Chapter 55
Abby
One Year
“Stop it right now,” Ellie gasps when I open the front door. “Are you absolutely kidding me?”
At her Auntie Ellie’s appearance, Erin squeals and claps her hands together, and before I can bat an eye she’s out of my arms and into Ellie’s.
“I mean really, this is ridiculous,” she says, cooing at Erin and booping her on the nose. “Two perfect ginger angels in perfect matching dresses? What’s a girl to do, huh?” She blows a raspberry on Little One’s cheek, who shrieks with delight.
I knew the matching emerald gingham would be a hit with her.
“Hi Abs,” Griffin greets me. “You both look beautiful. And happy birthday to you,” he says, voice pitching up an octave as he tickles Erin on her side. One of the most wonderful parts of the last year has been watching the way Erin’s bonus uncles and aunties dote on her.
She’s going to be spoiled rotten.
Behind Griffin, David comes into view and–
“What in the hell are you wearing?” Jack says, appearing by my side.
“I wanted to look nice,” David says incredulously. “My best friend is turning one, if I can’t dress up for this what can I dress up for?”
“I mean, I think a tux is a little excessive for a one-year-old’s birthday party.”
“Don’t listen to him David,” I say, waving Jack off. “You look very dashing. Wait a second…does your tie match her dress?”
“I did my research,” he says with a sly grin.
“I don’t even want to know,” Jack mutters as I laugh, pulling David in for a hug.
“Never change, Funcle David.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says. “Where is she anyway?”
“Somewhere that way with Ellie and Griff,” I say, gesturing toward the kitchen, which leads to the backyard. “Everyone should be outside.”
The urge to shout “no running through the house!” to a thirty year old man is baffling, but warranted. Jack heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“C’mon Jacky boy,” I say, patting his arm consolingly. “Let’s go celebrate our girl.”
“What do you think the odds are of Erin growing up before David does?”
“Astronomical.”
I thread my arm through his as we walk through the sliding glass door and into the garden wonderland we’ve spent many painstaking hours creating.
Above all things, Erin seems to love flowers and butterflies, so flowers and butterflies she has.
Enormous paper butterflies hang from the blooming magnolia tree, and a balloon arch laden with greenery and baby’s breath is fastened to the lattice structure where the morning glories have been climbing higher and higher every day.
The girls from the bakery made the most perfect white chocolate and raspberry cupcakes, each topped with a singular candied sugar monarch.
They also surprised me with a smash cake for Erin, covered in sage green icing with dark green detailing and the words “Grow, baby, grow” written in cursive white frosting across the top, with a gold number 1 candle placed next to the phrase.
My gaze sweeps across the yard, and my heart is full to bursting.
Mine and Aaron’s dads (that’s Pop-pop and Granddad, to you) are manning the grill, arguing the merits of charcoal with or without hickory chips.
Andrea and Granny are perched in matching adirondack chairs, lemonades in hand, laughing as they watch Erin bounce on Nate’s shoulders, desperately trying to grab hold of the butterflies as he zigzags under the tree.
It’s incredible to see what can happen in a year.
This time last year, I was laboring in a hospital bed, entirely convinced that I’d be a failure as a mother, and that I’d be alone forever.
Looking around at the friends and family gathered to celebrate our beautiful baby girl’s birthday, I can’t fathom how I ever believed that.
“You okay?” Jack murmurs against my ear, coming up close behind me and wrapping his arms across my chest. I grab onto his forearm, twisting my neck to look up at him.
At this wonderful, beautiful man who has never once treated me or Erin like anything less than the loves of his life.
My best friend, my partner–who caught me by complete surprise, rooting himself in the deepest parts of me, in places I thought I was too rocky and barren for anything to ever bloom again.
“I’m perfect,” I say, rising to my toes to plant a soft kiss on his jawline. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asks, a bemused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You, Granny, and Andrea did all of this, not me. I’m just here.”
“Exactly,” I say, not elaborating any further. Apparently that’s good enough for him, because he shrugs and rests his chin on the top of my head while we watch Ellie coaxing Erin into taking tiny barefooted steps across the grass.
“Abby, dear, do you want to do cake before or after food?” Andrea calls to me from the folding table housing both snacks and presents.
Squeezing Jack’s arm once before stepping out of his grip, I make my way over to her, and begin weighing the pros and cons of each.
We decide after would be best, and once we’re all stuffed to the brim with hotdogs and corn on the cob, Ellie emerges from the kitchen with the small cake, the sparkling candle casting a golden glow on Erin’s face once it’s set in front of her.
I crouch beside her high chair, with Jack mirroring me on the other side, helping her blow the candle out as the Happy Birthday chorus finishes.
I snatch the candle from the cake quickly before Erin can grab at it, and step back as she absolutely annihilates the cake in front of her to a point beyond recognition.
She’s a sticky mess, covered head to toe in icing, belly-laughing while David lets her smear cake across his face.
I wish I could bottle this feeling up and keep it with me always.
After another hour of gift opening and general mayhem, she starts falling asleep while sitting up and we decide to call it quits. Despite my numerous protests, Ellie, Andrea, and Granny insist on staying to help me clean everything up—except for the backyard, which has been assigned to the boys.
After everything is said and done, Ellie follows me into the nursery, where we each blow kisses at the angel dozing off in her crib.
“Thank you, Ellie Bellie,” I whisper, kissing her on the cheek. “For everything. I don’t know how I’d do this life without you. I love you forever.”
“I love you, my sweet ginger angel,” she says, eyes shining bright with emotion.
Once the house is put back together and the yard no longer looks like something out of Alice in Wonderland, our dearest friends and family bid us goodnight. Waving at them from the porch with Jack’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so warm and full of life.
“I have something for you,” he whispers in my ear as the last car drives away.
“For me?” I ask. “What for?”
“C’mon,” he says, tilting his head and beckoning me inside the house. “It’s a surprise.”
I let him lead me into the living room and plant me on the sofa before he disappears down the hallway. I hear the opening of the linen closet, and after a few moments of rummaging, his footsteps lead him back to me.
In his hands is a large rectangle wrapped in brown paper and tied with a simple bow made of green ribbon. He takes a seat next to me, but when I reach for the gift he pulls back, keeping it out of my reach.
“I know that today was about Erin,” he starts. “One year with your perfect little girl in the world.”
“One year with our perfect little girl,” I correct, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair.
“Our girl,” he grins. “But it also marks one year since the most incredible woman in the world did the hardest thing she’s ever done.”
My eyes immediately well up with tears—before pregnancy, I wasn’t much of a crier. I chalked it up to hormones and grief initially, but I think this might just be who I am now.
“You are so strong, pretty girl,” he murmurs, leaning into my touch. “The bravest, most resilient, most remarkable woman I’ve ever known. I couldn’t let the whole day go by without celebrating you, too.”
“Jack Robbit, you old softie,” I half-whimper, half-laugh.
“I wanted you to have a reminder,” he continues, his smile widening.
“That pretty girl in there,” he says, nodding in the direction of the nursery.
“She’s going to be so amazing. And that’s because of the amazing mom she’s lucky enough to have.
You did that, Abs. I know I say it all the time, but I’m so goddamn proud of you. ”
“I hope you like it,” he says nervously, setting the gift in my lap and watching as I hastily untie the ribbon and rip the paper off.
It’s a painting. In detailed acrylic is a picture of me as I lay in the hospital bed, my hair a mess, looking happier than anyone has ever been before. I’m smiling down at the sweet bundle in my arms, completely enraptured.
It’s a replica of the very first photo of me and Erin after she was born. The exact moment everything changed for me. I didn’t really know who I was or what I was made for until I looked at her little face for the first time.
“Jack Robb,” I gasp softly. “This is beautiful.”
“You really like it?” he asks.
“I love it,” I say, still staring at me and my perfect Little One memorialized on canvas. “And I love you,” I say, looking up at him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he mumbles against my lips as he kisses me gently. “And Erin. And I’ll love you for as long as you want.”
“Forever,” I say, setting the painting down gingerly and leaning into his chest. “I’ll say it every time. I want forever.”