Chapter 36
“ Jesus, you’re cutting it short for a shotgun wedding,” Dorian stated, with his hands on his hips, as he stared at Harper’s belly when I asked him to be my best man. The method to my madness was that he’d arrange everything while I concentrated on my girls.
Four days later, I got my wish to marry Harper, and she got hers to marry in privacy on our property. The similarities for privacy between Harper and Grace didn’t pass me by.
Harper knew exactly what she wanted, and even though I offered her a far more befitting event, she was determined to have the last say and had Matty, my mom, Dinah, and Diane do the catering. The food was simple: beef Wellington or chicken Parmesan, and an assortment of delicious salads and noodle dishes, joking a carb heavy diet was every expectant mom’s right.
Angus and Dinah, Grace’s parents, were delighted when Harper called them to tell them our news. They had already given Harper their blessing. Dinah cried, but she knew about the letter, and although it must have been hard for her, she told Harper she couldn’t have wished for anyone better for me. Dinah told Harper it was bittersweet, but she was happy that my girl was going to be Layla’s new mom .
The wedding itself was a very low-key affair, but perfect according to Harper. As our close families and friends gathered around in the meadow, our altar was an arch made of fall colors and a carpet of fallen leaves in vivid oranges, reds, greens, and browns lay beneath our feet.
Harper insisted on no new dress. Instead staying casual in a white smock top and matching stretchy pants and flip-flops, because her feet were so swollen, joking was her final defense in the event the guys from Peopl e, Cosmopolitan or Rolling Stone magazines came snooping.
The only concession she made to her appearance was a Grecian braid with a few pieces of baby’s breath threaded through it. She looked radiant and stunning. Naturally Layla had the same hairstyle, but had a new pink frilly dress and wore this with some new tan leather cowboy boots underneath.
The pastor was one my mom had talked into coming with her from Delaware because Harper was paranoid about asking someone local, in the event it sparked interest from the press. Derek and Dorian sorted out the license; all we had to do was sign it.
It may not have appeared special, but we thought it was perfect, given our circumstances. However, Harper insisted she’d made no compromise, because pregnant or not, famous or not, our wedding was exactly how she had wanted it to be— minus the bump.
We wanted a fresh start from the moment our new baby was born, and for us that meant making sure Layla was happy and knew the plan before the baby’s arrival.
The most notable thing about the quick no fuss exchange of commitment was our vows. Harper humbled everyone with her sensitivity and unreserved thought for Grace’s parents and all who knew her.
My Vows to Harper
Take my hand; let me guide you from the darkness of grief.
You never spoke those words, Harper, but you silently showed me the way.
You taught me grief can’t be rushed; to each person it’s an undefinable question of time.
My time was long; in my mind, my soul was lost forever—but I was wrong .
Finding it was a troubled path but a path that led to a new destination.
You, Harper, are my new destination.
Love isn’t only experienced, defined as passion, or the feeling of excitable butterflies and skipped heartbeats.
Sometimes love is born from nurturing, from having empathy, from wiping tears, and facing fears.
Through you, I’ve learned there are a hundred ways to love.
Each one an eternal blessing, each one a valuable lesson, each one a special gift.
I give myself to you and thank God for the new joy I have found in being with you.
Thank you for being the light in my darkness, Baby. I’m forever yours.
Harper’s Vows
Cole, I stand before you today, not to take a place or replace,
but to fill the space in your heart you truly believe is mine .
Through your darkest days I’ll be by your side. Through your brightest, I’ll help you shine.
I give you my heart, my body, my mind, my trust,
Cole, I’m not your past, I’m your present and future, another life to add to your journey.
thank you for trusting your instincts about what we could be, for being brave, for facing fears and for loving me.
One week later
“Matty, can you call Karen? The number is on the address book over there, on the fridge,” I heard Harper ask calmly, from my office down the hall. Harper was three days after her due date and she hadn’t had so much as a twinge the previous night.
“What’s happening?” I asked, jumping out of my office chair and striding hurriedly down the hall to where Harper was standing holding a bath sheet between her legs, in the kitchen.
“My water broke,” she informed me laughing. “I’ve been having some weak contractions since about five this morning, but they began to heat up right after Layla left for school.” I immediately stood by her side but panic rose in my chest.
“Please, would you ask Diane and Stuart to pick Layla up for us? When Karen gets here, she’ll tell us if we can wait for her to come home at the normal time,” she asked, matter of fact, as Matty pulled the number from the fridge door and began calling the midwives.
“Shouldn’t you be lying down or something?” I asked, holding her arm in support.
“I’m not tired,” Harper replied, chuckling, and her smart-ass answer told me she was going to deal with her labor the same as she dealt with everything else—practically.
“I mean get off your feet,” I prompted, trying again.
“No. It’s better if I’m mobile. Gravity will help the labor and it’s more comfortable if I move around.”
Stuart wandered into the kitchen. “So this is it?” he said, almost as excited as Layla had been in recent days when the due date came and went with no movement.
“Either that or my bladder exploded,” Harper said, chuckling, then she winced when a contraction gripped her. The way it took her breath away also took mine, and for a moment I was back in the car with Grace on the way to the hospital in my mind. Pushing the thought aside, I eyed Harper with concern.
“Anything I can do?” I asked, hoping there was, because the sudden feeling of helplessness was crippling.
“Yeah, can you go fill the tub?” Harper asked.
“I’ll start it, but I’m not staying in the bathroom with you in here.”
“Just do it, Cole,” she barked sternly and shook her head. Pulling her to me, I softly kissed the stress from her temple and went to do as she asked.
The tub was big enough for eight people, and I used to think the people who had the house before must have had orgies in it, because I couldn’t imagine what else something this big was used for.
I waited until there was a couple of inches in the bottom and had set the faucet to balance the temperature between hot and cold, then I left it running and went back to the kitchen. To be honest, I felt I could have left it running for the day and it would never have overflowed.
“Tub’s filling? What’s next? I asked; looking for direction to keep me busy and my mind off wigging out and letting my nerves get the better of me.
“Music? The sleepover room playlist,” she suggested.
Pulling my phone out, I scrolled through my lists until I found it. “Where?”
“Here, put it on now. I want to listen,” she said, then wandered over to the kitchen counter and leaned over it to deal with another contraction. Without thinking, I went over to join her and began rubbing her lower back.
Setting my phone up with the Bluetooth speaker, I put it on shuffle and let the music fill the room. “September” by Daughtry was the first song up, and both Harper and I shot each other a look, because the lyrics were so poignant to everything that had passed and our current situation. It was also the last day of September.
“You’re doing brilliantly, Baby,” I encouraged, suddenly brave and fiercely protective. “Check the tub will you, Matty?” I asked, and then I concentrated my attention on Harper.
Matty nodded and left the room while Stuart had begun to pace. “What do you need from upstairs, Baby’?” I asked.
“There’s a bag by the side of the dresser, everything else I need is already in the bathroom down the hall.” Stuart looked relieved at the delegation and left the kitchen.
Ten contractions later, we’d established they were coming every three minutes, each lasting a minute or so when the gate buzzer sounded. Checking out the CCTV monitor, we saw it was Karen’s car, closely followed by Natasha’s. Relief flooded through me and a couple of minutes later they wandered into the kitchen in an unhurried fashion.
Karen smiled. “Hello, Harper, Cole,” addressing my girl, then nodding to me.
“Who’s having a birthday, today?” she gloated. “Tell me what’s been going on, Harper, then we’ll go in the living room and check you out. Meanwhile, Cole, we could use a coffee if there’s one going,” she instructed me, and I knew she was making me feel useful.
I wandered over to the coffee pot, nerves making my hands shake slightly, and I poured them a couple of mugs of coffee. “Milk’s in the fridge behind you,” I said, knowing I couldn’t get anywhere near it for the bags they’d dropped by their feet.
Between contractions, Harper sat on one of the breakfast barstools and conversed with everyone as if nothing was going on. The respect I had for her was immense, and I felt guilty when she caught my eye and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, it’s you I’m worried about,” I snapped, aloud.
By the time Stuart took Diane to pick up Layla, Harper had been examined and she was well over halfway to fully dilated.
“Whoa! That was intense. I think it’s time for the tub,” she said when a contraction took her breath.
Shit. I’d forgotten about the tub and prayed Matty had taken care of it.
Assisting Harper down the hall, I was relieved to see it was halfway and the faucet had been turned off. I’d been too focused on what was happening with Harper to care about it.
“Can you give me a hand here, Honey?” Harper asked, taking her sweater off as she went into the throes of a new contraction. We waited for it to ebb as she breathed through the pain, and when she was done, I helped her get naked and she climbed into the tub.
For a few minutes she appeared to cope better for being in there, but soon after she was wriggling around restless and couldn’t get comfortable, even on her hands and knees.
Natasha narrowed her eyes like she was sizing me up. “Do you think you could get in behind Harper and support her in the water?” she enquired.
They’d spoken about this during their visits, and each time, I kind of backed off figuring I’d be more of a hindrance than a help. I knew the deep-rooted fears I had from Grace’s labor still plagued me, but when faced with the real-life scenario, I nodded immediately .
“Sure. What do I do?” I asked, and Harper glanced up at me in surprise, obviously gauging whether I really was okay with Natasha’s suggestion.
“Strip down and get in behind Harper. Let me adjust the water temperature first,” Natasha replied.
“Oh, sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” I replied, reading the comment both ways.
“Ignore him; he’s such an opportunist,” Harper told them, laughing before another contraction interrupted her scathing comment.
Thankfully, she was too distracted to see how her comment had floored me. It wasn’t something she’d ever said to me before, yet she had mentioned it twice lately, once when I asked her to marry me and at this, another significant turning point in my life. Either I was turning into a pussy or there were signs everywhere.
Natasha emptied a little water out of the tub and added more hot water.
“Are you getting in then?” Harper asked, eyeing me curiously, when her contraction had ebbed and Natasha had turned the faucet back off.
“For you, Sweetheart’, anything,” I confirmed, tugging on the buckle of my belt.
“No, you have to put a swimsuit on,” Harper cried out, her voice high pitched.
“What? Why? You’re naked?” I nodded at her body. “What’s the difference? Best you look away now, ladies, rock stars don’t wear underwear,” I stated as I undid the fly on my jeans and shoved them down my legs to the floor. Gingerly, I stepped out of them and into the bath, with Harper trying to catch my dick and balls in her hands to hide them.
I chuckled. “Jesus, woman, you’re in the middle of giving birth and you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” I teased, as a new contraction came on and the atmosphere tensed again. Nudity had never been a problem for me, and I wasn’t leaving her to go upstairs and find some board shorts.
Positioning myself behind her with my legs open, I slid down against the bath, pulling Harper’s shoulders back to take her weight .
Heat radiated from her to me and her hair was stuck to the back of her neck, so I set to work cooling her down with a washcloth and scooping her hair together again, retying it in her pony holder. I kissed her neck and talked her through breathing for the next half hour.
Suddenly the door burst open and the patter of feet running down the hall was quickly followed by heavier ones.
“No, Layla, you have to wait here until someone comes and gets you,” Diane called out after her.
“It’s okay, she can come in.” Harper called out, sounding relaxed, but my body stiffened. I wasn’t sure how Layla would take to what was happening, and the last thing I wanted was for her to be scared.
Discarding her coat and shoes, she came and hung over the side of the bath with her head resting on her forearms.
“Wow, you’re naked,” she observed. “It’s really coming?” she asked Harper excitedly.
“Yeah, Baby, it is.” Harper sounded tired this time, and I noted she had become more restless since Layla had come home. At first, I wondered if it was because she was naked, and Layla was checking her out, but something inside me sensed Harper’s situation was changing.
“Can I get in?” Layla asked, after Karen had used a handheld monitor wrapped in a waterproof glove to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. She’d been doing this regularly throughout Harper’s labor. “Sounds good,” she reported and jotted it in Harper’s notes.
“Yeah–No,” both Harper and I said simultaneously.
“Yes, you can get in for a few minutes, but you have to promise to get out as soon as Karen or Natasha tell you to because the baby will be coming.” I was stunned by Harper’s cool head; she was unbelievable.
Layla peeled down to her panties and climbed in the water. “It’s nice and warm,” she commented, as she settled at the side of my leg and leaned over carefully to kiss first Harper’s cheek then mine. Her sense of occasion was spot on when she slipped one of her hands into Harper’s and covered the one of mine nearest to her that I was using to support Harper.
A few contractions later I’d noticed Harper was shifting about more and had begun to make some grunting noises at the height of her contractions. I’d forgotten all about calling the doctor. It all felt how it was meant to be.
“Harper, you’re doing incredibly well. Remember the longer you can resist pushing; the less work there will be to deliver. Babies know their way out, and as long as it isn’t distressed, we allow things to happen naturally,” Karen instructed her calmly.
Turning to address Layla, she smiled. “Layla, Honey, I think it may be time for you to get out for a bit. I don’t think the baby is going to be long before it arrives now.” I expected a protest because of how protective Layla had been since she’d found out Harper was pregnant, but she stood up and allowed Karen to help her out.
“Should I get dressed?” she asked.
“If you want to,” Natasha replied, and Layla went and grabbed a bath sheet, wrapping it round herself, then came to settle by my head. Ignoring the fact, she was wet.
“I may miss something,” Layla mused, and I smiled at her. She was so astute.
The two midwives began to open packets and prepare an area for the baby. As soon as I saw suction tubes, I almost allowed my fears to return, but Karen had obviously been keeping an eye on me.
“It’s fine, Cole. This tube is just if there is any mucus in the baby’s airway, so we can clear it out. It’s a perfectly normal precaution,” she informed me, right as Harper could no longer resist pushing and moved her arms under her legs, grabbing her thighs.
“Ah,” Harper called out and hissed. “It burns,” she gasped in pain. Karen snapped on some rubber gloves and dipped her hand in the water between Harper’s legs.
“Good girl,” she told Harper, “your baby’s head is right there. That burn you feel is your perineum stretching. If you can, when you get the next breath, try to give me some short pants instead of pushing. The baby’s head will crown in the next couple of contractions. You’ve got this far, and it’s nearly over. Keep listening and this will be a beautiful calm birth.”
Another contraction came, and I automatically began to coach. “Short breaths, Sweetheart’, you’re doing fantastic. I love you so much,” I babbled, almost beside myself, because I was on the verge of panicking. Layla stayed silent, resting her chin on her forearms, watching.
The contraction ebbed, and Karen checked the baby’s heartbeat and felt in the water for the baby’s head again. “Wow, it’s crowned, the baby’s head won’t slide back now, Harper, good job. The head will be born in the next contraction, keep panting if you can,” she added.
Once again, Harper did as she was asked, and the baby’s head was out in less than a minute. Peering over her shoulder, I could see a mound of black hair in the water, but I couldn’t make out much else. I glanced at Layla who was now standing on tiptoe, craning her neck for a better view, and taking it all in her stride.
I became distracted again by Harper when she began shaking violently.
“What’s happening?” I asked, unable to keep the panic from my voice.
“Stay calm, Cole. It’s nothing to worry about. This is the effect of the physical effort to stay in control. Next contraction your baby will be born, Harper.”
No sooner were the words out than Karen dragged our limp baby, soaking wet, from between Harper’s legs and laid it on her chest. Harper’s hands immediately cradled its back and I stared, concerned when it lay still for more than a few heartbeats, then it caught a breath and opened its eyes.
I groaned loudly with relief. “Oh, it almost gave me heart failure there,” I admitted.
“You’re so dramatic,” Harper chuckled.
Karen leaned over and lifted one of the baby’s legs, “What do we have, Mom?” she probed.
I looked when she was directing Harper, but heard Harper say, “It’s a boy,” before my eyes confirmed that it was.
Layla squealed with delight, then her face fell serious. “We can’t let him play with Jaden, Harper, he’ll teach him to pee on the plants,” she replied, like it was the most important advice Harper would ever receive.
Turning to look up at Harper’s flushed face, her bright eyes stole my breath. Flashing me a beautiful smile she said, “I’m so proud of you.” Her comment sounded as if I was the one who had pushed a watermelon through a tight little hole.
“Sweetheart’, I don’t even have words for what I’ve witnessed in you today,” I replied, and bent over to kiss her softly.
“Yuk!” Layla shouted, and I pulled my face away. Tracing her gaze, I saw Natasha doing something funky with the placenta. “We don’t have to keep the jelly fish as well, do we?” Layla asked in all seriousness.
“Cole, maybe you can take her through to the kitchen now for cookies and milk and let me get out of here,” Harper prompted. Moving forward, I stood up in the bath and Layla shook her head.
“Daddy, where are your pants?” she asked, running over to the towel shelves and dragging a hand towel over for me. I chuckled as I took it.
“Something wrong with this picture, Sweet Pea. How come you got the big towel?” I asked.
“I was covering my whole body; you only have a little bit to cover.” All three women laughed, and I smirked as I climbed out of the bath holding the towel over my dick.
Less than an hour later, Harper had fed the baby in the bath before she’d been cleaned up, and strolled through to the living room with the baby in her arms like what had gone on was no big deal. It was the last thing I’d expected to happen.
“What are you doing? You should be resting in bed,” Matty admonished, as she gushed over our son.
“I’ve been sitting on my backside all day,” she countered.
“Here. It’s your turn,” Harper offered, wandering over to me and placing the baby in my arms. Layla immediately squeezed down the side of the couch next to me. Harper eased down on the soft cushion beside me and winced. I immediately frowned, and she smiled. “I’m fine.”
I turned my attention to our son and he lifted his outstretched hand. Touching it gently, I then placed my index finger along his palm and he immediately made a fist around it. He opened his eyes and blinked, and his tiny red lips made a neat little ‘O’.
Then he stared unfocused, but my eyes connected with his and it felt as if my heart had burst open in my chest. “Hello, little man,” I cooed, instantly recognizing the feeling of pure joy I’d missed out on when Layla was born. There are no words that could accurately describe what went on in my head at that moment. All I knew was I didn’t know my son yet, but I knew I loved him so hard and I’d give my life for him, just as much as I would have for Layla.
Blinking up at me like he’d been woken up abruptly, he pulled a face and pursed his lips like he was saying ‘oo’ and we all smiled.
“Twenty-one inches; seven pounds two ounces,” Harper informed me proudly. My seven-pound guess was almost spot on.
“So, what are we calling him, Mom?” I asked Harper. “Nine months and we’ve still not decided,” I mused.
“Can I name him?” Layla eyed first me, then Harper.
Harper smirked but decided to indulge her anyway. “What were you thinking?”
“Simba or Abu,” she said deadpan.
Both Harper and I bit back grins and Harper shook her head. “I think you have to be a lion to be called Simba,” Harper reasoned with a straight face.
“Abu Harkin… not really a big name is it? We need something special for him,” I suggested.
“Special?” Layla asked, tapping her lips with her forefinger. “I know,” she squealed, suddenly excited.
“What’s Santa’s name again?”
“Kris Kringle?” I asked and I couldn’t hold back my chuckle.
“No, the holy one?” Harper frowned for a moment; then it was as if a light bulb flashed behind her eyes.
“St. Nicholas?”
“That’s him… or Jesus?” she added. I looked toward Harper to rescue this.
“Nicholas? Nick Harkin? Not bad,” she mused. I had to agree, and we knew it would mean the world to Layla to be responsible for naming him.
“All right, Nicholas Harkin it is.”
Layla jumped up and down and ran to tell everyone else the baby’s name, as the midwives packed their equipment in preparation to leave for the night.
Turning to Harper, I cradled our new son in one hand, shifted to face her and cupped her cheek with the other. “Baby, you are nothing short of a walking miracle to me. You emit so much light you blind me. You have made Layla and I so happy.”
Tears welled in Harper’s eyes and she touched my face in return. “Cole, it’s me who should be thanking you, for letting me in when life was so tough, for trusting we could do this when you had experienced so much hurt. Our baby’s birth is a new beginning, our new beginning. We’ve just got to believe this and it’ll work out.”
“I believe you, Sweetheart. I used to think my life was over; I didn’t want to go on. Now I can’t wait for each tomorrow, to get to know this tiny bundle of love and hope. To watch our children grow. What I witnessed today was an incredible show of strength; you have an amazing and beautiful soul. Thank you for my precious son, for being everything my beautiful daughter needs, and for loving me.”
For years I was stuck, my soul buried in tragedy, along with who I thought was the love of my life. Consumed by my heartache to the point I almost missed the joy I never thought it was possible to feel again. Where a sudden catastrophic event turned my life on its head as I clung to the memories of a love that was lost.
When my heart wanted to heal, I had feelings within me I couldn’t bear to have, because my mind wasn’t ready to trust that things could be other than the desolate despair of the path I was walking alone.
Truth was: I was never alone. I was just too damaged to notice; too afraid to climb out of the shell of who I once was, to be the man my daughter needed.
I thought Grace was my life, when she was an important part, but not the whole. Loving Harper wasn’t a choice, and I finally faced my fears enough to grab onto my second chance for another life, with both hands .
Through faith and trust, Harper not only mended my heart, she made me stronger, and I learned to love her in ways I never knew existed during the time I had with Grace. I also discovered, by finding the courage to sidestep the darkness grief and sorrow brings, it may be possible to find true love more than once within the same lifetime.
The End.