Epilogue
LYNN
* Five Years Later *
“Oh, sweetie. The potting soil goes on the ground, not in your mouth.”
Thank goodness I'm a naturally patient person. Gardening with a toddler is a testing exercise in repeating myself a million times.
Over the past five years, Ansel and I have slowly been turning the far end of our massive backyard into a wildflower meadow, with small trees around the perimeter. Slightly raised beds hold vegetable gardens closer to the house.
It's our own slice of paradise, and we love it.
But a few weeks ago I made the mistake of letting our almost three-year-old son eat a leaf from a mint plant, telling him it came from the garden. Now Jaden has been trying to put everything in the yard into his mouth, from the dirt to the rocks to the buttercups.
At least he's been better at eating small bites of broccoli lately; all I have to do is tell him that it came from the back yard. Or, as he puts it, "Dirt, dirt, dirt!"
"Where is my adorable family?" Ansel's booming voice rings out as he comes around the side of the house carrying yet another small tree.
"Daddy!"
My gorgeous husband barely has time to set the four-foot tree down before our son barrels into him, expecting a massive hug. Which he always gets. Ansel is the most loving, caring father and husband I could have ever dreamed of.
"Is that tree for the gap in the back corner?" I ask, as Ansel swings Jaden around like an airplane.
"Yeah. Then I think our tree fence is done for now." He cradles Jaden, rumpling his hair by rubbing the top of his head against my shoulder. "What's for dinner, Sparky?"
"Spinach!" He starts laughing and wriggling so hard that Ansel has to set him down so he can run around in circles for a few minutes to burn off some steam.
"What toddler loves spinach?" Ansel whispers.
"It's my new secret weapon. If I let him pick it himself, he's all over it. He was putting everything else in his mouth anyway. Now he's excited to have green leafy toys on a plate."
Jaden begins examining the new tree, where it lies on its side on the lawn, its roots wrapped in burlap. While he's distracted, Ansel pulls me against him. "And what about you? Did you eat your spinach today?" he asks.
I raise an eyebrow saucily. "I had enough to get all revved up like Popeye, if that's what you mean."
"Oh, that's what I mean." His hand glides down my spine to firmly grab my ass. I watch his gorgeous hazel-green eyes carefully as he asks, "Did you see the doctor today?"
"Yes, and according to the growth charts, Jaden is likely to be nearly as tall as his daddy. Plus, he got a strawberry candy for being good."
"Did you discover anything else?"
Ansel holds me close, almost holding his breath. I'm terrible for drawing this moment out a few seconds longer, but the glow in his eyes is incredible. So much love. All for me, and our growing family.
"Yes. I'm seven weeks along."
I'd almost consider having more than two children just to see that light in his eyes and the expression of utter joy across his handsome features again.
Ansel kisses me gently, as if he's afraid to break me. "I love you so much, baby," he murmurs. Then he falls to his knees, holding me against him as he kisses a circle around my stomach over my yoga pants and baggy t-shirt.
"I love you, too," I laugh, stroking his hair.
Jaden stops moving branches around and comes over, so Ansel scoops him up into his arms as he stands. "Sparky, we're going to make dinner more often so that Mommy can rest."
"Okay!"
"Wanna start right now?"
"Okay!" It was our agreeable little man's favorite word…well, most of the time.
"You don't have to baby me, you know," I say as we walk toward the patio doors.
"But it's one of my favorite things." He grins, then turns serious. "If I go a little overboard, say something."
Ansel really did go a bit far the first time I was pregnant, and I had to speak up several times. But thanks to his constant love and care, it's easy for me to speak my mind now.
"Don't worry, handsome. I will."