realize everyone has cleared out. We’re alone now. Just the six of us.
“What about his name?” Hunter asks, still transfixed by the sweet babe in her arms. He cries out again, and she shushes him. “Are you hungry, little man? Should we try to nurse?” She looks from one of us to another, seeking reassurance. “We’re still set on his name?”
“His name is perfect,” I assure her.
It’s classic and strong, but unique in its spelling. Representative of our family, though neither Sione nor Levi felt compelled to include parts of themselves in our son’s full name. Spence did—of course he did—and once I thought about it, I decided I wanted to be included, too.
Jole Kabir Ferguson St. Clair.
“I love his name,” Levi confirms. “Although I still don’t get how ‘Jole’ is close enough to ‘Josephine’ to satisfy this little pact you two made in a women’s restroom during a football game.”
With a grin, Hunter peers up at me. Joze is going to be thrilled—and Jole will grow up knowing he was named after the second strongest, bravest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.
Second, only because his mama holds the top spot.
My first love. My beautiful Artemis. And now, the mother of my child.
“Love you,” I mouth to her, too emotional to utter another word out loud.
She presses her lips together, overcome with emotion, too, and nods with a mouthed “I love you, too.”