Epilogue Three
TO: Aria Cross-Brodie
FROM: Miles Brodie (personal)
RE: NAMES
Dear Mrs. Brodie,
As per our discussion:
1. While I am truly ecstatic that you will be giving birth to our son five months from now and will always cherish the Malibu beach where I first saw you and your beautiful smile and toe ring and ass, I must object to naming Macy’s future brother “Zuma.”
Seriously? You were joking, right? “Zuma Joseph Cross Brodie, Esquire?” I don’t think so.
2. If that’s your real #1 choice for a boy name, then I would like to put forth the suggestion: Okay. As in, people will be like, “Are you Okay?” And he’ll be all, “Yeah. I’m Okay. Nice to meet you.”
3. What are we getting Macy as an opening night present?
Love,
The man who loves you so please don’t yell at me
P.S. Go ahead and yell at me because you are adorable when you yell at me.
TO: Miles Brodie (Personal)
FROM: Aria Cross-Brodie
RE: Not Okay
Dear Asshole Who Knocked Me Up,
1. Zuma will not be a lawyer of any kind, and you should know from my current hormonal state that I am serious, sad, furious, and right about absolutely everything.
2. Okay is not okay. I am sort of thrilled that your brain actually manufactured that thought, but not enough to be convinced or in any way charmed by your stubborn ridiculousness.
3. Please stop by any grocery store of your choosing on the way home and bring me the following items: beef jerky, mint chocolate chip ice cream, barbecue potato chips, mango juice, and sauerkraut.
Do not question the rationale of my cravings and do not bother coming home with a bag of baked vegetable chips “as a healthy alternative,” because I am carrying your spawn and I need crispy potato snacks. Huge bags of them.
4. I am not going to apologize for being so moody, (particularly because I agreed to forego surfing while carrying your spawn—in order to assuage your fears—regardless of the consequences to my emotional wellbeing) and you need to stop laughing at me and telling me how adorable I am when I yell at you, because I am a very successful grown woman who wrote and directed a long-running Broadway musical—and that is not cute.
5. I’m knitting Macy a scarf for her opening night gift, but the yarn is being an asshole.
6. I can’t remember if I paid the gardener this month. The bank website thing was being an asshole.
7. I’m sorry if I’ve created yet more problems for you to solve, but as I mentioned earlier—I’m carrying your spawn and everything is an asshole.
Thank you for your attention to these matters,
The woman you married who is carrying your spawn
P.S. I love you and stop arguing with me and if you ever leave me or don’t come home with potato chips soon, I swear to God, I will murder you.
TO: Aria Cross-Brodie
FROM: Miles Brodie (Personal)
RE: I’m laughing because of you, not at you
How have you known me for this long and still not learned that I’m not arguing with you?
I am merely explaining that I’m right, in as many different ways as I have to, until you come to the same conclusion.
But, as always, before that happens—I will realize that you were, indeed, right all along.
The thing I have been most right about, in fact, is how right you are.
And I’m not just saying that because I want to get into your sexy maternity pants—which you fill out so magnificently, it makes me want to cry.
You were never a collection of problems that needed to be solved, Aria. You were the solution.
I love you. I’m never leaving you. I really love this very special side of your very special personality (no, really, I do).
I have only two more questions for you, my very special, beloved wife:
1. Am I gonna get into your maternity pants tonight, or what?
2. Regular or kettle chips?
All my love (which is more than anyone ever thought possible),
Miles