Epilogue #2
Images of Bash with a son who looked like him, mirroring his every move, growing up surrounded by all those strong men and women.
One girl and one boy. It sounded perfect to me.
My attention returned to Bash, who was opening the small gift.
I had made it online, not wanting to ask Match and reveal anything.
Once the wrapping paper was gone Bash pulled out a baby onesie, holding it in front of him so he could see the image.
It had a biker vest printed onto it with the prospect patch on the front.
He looked at me smiling, a bit of confusion on his face.
Clearing my throat, I looked around at everyone before focusing on my husband.
“So our son can look just like his daddy,” I replied, and Guard slapped the table in excitement as Match cheered. My eyes never left Bash’s, though, trying to read his mind just from his expression.
“We’re having a boy?” he asked me, his hand sinking around the back of my neck to pull me close enough that he could press his forehead against mine.
“Yes. I know you wanted it to be a surprise, but I just couldn’t wait.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. God I love you,” he told me, his voice fierce before he pulled me into him for a brutal kiss.
Charlie let out a wolf whistle, while Guard laughed.
Match made vomit noises, and Bull hit him over the head.
Ignoring all of them, I kissed my husband back, every inch of my body vibrating with love and happiness.
As I pulled away, I was startled to see tears pooling in Bash’s eyes. I cupped his face, and his hand came up and held mine against his cheek. His focus locked on me, he cleared his throat before speaking in a gravely voice.
“Thank you. It’s not enough but every day, I am thankful that you took a chance on me, on us.
So thank you, for marrying me. For making me a father.
For making us a family.” Tears were pooling in my eyes, and I buried my face in Bash’s chest. Wrapped in his embrace, we were pulled apart by tiny hands.
Birdie had squirmed her way between us until we shifted apart, giving her just enough room to climb into my lap.
“Why you sad?” she asked as I wiped my own tears away.
“These are happy tears baby,” I told her as I smiled at her beautiful face. She leaned forward and gave me a loud kiss.
“There. All better,” she proclaimed as everyone laughed.
“Birdie’s kisses do fix everything,” Charlie stated as she watched us all with a happy smile.
“Just like her Daddy,” Bash muttered under his breath, but loud enough for most people to hear. I turned beat red as Guard smothered his laugh with a cough.
Finally, we all got back to eating as conversation quickly shifted to baby topics.
Plans for the nursery, what to add to the clubhouse, showers and registries floated around me as I took stock of my life and how far I had come.
I was surrounded by warmth, understanding, love and safety.
I let it wrap around me like a soft blanket, cloaking me in comfort and joy.
Happily ever after looked different for everyone. Mine looked like dinners surrounded by nosey, overbearing friends and family. It looked like summer bbqs at the clubhouse, large gatherings with kids running about while bikers mingled with lawyers, doctors and artists.
My happily ever after was going to sleep every night, knowing that I hadn’t just “made it.” I had transformed myself. I had broken free of the chains I let tether me to the past. Reborn, I wasn’t just alive, I was finally living. Surrounded by the people who set me free.
Bash
Six Months Later
In the early hours of Sunday morning, I woke up to find myself in an empty bed. My arm was stretched across the vacant spot my wife typically occupied. Looking at the alarm clock, I saw it was barely 6 a.m. With a groan, I dragged myself out of bed, mind set on tracking down Fee.
After using the bathroom, I quickly checked on Birdie, and was happy to see she was still asleep, her stuffed unicorn tight in her grasp.
Stepping away as quietly as I could, I snuck through the house.
The kitchen light was on and evidence of Fiona’s morning tea was littered about, but I still hadn’t seen her.
Surprised she wasn’t sitting in the living room, a faint muttering caught my attention. Heading to the laundry room that was between the kitchen and back door, I found a very pregnant Fiona bent over a bin of laundry, digging through it with increasing anger.
“Of course it’s dirty. It’s fine, I just have to find it and see if it can be febreezed. Or do the laundry. Ugh.”
Fiona was talking to herself per usual, but I could tell she was working herself up. I cleared my throat, and she jumped, whirling around as fast as she could in her state. One hand instinctively went to her stomach, while the other was at her chest, before her alarm turned to anger.
“Why are you lurking there like that! You scared the shit out of me. I probably peed myself,” she complained as I pulled her to me.
“Baby, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? How about I’m the size of a freaking whale, and the only dress that fits me didn’t make it into the laundry.
This baby has been in there long enough.
I’m hot. I’m tired. I miss being able to see my feet.
Everything is too tight or too itchy or too baggy.
I either look like a sausage or a circus tent!
I always have to pee and I’m stomping around this place like freaking Godzilla!
" She finished her tirade, and I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Godzilla?” I asked.
“Taking slow steps that shake the earth when I finally move. Bodily knocking down anything in the way. Need I go on!” she snapped.
“Breathing fire on innocent bystanders…” I replied, and she gasped and tried to move away from me. Laughing, I pulled my prickly wife back into my arms.
“Baby. I can’t do anything about you having to pee, but can I try to help you get a little more comfortable?
I’ll deal with the laundry. Just let me take you upstairs and get you settled?
” An idea was brewing in my head. Fiona snuggled her face into my shirt, her arms loping around my waist before she tilted her head back.
“So you do think I’m like Godzilla,” she stated, glaring at me.
“Your words, not mine…” She gasped before giggling.
“Let’s take a shower together. Cool you down.
I’ll crank the AC up so by the time we get out, it will be cooler, and you can go back to bed.
I’ll keep Birdie away and take care of the chores.
You can sleep naked. No itchy or tight clothes.
I’ll even take pictures of your feet so you can see them,” I murmured into her hair as I rubbed my hands up and down her back.
“Can you make it so cold I can use a fluffy blanket?” she asked, and I smiled.
“Colder than the arctic. C’mon, let’s get you cooled off.”
Escorting Fiona back upstairs I had to refrain from any Godzilla references as I took in her much slower pace.
Her stomach led the way, looking impossibly large considering her small frame.
Fiona was beautiful to me at all times. It didn’t matter if she was dressed for dinner or running on an hour of sleep after a night up with a colicky baby.
Pregnant Fiona, though, was a sight to behold. Her skin glowed, her curves flared out, making everything fuller. She looked lush and vibrant. It took everything I had not to pull her to me at all times of the day.
However I knew this pregnancy was turning out to be rougher than what she experienced when she was pregnant with Birdie. Cramps, heartburn, insomnia. Poor Fee couldn’t catch a break. I couldn’t take the physical burden from her, but I could try to make things easier, more comfortable.
We took a quiet shower together. I held Fee in my arms as the cool water ran over us. She sighed as I massaged her lower back and encouraged her to lean more of her weight on me. Once her body was lax and goose bumps appeared on her skin, I turned the water off.
Gently helping her out of the shower, I made sure she was steady on her feet before grabbing towels.
Not letting her move a muscle, I toweled her off making sure not to miss a spot.
I led her to the bed where I had already pulled back the covers.
With the AC on high, I gently helped her get up onto the mattress before tucking her in.
“Go back to sleep, I’m gonna take care of Birdie, get out of the house for a bit. Do not leave this room,” I told her with a stern look.
“Okay, just for a few hours. I can still get everything done for dinner if I start by noon,” she muttered, snuggling under the fluffy down comforter she insisted on using even when it was eighty degrees out in August. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I left the room, closing the door quietly behind me.
Birdie was just waking up by the time I got Fee settled. She stumbled to her feet when I came in, her arms reaching up for me. Bending down, I carried my daughter over to the glider we used to rock her in when she was a baby.
Birdie was a slow riser, it took her a bit to fully wake up. Her body was warm from sleep and her hair was sticking out every which way. I enjoyed the quiet moment with my daughter, gently rocking us as she snuggled into my chest.
“Did you have good dreams, baby girl?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She nodded into my chest as she tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes.
We read a book while she fully woke up before getting dressed and ready for the day.
While we were upstairs, I packed an overnight bag for Birdie as I sent a quick text to my parents.