70. Eli
Eli
“Are you going to tell me all the details to your multistep plan, or are you just going to drag me along to everything and make me do manual labor when you need it?” Rem asks as we unload painting supplies into Kendra’s spare bedroom.
“Some of the plans are top secret,” I say.
“Thought we weren’t gonna keep secrets from each other anymore.” Rem raises an eyebrow at me.
“Low-fucking-blow, asshole. You know that this is not the same thing at all. And neither was that.”
That being my secret relationship with Kendra and the fact that I had been in love with her for nearly a decade and didn’t tell him. Yeah, I guess he is still a little sore about the whole thing and is going to poke at me about it whenever he can. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.
“And you’re positive this is a good idea? That Kendra is going to be okay with us turning this room into a nursery for Wren?” Rem rubs the back of his neck.
“You are such a worrywart. This is a step in the plan. I want to be here with Kendra. She loves the cabin, and I don’t care about my house.
It was just a place to go after I had Wren and needed out of that tiny-ass apartment.
This is a home. I want it to be our home.
” I carefully pour pink paint into the tray.
“Okay, but is it what Kendra wants?”
“Yes, I think so. She just won’t make the first move, won’t ask for what she wants.” I dip the roller in and put the first pass of color on the wall—no going back now.
“That doesn’t really sound like Kendra.” Rem laughs.
“She is excellent at bossing people around and organizing shit. But when it comes to Wren, she holds back. I think she feels like she can’t take over the way she is used to because she is not her biological mother, doesn’t have ‘legal’ say over anything.
The hospital situation made that crystal clear, and it was hard.
” I push on the roller with more force than necessary thinking about it.
“I’m sorry, man, that sucks. But really, she is basically Wren’s mom. She’s with her all the time, you guys parent her together. She just has to see it that way.”
I tap my finger against my temple. “All part of the multistep plan, brother.”
Rem throws his head back in laughter. “What the hell did you do?”
“I’m playing the long game, and I plan to fucking win.”
“Welcome home!” I yell to Kendra as she walks in her kitchen door a few days later. I twist off a small confetti popper with golden paper and sparkling stars and she laughs.
“I was only at the pottery and home goods fair with Sutton for a week.” Kendra smirks, trying to contain her enjoyment of my enthusiasm.
There is a Welcome Home banner, pink and gold balloons, a huge bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island, sugar cookies I special ordered from the Sugar Cube, and Wren clapping her hands in the high chair next to the table.
“A week is too fucking long, we missed you.” I wrap her in my arms, kissing her sweet lips and enjoying the taste of her berry ChapStick.
“Hulk! Baby ears,” Kendra scolds me.
“I know, sorry.” I glance over at Wren, who’s oblivious and banging a toy on her tray, making cereal puffs fly to the floor in her own personal display of baby confetti.
Kendra laughs, her grin lighting up the room as she makes her way over, taking up Wren in a big hug telling her, “I missed you so much, peanut. Did you have fun with Dada?”
Wren looks at Kendra, two tiny baby teeth making her grin impossibly more cute. “Mama,” Wren says.
Wide-eyed, Kendra looks at Wren, then me, then back to Wren. “What the eff did she just say to me?”
“Mama, Mama!” Wren says again, snuggling into Kendra and kicking her little feet.
“Holy-fucking-shit,” Kendra says, turning to me with tears in her eyes.
“Sweetheart!” I playfully chastise her for swearing.
“Why is she saying that, Eli?” Kendra whispers, panic in her tone.
“Why wouldn’t she say that?” I cross my arms, lean back on the island, and watch her sway with Wren, rubbing Wren’s back soothingly even in the midst of her own internal panic.
“Because, because I’m not,” she says lamely.
“Yes you are.”
“Eli.”
“Kendra.” I narrow my eyes at her.
She sighs and squeezes her eyes shut.
“Look at you right now. You have been mothering Wren since she was born.” I walk over, wrap them both in my arms, and she looks at me.
“Really?”
“Really. Who knows her routine? All her favorite things?”
“Both of us,” she says.
“Right. Because we are parenting her. Together,” I say firmly.
She stares at me, lost for words.
“And who can settle her the best at night when she is extra fussy and cutting a new tooth?”
“Me,” Kendra admits.
“And who is Wren most excited to see in the mornings?” I pretend to be annoyed.
Kendra smiles. “Me.”
“And who organizes all her things when she outgrows clothes, plans her schedule, brings her to the fire station to see me?”
“Me,” Kendra whispers.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Because you are her mother. Maybe not through DNA or written on a piece of paper, but in here”—I lay my hand on her heart—“where it matters. You are her mom, and she knows it. She lives in your light, the glow of your love every single day, just like me. And we are so damn lucky.”
Kendra sucks in a breath and cries, and I pull both my girls close, kissing each of them on the tops of their heads.
“Hulk, I swear I’ve never called myself that to her.” Kendra looks at me totally flustered, like she somehow tricked Wren into saying it.
I shake us with my laughter, and she shoves at me.
“Seriously!”
“Ask me what her middle name is.”
“Huh?” Confusion wrinkles her brow.
“Do you know what Wren’s middle name is?” I ask Kendra.
A look of horror melts her face, tears coming fast to her stormy-blue eyes. “I am the worst mom ever, I don’t even know my baby’s middle name.”
“I’ve never told you her middle name, sweetheart. Purposefully.”
“Why?” Kendra shifts Wren expertly to her hip and we make our way into the living room, which is now furnished with a cozy cream sectional, an oversized plaid reading chair, and a large playpen for Wren.
“Because I did it effortlessly, it just felt right. And afterward I realized it was also a tie to you, which also felt effortless, right. So I kept it to myself, to not freak you out.” I kiss her cheek and shake my head when she tries to put Wren in the playpen.
“No, I have something to show you. Bring her with us.” I lead us to the stairs.
“Fine, but are you going to tell me her middle name?” she grumps.
“Yeah, it’s Elizabeth.”
Kendra freezes on the landing. “My middle name is Elizabeth.”
“I know,” I whisper in her ear.
Bottom lip wobbling, Kendra says, “That was also my mom’s name.”
We both look at Wren. “That I didn’t know at the time,” I admit, “but it’s just another tie, another reason it was the right fit. Why I was called to use that for her. Nothing else clicked until I whispered that name in the dark, pacing around my old apartment.”
“I love you,” Kendra says.
“I love you too.” I smile at her. “Do you want to know how our little peanut knows to call you Mama?” I stop outside the new nursery door.
“How?” Her eyes shine looking from me to Wren.
“Because when I hold her and we talk about you I call you Mama. When we see you I whisper in her ear, ‘There’s Mama.’ And when we look at pictures I point to you and tell her Mama. I tell her all the time how lucky we are and how much Mama loves us, loves her.”
Kendra leans her head on me and cries more.
“This is too much.” My body stiffens and she feels the change immediately.
“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Cupping my face, she says, “I am just feeling very overwhelmed by how amazing you are, by how much I love you, and how I never thought I would ever have this.”
“I want to give you everything,” I say, opening the bedroom door and taking Wren from Kendra so she doesn’t accidentally drop her when she sees what I did, because her go-to move when she is overwhelmed with emotions is to crumple.
Kendra steps into the pink room and sinks to her knees, fluffy green rug cushioning her landing this time, and sobs.
“Please don’t run away,” I beg, worried for the first time that I might have overstepped and my multistep plan might actually be too much.
“The only place I want to run is into your arms, Hulk.” Kendra shakes her head. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”
“Our life.” I sit down next to her and Wren starts to crawl around exploring the space.
“This is the most incredible room I have ever seen.”
She wipes her cheeks and takes in the soft pink walls, wooden spindle crib, cushioned rocking chair, dresser with a changing area on top.
There is a little bookshelf with a toy bin next to it in the corner where Wren is happily chomping on a carrot teether.
The magic of the room, however, is the mural that Rem painted on the wall behind the crib, similar to Kinsley’s room.
This time he made a colorful garden overflowing with various sizes and shapes of butterflies with a dreamy sunset dipping behind a stone garden wall.
“You like it?” I ask nervously.
“Obsessed with it.” Kendra tackles me to the soft rug and kisses the hell out of me. We break apart when we hear squeals from Wren and see her charging back to us at a furious crawl, not wanting to miss out on the excitement of her two favorite people being floor level.
“Come here, peanut.” I toss her up gently and catch her, then blow a raspberry on her belly making her giggle. There is no better sound.
“What does this mean, Eli?” Kendra asks, holding Wren’s hand.
“It means I am tired of going back and forth. Of you being in this house and me in that house. I want us in one place, all of us. This house.” I nod up at the roof.
“What about your place?”
“It’s just a house. We can sell it or rent it out. This is a home. The cabin means something, has special memories with your grandparents, especially your nana, and I want to make more with our family.” I run my hand up and down her thigh, praying she agrees.
“I’d really love that.” Kendra nods.
“So you would be okay with me and Wren officially moving in?” I confirm.
“Well you can’t separate a mother from her daughter, can you?” Kendra grins at me with happy tears shining in her eyes.
“Never,” I say, kissing her softly.