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“We already agreed this was the last, Carter.”
Leaning in, he kisses me on my cheek. “I know, baby.”
“This is so unfair! I mean, Jeanette has had two girls. Two! And I bet the one she’s got in there now is a girl too. I just know it.” I pout and resume glaring at Carter as if he really can control the sex of our babies. The doctor told us with each pregnancy being a boy, the odds actually go down for ever getting a girl. When I heard that statistic I knew I was done trying. I’ll just be stuck in a house with men for the rest of my life. Little C is only four and he already growls like his father.
“All right, Layla, we’re going to start now. In just a few moments your babies will be here,” I hear the doctor say but I keep my eyes on Carter. Even though we’ve done this twice before I know he’s on edge. He always is when it comes to the kids and me.
“We still going with Michael and Samuel for the boys’ names?” I ask, trying to get his mind working on something else while the doctor works.
“It’s perfect, baby, just perfect. You gave me these babies. You can name them anything you want and I would love it.”
A cry breaks out into the room and makes a tear slip down my cheek
“Baby boy number one is here,” the doctor announces.
Carter smiles bigger and kisses the tear that slipped out.
“It’s for the best, baby. Could you imagine a little girl running around our house already having me and two big brothers? Might as well send her to a convent.”
I can’t help but snort at that. No, I’m not sure how a little girl would have worked out with us but I think she would have had everyone wrapped around her finger.
“Not going to lie though, baby, it would have been cute to have a little girl that looked just like you… as long as she didn’t have the red hair. I probably would have never let her out of the house.”
“Five pounds and two ounces,” I hear a nurse call out. Another cry pierces the room and I know the second baby is here.
“Well, this isn’t common but it looks like baby number two is a girl and not a boy after all.”
Carter jumps up from his kneeling position and his whole face goes slack.
“Carter,” is all I can choke out, and his eyes come back to mine before he brings his hand to his face to rub his eyes. “She’s got red fucking hair, Cherry.”
My whole face breaks out into a smile. “We’ll call her, Mary,” I say.
Dropping his hand from his eyes, he stares at me and I can see his eyes are shining. No tears escape but I see all his emotions on his face. “After my mom,” he whispers. “It’s perfect.”
Epilogue
Layla
About 18 years later…
“I don’t care if it’s Jeanette and Saint’s only son, I swear to God, I’ll snap that little prick’s neck,” Carter growls, pacing beside the foot of the bed.
Mary is graduating this year and finally picked the college she’ll be attending in the fall. It wasn’t a week later that Jeanette and Saint’s son announced he would be attending the same school. This isn’t shocking news to me. I’ve seen the way he looks at Mary. It’s more than a young man’s lust, it’s adoration.
Setting my book down on the end table next to the bed, I just watch him. It’s best to let him stomp around a little before to help settle him down. Almost twenty-five years I’ve been with this man and I know the two things that work him up most are me and his daughter. He was so scared of being a father to a little girl but he is perfect at it. Because of Carter I know Mary understands what a good man is. She has a shining example of one for a father. Carter might be rough around the edges, but he would do anything for me and that is what I know she sees every day. Carter would crawl through glass if I asked him to do it.
These big gruff men seem badass, but when it comes to their woman it’s a whole new ball game.
“Carter, come here,” I say, tossing the blanket off my lap so he can lay his head there, his skin against mine. That always seems to work best.
Crawling onto the bed he drops his head in my lap and I can feel the tension leave his body.
“She’ll be fine. I promise. It’s time.” Closing his eyes, he doesn’t respond and I just stroke his buzzed hair. “I believe I was sixteen when something locked me into being yours.”
“That was different,” he growls and tries to get back up, but I stop him with the lightest touch that brings his head back into my lap.
“Carter, I remember the look, and that boy has the same one you did,” I remind him, trying to get him to see it too. They might be young but I was younger when I fell in love with him.
“He’s a good boy,” I continue. “We would be lucky if they fell in love and ended up together. No one would treat her better.” It’s true and he knows it. He’s just having a hard time letting go. Our babies are all leaving the nest. That boy has followed Mary around since they both started crawling. It was like they were born to be together. I want their love story to be different than ours. I love Carter’s and mine, but it took pain and blood to get here and we raised our family to be different. Their love story could be simpler than ours because we made it that way for them. They won’t have to fight for it like we did. We already did that for them.
“Let them be. Think about the positive. Just you and me in this big old warehouse again. I can go back to walking around naked,” I tease. He’s always complaining that there isn’t enough of me walking around naked. This is a complaint he makes often and loudly. I’ve heard people say attraction and lust cool after time, but Carter’s has never lessened for even a moment. There has never been a time in the past twenty-five years that I didn’t think Carter wanted me.
Growling in typical Carter fashion, he flips me onto my back in moments, looming over me.
“Kiss me,” I whisper against his lips.
“That’s my line, Cherry,” he says, and takes my lips.
THE END
Bonus
letters Carter wrote from prison
Two Weeks In
Cherry,
I got your letter today. I think I read it a dozen times. It’s the first letter I’ve ever gotten in prison, and I never thought it would be from you. I don’t know what to say about that night, other than it’s in the past. Try not to think about it anymore and move on with your life. Some things are better left forgotten.
Carter
Three Weeks In
Cherry,
I knew I would never mail the letter I wrote to you. I’ve read every one you’ve sent over and over until I couldn’t hold my eyes open anymore. Having contact with the outside world makes me feel like I’m not just a caged animal. I don’t plan on mailing this letter either…I think I just need to write it down. I’ve had eyes on you since the second they brought me to prison. Saint updates me once a week on your status. He’s a good guy and I trust him with my life. More importantly, I trust him with yours. I don’t know what else to say. I’m having a hard time being separated from you. Who knew you could miss something you never even really had?
Carter
Two Years In
Cherry,
Happy eighteenth birthday, baby. I got your letter today saying how excited you were. I wish could have been there to watch you blow out the candles. I can only imagine that in two years you’ve grown more beautiful. I miss your smile more than anything on the outside. I never knew what it did to me until it was taken away from me. I think I could forget about everything but your smile. If I was there and could help you celebrate, I’d give you whatever you wanted, just to see your face light up. One more time. That’s all I’d need.
Carter
Three Years In
