Epilogue
MADDOX
The first time I saw her, she took my breath away.
And every time I kiss her, she breathes life back into me.
—Maddox’s Secret Thoughts
“I warned you my family takes Christmas Eve pretty seriously, tesoro .” Lennon looks at me with a green tinge to her cheeks as she lies tucked into my parents’ couch, as Nonna and my mother add another fish dish to their Feast of the Seven Fishes dinner. Lennon made it through one fish before she turned green. “If you didn’t like calamari, you didn’t have to eat it.”
“I love calamari. I didn’t even eat it. It was the smell. Something about the smell sent my stomach reeling,” she whispers and closes her eyes. “I can’t decide if I want to throw up or just lie here and pray it passes.”
“Come with me,” Caitlin announces as she takes Lennon’s hand and pulls her from the couch.
“Cait... Slow down. I think I’m going to be sick.”
I watch as Caitlin says something I can’t hear, and the two of them head out of the room.
“Where are they going?” Callen asks as he moves next to me with a plate of calamari in his hand.
I take a crunchy bite and pop it into my mouth. “No clue. But these taste great.”
“They smell fine too,” Callen adds as he sniffs the plate. “I don’t think it was the fish.
“Fuck. If she gets the flu, do I have to keep her away from Brennan?” I ask, hoping Callen has the answer, but he shakes his head.
“How long before we should start worrying what they’re doing up there?”
I look past him at the empty stairs. “Maybe Cait’s got Lennon lying down in her old room.”
“Under the poster she’s got up there of Lennon’s brother Rhys? That’s a little creepy.”
Dad laughs as he joins us. “You’re mother remodeled Caitlin’s room last year. No more posters of princes. Lennon’s safe for now. What are the girls doing?”
Callen and I shrug.
“My money’s on getting Lennon something to feel better,” Callen throws out, like we’re betting on a horse race.
“Maybe.” I think about it. “Lennon looked like she was going to puke when Cait took her upstairs.”
Nonna walks in and takes the plate out of Callen’s hand. “The table is set for you to eat sitting down. Not to walk around like you’re in a food court.”
“Sorry, Nonna.” Callen still sounds the same as he did when he’d fuck up as a little kid and have to apologize to Nonna for crushing her rose bushes with a football. “We’re trying to figure out what the girls are doing upstairs.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. She’s green and queasy and tired and emotional. She’s pregnant. The girls are probably talking about that.”
“I’m sorry?” My voice rises to an octave I didn’t know I could hit. “What?”
“No fucking way,” Callen groans, and Nonna smacks the back of his head.
“Language, Callen.”
Dad smiles skeptically. “Pretty sure that’s not it, Nonna. That’s just Lennon being postpartum.”
Nonna doesn’t look convinced and starts muttering in Italian as she walks away.
“She’s wrong, right?” I grasp at straws, and I start thinking about the past few weeks.
She has been extra emotional.
And extra tired.
And her boobs have been so sensitive, but I thought that was just a nursing thing... And a fucking fantastic thing. God, I love her tits. But seriously... she can’t be.
Oh, fuck me...
I hand Callen my beer and take the steps two at a time. No sooner have I hit the top step than I hear her crying. Or maybe it’s Caitlin. Shit. Or both of them.
I turn back around and whisper-yell down the stairs, “Hey, Callen. Get your ass up here.”
When he gets to the top, he stops and looks at me. “The fuck?”
Like two jackasses scared to set off a bomb, we basically tiptoe down the hall and stand outside Caitlin’s childhood bedroom, staring. “Knock, man. She’s your wife,” I tell him.
“Dude, my wife wasn’t green when she came up the stairs, and it’s your parents’ house. You fucking knock.”
Lucky comes out of his bedroom across the hall and shoves open Caitlin’s door without knocking. “They’ve been crying for ten minutes. Fucking fix it. I’m trying to concentrate in here.”
I don’t even want to know what the little shithead is concentrating on because as soon as I look in the room, I find my sister and my wife both sitting with their asses on the floor and their backs against the bed. Matching red faces are covered in tears, and they’re each holding a pregnancy test.
“Somebody want to explain what the hell is going on?” Callen asks, clearly not catching the tests in their hands.
And the look my sister gives him means she’s unimpressed. “What’s going on is that I have an eight-month-old downstairs, and you managed to knock me up again, you jackass.”
I tune out whatever those two are saying as I stare down at my wife, who’s refusing to look up at me. But judging by the white test strip with the giant pink plus sign, I’m guessing Caitlin’s not the only one who just passed this test with flying colors. I squat down and pick her up, then carry her into my old bedroom, looking for a little privacy. Once I’ve sat down on the bed with Lennon in my lap, I brush her hair from her face, turning her to look at me. “Want to tell me something, amore ?”
She looks at me with crocodile tears pouring down her face. “How come you only speak Italian words when they’re romantic?”
“What?” I ask, completely caught off guard. “I do not.”
“You do. You use my love for the way you sound speaking Italian to get into my pants. Admit it.”
“Baby...” I try not to laugh at her because I’m pretty sure she’s serious. “I don’t know. My dad always used to do that to my mom. It just kind of seemed natural. And you never gave me shit when I’d call you principessa the way you would when I called you princess. Plus, principessa means something different in my world. It doesn’t just mean that you’re a princess, it means you’re my princess. It isn’t something I’ve ever called anyone but you.”
“Are you going to be mad if I tell you I’m pregnant again?” she asks softly.
“Pretty sure you didn’t get that way by yourself, Lennon. Why would I be mad?” Shocked maybe... but not mad. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. It hasn’t really sunk in yet.” She wipes the tears from her face and blinks away the remainder from her lashes. “Brennan isn’t even two months old. What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to order another crib and convert one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery. And then maybe we’re going to hire someone to come in and help you, but this seems like a lot on your body.” My mind is going into fix-it mode, but my heart... my heart is fucking melting. “Maybe I shouldn’t love the idea of you pregnant again, but I kinda do. I didn’t get to do all those early months with you last time. This time, we know right away. And this time, we can go through it together.”
“You and your super sperm had better plan on fucking me a whole lot during this pregnancy because I swear to God, I may never let you near me again after this one.” She’s not serious. No matter how hard she’s fighting to keep a straight face. “We’re going to have another baby.”
I lean my forehead against hers. “We’re going to have another baby.”
“I want an epidural this time,” she whispers.
“I’ll make sure you get there on time, if it means we have to camp out in the hospital parking lot,” I promise her.
“You do love me,” she laughs.
“More than anything in the world, principessa .”
“No more Italian. It makes me want to do naughty things.”
I drop her down on the bed with a bounce. “It’s not like you can get more pregnant.”
Lennon circles her arms around my neck and presses her lips to mine. “No. No, it’s not.”
“Fucking gross. Shut the door,” Lucky yells, and Lennon and I both laugh.
I look at the open door. Guess I should have closed that. “Maybe if we fuck up Lucky enough, we won’t screw up our own kids.”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.” Her pretty eyes dance with mischief. “Want to give it a try, amore ?”
“Ohh... Using my own Italian against me, huh?”
Lennon’s face lights up as she smiles and nods. “Is it working?”
“Yeah, baby. It’s working... I love you.”
“Only ever you, Maddox.”
“Until my last breath, Lennon.”
The End