Epilogue
A FEW MONTHS LATER
DAISY
“So …” I begin, waiting for my husband to follow me into the house. Juniper’s claws tick against the floor as she leads me on, but I spin around to face Landry. “Whatever shall we do now?”
“Hmm. I suppose we could …” He pauses and looks up as he kicks off his shoes, then tilts his head from side to side as he pretends to weigh our options. “I don’t know, make a baby?”
I grin widely as he lunges forward to scoop me up into his arms, and my service dog yips excitedly and circles his feet. I almost feel guilty telling her to stand down, but she obediently treks to her kennel and drops to her belly, flopping her tongue out and wagging her tail contentedly as she watches us go on down the hallway.
“I hope you don’t mind, but it’s my first time, so I might need a little more direction than you’re used to,” I drawl, batting my eyelashes at Landry. “And you are the director of first-time experiences, aren’t you?”
“Your first time?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow as he walks us toward our shared bedroom. “Last I checked, Mrs. Reed, that ship has sailed. In fact, I, myself, have captained numerous excursions since her maiden voyage. And I must say, she’s my favorite ride.” I toss my head back as I erupt in a fit of giggles, and Landry smiles down at me, pleased with himself.
“Yes, but I’ve never tried making a baby before,” I say once I settle myself. “Well, at least not on purpose.”
“Ah, well, that makes two of us,” he admits as he sets me down gently on the bed then lies down beside me. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks after a while, staring at me with more love and adoration in his eyes than I could have ever hoped for.
I let out a long exhale. We’ve just returned from my neurologist’s office after getting a green light for trying to conceive. I’ve been seizure-free for the past few months, only having one more minor episode since I first moved to Camellia, and my neurologist agreed that conditions are ideal for a safe and healthy pregnancy. Living with a seizure response dog and a medical doctor while having a maternal-fetal medicine specialist and a midwife in the family all help, too.
Landry’s also been going to therapy to learn how to manage his anxiety, something he insisted on doing to prepare for fatherhood, and I can already see the difference it’s made for him.
“I’m ready,” I reassure him, reaching up to cradle his cheek in my hand. “But … what if it doesn’t happen right away, you know?”
He shakes his head gently. “It’s okay if it takes a while, right? There’s no rush, and I certainly wouldn’t mind putting in overtime.”
I smirk at him. “I know, but what if it never happens at all?”
“Hey, you are going to be a mama one way or another, okay? If we don’t get pregnant right away, we’ll move forward with the adoption plans. And if we’re lucky enough to have a baby or two now?—”
“Blessed?” I correct him.
“If we’re blessed with a baby now, we can still adopt later,” he finishes.
It’s the plan we agreed upon during our marriage prep classes a few months ago, before our second wedding.
We’d told the rest of our family about our arrangement just after Christmas, but it hadn’t taken Landry long to decide we were ready to have our legal marriage convalidated in the Church. We’d barely made it through a week of living apart before he surprised me with a smushy proposal, and a day later we were meeting with Father Conrad to plan a ceremony. Luckily, the priest was quite amendable, especially with our NFP instructor putting in a good word for us, and we were able to get our sacramental wedding and move back in together before the start of lent.
By then, Landry had already bought a plot of farmland on the outskirts of town and insisted I trade in my lesson plans for blueprints. In between volunteering at school and the hospital and babysitting the twins as needed, Juniper and I spend our time planning our very own Reed family homestead. It’s not going to be as big as the one I grew up on, but it is perfectly situated beside two other large plots, both of which now belong to the Bourgeois clan. Landry and I are still hoping to entice Rowan to take the empty acreage on the opposite side of us, but that’s a whole other story.
I nod at Landry, thinking about how much fun it will be to watch our future children run from one house to the next alongside their cousins. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
He grins and drags a finger over my arm. “And you feel up to getting started right now?”
“I don’t see why not,” I say casually, though his eyelids get heavy as soon as I reach over and begin unbuttoning his shirt.
He swallows hard, his eyes locked onto mine as I work. “Need help with those buttons, Blondie?”
“Are you worried I’ll get one of them caught in your chest hair?” I tease, and the corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk.
“What chest hair?” he asks, and I pull back his shirt to reveal a patch of smooth skin. I reach out to stroke it and look up at him in confusion, making him laugh.
“What did you do?”
“What does it look like I did? I shaved it. For you.”
“For me?”
“Well, yeah. I had a feeling we’d get this opportunity before the end of the day, so I thought I’d do something special to celebrate,” he explains shyly.
“So you completely shaved off your chest hair?”
He shrugs. “And a few other places.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m afraid to see what the shower looks like now.”
“Why are you worried about the shower when I did all this glorious manscaping for you?” he asks, sitting up to remove his shirt completely. “Don’t you see how much I love you?”
I smile and graze my hand over his stomach. “I love you, too. And although I appreciate your efforts, if I’m being honest, I like you hairy and … wolfy.”
He growls. “Do you?”
“Didn’t I tell you I had a thing for the Big Bad Wolf?” I continue, moving to kneel in front of him. He hums when I lean in to kiss him.
“Too bad I’ve always had a crush on Rapunzel and not Little Red Riding Hood,” he replies, sliding his hands around my hips and holding me in front of him.
“Rapunzel, you say?”
“You’d probably think it’s a hair fetish, and I certainly wouldn’t rule it out completely,” he begins, tossing my long locks over my back before he slides one of my sleeves down and bares my shoulder. “But those big, green eyes and those sexy freckles …” He pauses to let out a low groan before planting his lips on my neck while his free hand slips beneath the hem of my dress. “I can’t tell you how many of my fantasies start just like this.” He nips at another spot on my shoulder, and I know he’s kissing the way down his favorite trail.
“And how do the rest of these dreams of yours go?” I ask, my breathing growing more labored by the second, especially with his fingertips tracing another one of his favorite road maps.
“They all have a very happy ending,” he mumbles against my skin. “But that’s probably because I’m such an optimist.”
I can’t help but chuckle out loud. “Oh, so it’s all rainbows and unicorns with you, is it?”
“More like … sunshine and daisies,” he says before he brings his mouth back to mine.
Thanks for reading!