Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Truck
“You’re quiet,” Archer said, reaching over the center console as he searched for my hand.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“About how we’re going to tell Lenni,” I said. “And if she’s going to be mad or not.”
He sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that too.”
“She might be mad, Archer. Like really mad.”
“She might.”
“She just found you, and now she’s got to share you with me and soon another sibling?”
“Or she might be really happy because she’s finally got a family and her family keeps getting bigger.” He looked at me and winced. “I’m prepared for the anger though.”
“Me too.”
“What if we bought her a horse and then sprung the news?” he asked.
“A bribe? You want to bribe your daughter with the tween gift equivalent of a car?”
“Tween? What the hell is a tween?”
“Literally Lenni’s current age. Not a teen. Not a child. And again, you want to bribe her with a horse?”
“You think that’s bad? You’re judging my parenting skills, or should I say lack thereof? Bribery equals bad, right?”
“Gray area,” I teased. “But once she knows she’s got us wrapped around her finger, we’re doomed. We have to at least pretend like we’re in control here. I don’t think buying her a preemptive pony is a good plan.”
“Got any other ideas?”
“Honesty.”
“Oh, that. I should’ve thought of that. Lenni’s going to turn into a parenting experiment, isn’t she? I mean, she’s the first run. She’ll probably be the most screwed up of our brood.”
“How fatalistic of you,” I joked. “Maybe we take it one day at a time when it comes to this parenting thing. As long as she’s happy and healthy . . .”
“Happy? She cut her own hair when her emotions got to be too much for her. And she’s already given a kid a black eye and broken her arm. She’s been with us for a month, Wyn. A month.”
“Kids are resilient.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m not just saying that to make us both feel better. But think about it this way: what was Lenni like when she first got here?”
“She bonded with you instantly,” he grumbled.
“She did. She warmed up to you fast, though. That means something.” We were silent for a moment and then my eyes widened. “Holy shit. I’m pregnant.”
Archer raised his brow. “Is that just hitting you now?”
“No. I mean, yes? It’s like falling asleep on the couch. You sleep hard and wake up all confused for a moment and then you remember where you are.”
He glanced down at my flat stomach. “Your Mom is going to be happy.”
“Yep.”
“What about your dad?”
I looked at him. “He might actually try and castrate you.”
He chuckled. “Then how will we ever have a big family?”
“You want a big family?” I asked.
“You don’t?”
“I don’t know how many kids I want,” I lied.
“Wyn.” He sighed.
“What?”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.” When he looked at me, I squirmed. “Fine, I’m lying. But it seems ridiculous to talk about how many kids we want when this one is the size of a chia seed.”
“Chia seed? No kidding. And now is the exact time to talk about it. People never talk about the hard things until after they get married and then they’re surprised when they don’t agree.”
“Hard things,” I repeated. “What sort of hard things?”
“Well, how many kids we want to have for one. Two, where I’m taking you on our honeymoon. Three, what kind of house I’m building you.”
I laughed. “You’re glossing over all the actual hard stuff. Like finances, for example.”
“I’ve got more than enough money to take care of you and as many rug rats as you want. Next.”
“Not next. Let’s stay on that topic for a moment. What about me? What about me and what I contribute financially?”
“You don’t have to contribute anything unless you want to.” He shrugged. “My point is you don’t need to worry about it.”
I was silent for a moment as I looked out the truck window. “You really want to build us a house?”
“Of course I do.”
I bit my lip. “It has to have a screened in porch and a porch swing bed. Big enough to sprawl out on. Big enough for Lenni and Mildred. And you and me at night when it’s raining and we want to listen to the patter of raindrops on the roof.”
“I’m sold. What else do you want in this house of ours?” he inquired.
“A guest cottage. For my parents.”
“Done.”
“Two floors. High ceilings. Crown molding.”
“Fancy.”
“I grew up in New York. I have a thing for New England architecture.”
“So, a lot of brick and wood, got it.”
“A big kitchen. The kitchen needs to be the center of the house. The hearth, yeah? Oh, and a wood burning stove and—”
“Make a list, Wyn,” he said. “And I’ll make it happen.”
I grabbed my phone.
“You still didn’t tell me how many babies you want,” he said. “I’d like a rough guesstimate. How far apart in age do you want them?”
“How many do you want?” I pivoted.
“That’s not how this is gonna work.”
“I can’t decide how many babies I want without your input,” I said in exasperation.
“Sure you can.” He grinned. “I’ll help make them. Enthusiastically. I’ll help raise them. I’ll teach them how to defend themselves and protect them with my life. But you, woman, are the deciding factor for how many children we get to have.”
“So, if I said I only want this one,” I placed my hand on my belly, “and Lenni, you’d be okay with that?”
“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“I don’t have any siblings,” I said. “It was nice, having my parents’ undivided attention. But then I also got stuck with my parents’ undivided attention . . .”
He chuckled.
“I didn’t know what it was like having sisters,” I whispered. “But Poet, Salem and Hadley . . . they’re my sisters. I want Lenni to have sisters. I know you wanted boys, but maybe you could talk to your sperm and give us a nice mix?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Four,” I said, straightening my spine. “I want four. In addition to Lenni.”
“Five is a good number. We can start a band. We’ll be like the Partridge Family.”
“Dibs on playing the tambourine.”
“It’s yours,” he said. “But only if you wear a mini skirt. You’ve got great legs. In fact, it was one of the first things I noticed about you.”
“You charmer,” I quipped. “And I want them no more than two years apart.”
“We’re going to be exhausted,” he stated. “What with your great legs wrapped around me constantly.”
I nodded. “Very exhausted.”
He looked at me, his gaze tender. “And very happy.”
Archer placed a hand on my stomach, and I covered it with my own.
“When can I start talking to your belly? I want the baby to know my voice.”
Warmth gushed through me.
“About six months,” I said.
“Good. Gives me enough time to think about what I’m going to say to her.”
“Oh, it’s a her?”
“For the purpose of this conversation? Yes, it’s a girl.”
“What will you say to her?”
“I will tell her boys only want one thing.”
“Oh good, start it young,” I said with an eye roll. “There is something to be said for being too strict, you know. We don’t want her sneaking out, lying, all that fun stuff.”
“You be quiet,” he said. “I’m coming up with talking points.”
“Sorry, continue.” I smiled at him.
He rubbed small circles on my belly.
When he was silent, I prodded, “Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
I bit my lip to stop my laugh at his concerned expression.
“So, there’s the boys only want one thing conversation,” he began. “And the if you do find a boy, how to tell if he’s the right one conversation.”
“How do you tell if he’s the right one?” I asked.
He looked at me. “You just know. And I’ll tell her that I knew I loved her mother from the moment I met her.”
Tears came to my eyes. “Oh no.”
He grinned. “How am I doing?”
“Pretty damn good,” I admitted. “You’re going to be a good dad. Because you already are.”
He took his hand off my belly and turned his attention back to the road. “I still think we should buy Lenni a horse.”