Bonus Epilogue
Two years later
Thanksgiving Day
Knox
“Come here, baby girl,” Quincy said as she helped two-and-a-half-year-old Juniper out of her car seat.
“I not a baby, mama.”
“You’ll still be my baby even when you’re twenty.”
I grinned at the familiar exchange between the two as I grabbed the gear and our contribution to the meal and Quincy hoisted our daughter up into her arms, but I was preoccupied.
Today would be a memorable one. My father, Simon, and his wife, Faye, were hosting the entire Henry-North clan for Thanksgiving in their brand-spanking-new lake house.
In the two years since I’d moved to Dragonfly Lake, we’d all become a close-knit family who gathered at least one Sunday a month for dinner at Faye and my dad’s in Nashville.
So there would be teasing, bullshitting, and sharing a holiday meal, all with an underlying love and respect for each other that surpassed even my wildest dreams of what a big family could be like.
But…
There would be babies.
So many babies, including Cole and Sierra’s newborn daughter, Oakley.
Quincy and I had been trying to get pregnant since our wedding night a year and a half ago. Giving it our all, if I did say so myself.
At the one-year mark, nervous that maybe my age was the problem, I’d had testing done. To my relief, everything had come back okay, but we still weren’t knocked up.
Quincy had an appointment in two weeks to see if there was a physical reason for our struggles on her side. I knew she was nervous, afraid of what might be discovered.
With all the babies the Henrys and Norths had popped out, today would be like salt in the wound.
We walked toward the front door of the sprawling house on the shore, apparently among the first to arrive judging by the lack of cars—not a surprise at all since Quincy insisted on getting here early, as usual.
I put an arm around her to steady her and her thirty-pound Juniper load as we ascended the three steps to the front door.
“You doing okay?” I asked my wife, knowing full well what her answer would be.
“Of course. This place is so Faye, isn’t it?”
The house was a farmhouse-style two-story with six bedrooms, the largest dining room I’d ever seen, and an expansive patio on the lakeside. We’d visited last weekend, when they’d officially taken possession of the newly constructed home.
Neither Faye nor my father was the showy type, but they’d decided they wanted a second home on Dragonfly Lake so they’d have headquarters near their North grandchildren in Nashville and their Henry ones here.
Though this one would be used more in summer, Faye had insisted on hosting Thanksgiving to break it in.
“Mimi,” Juniper said at the mention of Faye, her eyes lit up as the door opened to us. “Mimiii! Papaaa!”
My dad greeted us warmly while Faye took June and showered her with kisses, making me smile as it always did.
Cash, Ava, and their eight-month-old daughter, Bronte, were in the open kitchen, the chef having volunteered to assist with the meal as he frequently did. He and Faye worked well together in the kitchen, with him bowing to her matriarch status and her respecting his food expertise in turn.
“Hey, you three,” Ava said, fatigue dulling her eyes. I knew Bronte still wasn’t sleeping through the night, and Ava and I had just come off a book release a few days ago and all the work that had entailed.
Quincy hugged Ava and kissed Bronte, then Ava carried Bronte to a playpen in the adjacent great room and lowered her into it. She whirled around and looked at me expectantly. “Did you see?”
“See what?” I asked as I set two bottles of wine on the counter.
“Our highest rankings yet on every one of the stores,” she said, beaming.
“The new book?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t thought to stalk the rankings since last night. We’d had Thanksgiving brunch with Quincy’s family this morning, and my mind had been on anything but work. When Ava nodded enthusiastically and recited some of our book’s numbers, I let out a whoop.
Quincy hugged me, then Ava, then my dad high-fived me, and Cash paused to give me a fist bump.
“Well deserved,” Faye said as she pulled something out of the oven.
Behind us, the door opened to a bluster of people. I glanced nervously at Quincy. She plastered on a big, happy smile as Drake hollered, “We’re here. Party can start now.”
He ushered in Mackenzie, who was six months pregnant with twin boys and looked like walking was uncomfortable. “Hey, everyone,” Mackenzie said, managing a grin that looked genuine.
Greetings were returned, and then Seth and Everly entered, with three-month-old Beckham in Everly’s arms, his eyes wide as he took in what was verging on a crowd.
Another glance at my wife revealed nothing except a smile, but I knew underneath that pretty smile there was sadness that we didn’t have a sibling for Juniper yet.
“Heavens,” Faye said as she deserted her post in the kitchen and rushed to hug the four adults, patted Mackenzie’s bulging belly, and then extended her arms toward her youngest grandson.
“Forget the food,” my dad said jovially. “The grandbaby parade is in full force.”
With Beckham in her arms, Faye turned toward the kitchen with an apologetic expression.
Cash waved her off. “I got this. Love on your babies.”
Holden and Chloe and their almost-two-year-old daughter, Sutton, were next, along with Hayden, Zane, and Harrison, who was three. The noise level increased at least tenfold when the littles who could walk screeched toward their Mimi and Papa and aunts and uncles.
My wife, bless her gorgeous heart, soldiered on and put herself in the middle of all of it, doling out hugs and kisses and high fives to everyone, and I joined in. It’d been a long time since I’d felt like an outsider, but I still relished being a part of this.
There was a lull in the arrivals, but that was the only kind of lull, as the great room, kitchen, and dining rooms filled with people and noise.
Juniper had followed Harrison and Sutton to the toy bin in the corner of the great room.
The trio was already pulling out books, cars, and stuffed animals.
The adults were helping themselves to beverages and the appetizers Hayden had set out on the island.
Over the next ten minutes, Gabe, Lexie, and three-year-old Wyatt showed up, and then Mason, Eliza, and their kids—Calvin, who was seven, Jasper, three, and Emery Rose, nine months old—made their not-so-quiet entrance.
There were more hugs and greetings and squeals to add to the crazy but incredible chaos.
I happened to be standing next to Zane and watching my wife across the room when the door opened again. I knew who it was without looking, since Sierra, Cole, and their newborn were the only ones who hadn’t arrived yet.
I was certain everyone in the room missed it except me: when Cole stepped inside with their daughter, Quincy’s lids lowered for a second longer than a blink, as if she was steeling herself.
My gut tightened into a knot as I wondered futilely yet again why we hadn’t been blessed with our own pregnancy.
As much as I wanted another child, I knew Quincy’s yearning was even stronger.
As she’d confided to me a week and a half ago after another appearance of her period, having a baby was her number one goal in life.
But it seemed to be the one thing she couldn’t have.
I wanted more than anything to give her that, to put a baby in her womb. I’d never felt so fucking powerless in my life.
Joining her at Cole’s side to admire his and Sierra’s daughter, I wrapped an arm around Quincy. Once she’d fawned over Oakley, she looked up at me and flashed a smile that didn’t quite hide her sadness. All I could do was hold on to her, so that’s what I did.
Quincy
I had no reason to feel melancholy. None.
I was surrounded by so many people I loved and who loved me. This extra-large double family truly was a blessing I sometimes couldn’t believe I’d lucked my way into.
And my own family… Cynthia and I had fully buried the hatchet, and I could even say I enjoyed spending time with her now. Brunch earlier at Ryan’s, with the Yates side, had been the best holiday I’d had with my immediate family since losing my mom.
Then there was Knox and Juniper, the loves of my life. My God, I was so stinking lucky to have them. How could I be sad about not having more children? How selfish was I?
But sitting here after a gigantic, plentiful, delicious meal, with Knox’s arm around me, Juniper in one of the bedrooms napping, and the rest of the family in clusters around the television, I couldn’t help it. My heart hurt so much I felt a little light-headed and sick at my stomach.
We were all focused on the TV, watching the holiday special episode of Historical Homes, the cable show Sierra had been a part of for several years.
This was her last episode, as she’d resigned from the weekly show once she’d become pregnant.
Her producer had convinced her to come back as soon as Oakley was born to film the idea that had been tossed around for the past couple of years—a holiday special that showcased some of Sierra’s residential remodeling projects that Hayden had decorated for the season.
The two made an unbeatable team. Everyone had oohed and aahed and complimented Sierra and Hayden throughout the show, which had just concluded.
As I glanced around, I couldn’t help noting all the babies.
So many babies. Most of them tucked in tight with their parents, creating clusters of three and four, but a couple upstairs, napping in cribs that Faye had ensured were in place and assembled first thing.
Drake was adorable and super attentive to pregnant Mackenzie, jumping up and retrieving whatever she needed, just like I knew Knox would if my abdomen were ever to be bulging with a baby.