Epilogue—Part Two #2
His big eyes stared up at me as I continued to tell him about his mom and sister, and he eventually wiggled an arm free from his swaddle.
I had no idea how much I missed the baby grip on my finger until the first time he grabbed my offered finger.
I could feel my eyes filling with tears, but there was a small pang of guilt that I got to have this moment with him while Appa was still under the knife.
She was loopy, smelled faintly of antiseptic, and was slightly confused when she finally came out of surgery. There was no way she could hold him at first, so I carefully sat on the edge of her hospital bed and showed him to her.
“You did a good job, baby,” I whispered to her.
“He’s like Em.” Her voice was hoarse.
“Just like her.”
“He’s probably getting hungry.” Appa’s voice draws me back to the moment.
We’re staying with my parents temporarily while Appa recovers, and my mom is unsurprisingly excited about having her grandchildren around a bit more.
Appa brought Ember over here almost daily during the week normally, though, before Luca’s birth.
My mom made up one of their guest rooms to be Ember’s room, which was incredibly handy when Appa and I went on some solo trips, including a babymoon to Hawaii four months ago.
“Yeah, probably. Do you have your pillow?” I ask.
“Yep.”
I carefully lift Luca off my shoulder and stand to pass him to her.
It was important to her to try nursing this go-around since she didn’t with Ember, and I was worried it would be too much all at once.
She had become a quick pro at it, though, and I just made sure her water bottle was always full and had a snack nearby.
I’ve been trying to avoid asking Appa how she’s feeling because I feel like it reminds her that she’s recovering, but it’s hard not to hover. I sigh and look over at our cars in the driveway. I laugh lightly under my breath.
“Remember the first time we came here, and you couldn’t believe the Escalades? Look at you now,” I joke.
She shrugs. “Well, I needed a mom car.” And her Escalade was a beautiful mom car—red exterior with blacked-out rims and decals. She’s prouder that she bought it on her own. “I don’t see you driving anything other than that damn Tesla.”
I snort. “It’s paid off, and our solar panels charge it for free. Can’t complain.”
“Is it too much for just two kids, though?” she asks, referring to her car.
“My mom’s is too much,” I joke.
“Maybe we should get a dog,” she mumbles. “Like a big dog. A Saint Bernard or something.”
I grin because I always let her win. “Whatever you want, baby. Once you’re recovered.”
“Right.” She puts her face in her hand. “Ugh, I wish…I wish I had my mom here,” Appa says.
I stay quiet. I know she doesn’t mean it.
It’s the hormones talking. Her mom is something else.
She showed up when Ember was a newborn and complained about how hard it was to get to Napa from Savannah.
Her mom took one look at me and decided I wasn’t who she envisioned for Appa, but I know I treat Appa better than her brothers treat their wives.
Appa was convinced that her mom was jealous of her Escalade and lifestyle with me, like she owed her mom something.
“Apple Pie, you can’t move to Napa with some guy. You’ll get pregnant, and he’ll leave you,” her mom said when Appa told her about our plans to move to Napa before she got pregnant with Ember.
Fucking manipulative.
I can only smirk now, thinking back to that.
She was half-right. Appa got pregnant, but I never left and would never leave her side.
Through it all, I’ve been here. Every painful period, her pregnancy symptoms, her postpartum bleeding and blues, and now, her recovery.
Her mom only ever appeared once, and when Appa told her about her planned hysterectomy over the phone, her mom just said Appa was too young for that. She never watched Appa suffer.
? ? ?
“Bath time,” I say to Ember after dinner.
“Bath!” Ember squeals in delight.
“Clean up your toys and say goodnight to Mommy,” I instruct Ember.
Appa kept our house so neat that her habits brushed off onto Ember.
She was meticulous about putting toys away, usually without being told, and I wanted to keep my parents’ house as tidy as possible.
Not that my mom would ever mind some toddler messes.
She walks over to Appa, now lounging on the couch in the living room under the same blanket with Luca pressed against her chest. “Night, Mommy. Night, Luca,” Ember says.
“Night, big girl.” She pauses and inspects Ember’s curls. “Don’t forget her detangling spray,” Appa tells me. Honestly, she could tell me to jump off a cliff, and I would for her. Some, like Enzo, might call me whipped, but I’m a damn good husband.
“I won’t.”
Ember is a water bug, already asking when the pool will be warm enough to swim in, but for now, bath time is her favorite activity, complete with toys and crayons designed to rinse away.
It takes forever because she wants to play for so long, and then I have to comb out her hair.
I miss Appa for this part; she’s gentler and seems to have an easier time brushing through Ember’s locks.
“Why are we here?” Ember asks while I comb her hair after getting her in her pajamas.
“So, Nonna and Nonno can help take care of you and Mom,” I answer.
“I miss home.”
“I do, too, but this is home away from home.” Ember shrugs. “I’ll take you by the house tomorrow if you want to get anything.”
“Kay. When are we going home?”
I know she doesn’t mind the attention from her grandparents. She’s a quintessential little girl who likes to ask far too many questions in a day, and my mom has the patience to answer them all. But every so often, guilt rocks through me that her normal routine has been disrupted by not being home.
“Just a few more days.”
And it’s true. I took a two-month family leave from work, and once Appa is through the worst of her recovery and mostly back on her feet, we’ll be back at home while she finishes healing.
After pajama time, I read Ember a story.
She’s really into animals right now, which I prefer to princesses, but I know it’s only a matter of time.
When Appa is her normal self, she takes Ember to nail appointments where Ember gets her nails painted and loves every minute, and I’ve already found Ember trying on Appa’s shoes and playing with her handbags.
“Goodnight, Evie.” I kiss the top of Ember’s head and tuck her in. She turns and snuggles her favorite stuffed animal.
Never grow up.
I walk out of Ember’s room and look over the railing to the downstairs. My folks are still up, but Appa must have gone to bed. “Night, Mom, Dad,” I call out.
They both look up. “Goodnight, Robby. I helped Appa up,” Mom says.
“Thanks, Mom.”
I turn and walk down to my childhood bedroom. The lights are dimmed, and I find Appa lying on her back on her side of the bed with Luca asleep in his bedside bassinet.
Please sleep, Luca.
These newborn trenches are no joke. I shut the door behind me and immediately draw my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. My pants are next to go, leaving me just in my briefs. Appa looks me up and down, admiring the view, I’m sure.
“Did Ember go down okay?” she asks.
I slip into bed next to her under the sheet, and she eases onto her side to suction-cup to me. She winces a little, but her expression quickly changes to relief at my body heat. I used to wince at the difference in our temperatures, but I welcome these moments.
“Yeah, I think so,” I answer. I drape my free arm over her soft shoulders and hold her to me.
“You’re so warm,” she moans.
“I know, baby. I still need to brush my teeth.”
“Fuck it,” she mumbles into my chest.
The only times she didn’t want my body heat were late in both pregnancies.
I loved the nights she used me as a body pillow, resting her belly on my abs, especially when I could feel the baby kicking and punching while Appa tried to rest. But as her due date neared both times, the amount of physical touch decreased understandably.
She also kept the house in the sixties and still teased me about being so bundled in sweatshirts, and Ember couldn’t understand why the house was suddenly so cold in spring.
“This reminds me of the first time you got to experience one of my periods with me,” Appa whispers.
Fuck, that was a Rook moment.
Which only happens in a blue moon now.
But that was a night I needed to let my Robby-ness shine through Rook’s bullshit because that’s what it was.
That night was a turning point we desperately needed for our relationship.
I never meant to be that guy, and God, I was damned lucky she wanted the real me.
Five years and two kids later, I’ve never believed in fate more.
Appa tilts her face up from my chest, one brow cocked. “Don’t forget… he’s only retired.”
The End