Epilogue #2
When I get to Wilder, standing guard over Sage to make sure the ground doesn’t hurt his precious daughter again, he wraps an arm around me and kisses my head.
Rory, however, has blades in her eyes. “That was by far the nastiest diaper I have ever changed in my life, Alexis.” Somehow she makes every syllable in my name sound like a curse word, but it isn’t with any heat behind it.
I shrug at her from under my husband’s arm. “We have to change three times as many as you guys ever did. Besides, it’s good to keep you grounded.”
She shakes her head slowly. “That was payback, wasn’t it?”
For a flash, a memory surfaces. Of me and baby Ella, a nuclear diaper when I had no kids of my own. A vow of payback was mentioned. I manage to hold back my laugh. “I can’t control what’s in those diapers, you know that.”
“I’m not offering again for the rest of the night,” Rory insists, walking toward her daughter who outgrew stinky diapers years ago.
My first thought is that she’s lucky, but then I pick up Sage and I want this phase to last forever. Stinky diapers and all.
“Food’s ready,” Wilder reminds everyone, and the adults start to make their way to the table.
“Where are they?” Rory asks, looking to the woods bordering the clearing.
“They left right after you took Sage,” I tell her. “Montana needed a change of clothes, but she only wanted mommy.”
“Of course,” Rory says, nodding, because that’s the stage Montana has been in the past month.
“But Weston went with her,” I start, and Rory finishes that sentence for me with a knowing look.
“Because he’s Weston and his wife is seven months pregnant and he won’t leave her side in case she needs him.”
“Exactly.”
Rustling noises from the woods behind us get louder, and as if they were summoned, come the three Gradys.
Amelia, nearly waddling from how huge she is with her third pregnancy, Montana leading her by one finger through the pathway, and Weston bringing up the rear, ready to catch any slips or trips from either of his girls.
“Big Momma!” I call over to her, but Amelia drops her head.
“It’s not ironic these days, Lex. I’m just a huge mother now.”
We both laugh, but Amelia at full-term pregnancy is still about my size normally. She’s literally the world’s cutest pregnant woman, while I’m about to turn into a whale-shaped banshee for the third time.
Amelia and Weston make it to the table and take a seat on the bench across from me, while Montana, who’s just a few weeks apart in age from Blaise, takes her time looking around the huge clearing and play space for what she wants to do next.
The boys are still playing with toy trucks, but they’ve moved out of the sandbox and into a pile of dirt. The girls are still coloring under the shade of the patio.
Montana takes off for the girls.
Wyatt helps her settle in, and I see him check in with each girl at the table before heading back to the table to rejoin his wife and the rest of us. Probably just his wife.
“Dig in,” Wilder tells everyone, gesturing to the table.
“Is this your world famous handmade stuffed gnocchi?” Weston asks, and I watch as Wilder’s eyes light up.
“I don’t know about world famous, but we’re getting there.” He winks at me, and helps serve everyone.
I wait until all of our family has had a chance to get their drinks, and take a few bites before speaking up.
“It’s a good thing you sat over there, Amelia. I’m starting to think you’re contagious.”
Her teal eyes dart up to mine and freeze on me.
Weston and Wyatt both keep eating, but after a few seconds, Weston puts down his fork.
“You’re not…?” He doesn’t bother finishing the question.
It’s my sister I’m waiting to hear from. On instinct, my eyes find her rich brown ones, and she reads me in a flash, mouth popping open. “I thought you were done?” Rory spits out, not being rude, just honest.
“I thought I was.” I punctuate the statement with a glare at my husband.
He lifts one shoulder at me, rolling off the accusation. “It’s not my fault you don’t like me to pull out.”
Grumbles from around the table don’t stop me from responding. “It kind of is, actually.”
Amelia giggles, but Wyatt shuts us down with a loud, grumpy, “TMI.”
Weston leans forward, elbows on the table, and asks, “You have heard of condoms, right?”
My eyes narrow on the younger Grady brother. “You’re one to talk.”
The older Grady brother speaks up again. “Aren’t you too old?”
I wouldn’t say Wyatt has gotten softer with time, at least not with anyone but his wife and daughter, but there isn’t malice behind his words. Just the same blunt guy I’ve always known.
I sniff, raising my chin slightly. “I’ll be the same age as Gwen Stefani when she had her last child.”
Wilder’s arm comes around my side, holding me tight as he kisses the side of my head.
“You’ll be perfect,” ring two voices in unison. I look up to see Amelia’s cheeks nearly splitting from her smile, and my sister’s eyes watering with joy.
“Let’s just hope it isn’t twins again,” I mutter.
“I hope it’s triplets,” Weston says, a gleam shining at me from his eyes. I think he’s joking?
“Spoken like someone who doesn’t have a vagina they’ve ever pushed a human through,” Rory retorts, and my heart surges for her. When she uses her words like a battle axe for me, I think that might be my love language.
“Whatever it is, we’ll be here for you,” Amelia cuts in over the bickering between two of her favorite people.
“You’d better be. This is the second time I’ve gotten pregnant after you, I’m starting to think you’re cursing me.”
Amelia rolls her eyes, then lets out a soft laugh. “If anyone is cursing your uterus, it’s your husband’s monster dong.”
“Monster?” Wilder pulls his head back and looks down at me. “Did you call my soldier a monster? Aw, bella, I’m flattered.”
Wyatt fakes retching over the side of the table as Weston laughs.
The congratulations pour in from around the table, some more enthusiastic than others, and I laugh, ready for the attention to be on anything but me after all this.
“Are you telling the parents soon?” Rory asks, eyes locked on mine.
“This weekend,” I tell her. Our mid-week family night is just our generation and our kids, but Sunday nights? This place gets wild, with all of our remaining parents joining us, plus Gracie, Ronnie, and their kids as well.
But I want to tell Mom too. Still holding my sister’s stare, I ask her the question silently.
She nods, and I know she’ll be there with me. We visit her regularly these days, and like most things in our lives, it’s always easier when we do it together.
“Let’s feed the kids,” I shout, standing from the table and being joined by everyone around me.
Wilder jumps to his feet and presents tonight’s kid’s dinner, voice booming across the clearing so the kids can hear.
“Today we’ve got a carnivore-inspired dish, crispy poulet bites, sculpted and artfully presented with an heirloom tomato reduction.
” His hand waves to one side of the table, where dinosaur chicken nuggets wait with a mound of ketchup.
“Dude, that’s just chicken nuggets,” Weston says, shaking his head.
“You can call it that when you make it,” Wilder tells him, and Weston laughs.
“Din!” Sage is the first child to react, jumping from her seat and racing toward the table. Wilder scoops her up mid-stride, probably keeping her from falling again, and he carries her like an airplane over to the food.
Poppy toddles after her, much softer and gentler, still with a crayon in hand.
Those two are as different as my sister and I were, and I hope they love each other just as much as we do.
And if they go through rough times together?
I hope they know waiting on the other side is something even sweeter.
Blaise takes rounding up, not wanting to leave the pile of dirt he’s been working on with his bulldozer, but his big cousin Axle convinces him to come eat and then they’ll go back to playing.
Montana and Ella round out the group, holding hands on their way, their moms on either side of them.
And me? I relish this moment as another that’s better than I thought I’d ever have.
Surrounded by more love than I knew was possible. Heart so full I worry it can’t keep up.
And it’s only getting better with time.