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Epilogue
Jessa
* * *
Two years later.
I’m in the tub surrounded by warm water, and Sam is here with me. He’s telling a funny story while we wait for me to go into labor, and the water laps against my curves peacefully. This will be my second child, and the experience couldn’t be more different from when Ava was born. For one, I don’t have a midwife because as an EMT, Sam’s able to handle the birth. Plus, my boyfriend is here with me, instead of being absent. That’s the biggest change of all, and I smile beatifically at the handsome man, even as tiny spasms ripple through my tummy.
“So then the dog ran over, and he started humping the old lady’s leg,” he recounts.
I gasp.
“Oh my god, are you serious?”
He chuckles low in his chest, squeezing my hand.
“Yes, but honey, it gets even worse. The old lady is knocked off balance so she’s on her hands and knees, and the golden retriever goes crazy! He’s literally humping her doggy-style, and it was so embarrassing but also so hysterical. Tim and I could hardly keep straight faces.”
I giggle.
“Oh my god, did you get it on video?”
He shakes his head, chuckling a bit.
“No, because it would have been unprofessional. But I think her grandson was able to get it on camera? The kid looked about fifteen, and you know teenagers: they’ve always got their phones out. I’ll ask Tim if he got a copy.”
I giggle.
“How is Tim by the way?”
Sam nods when I mention his new partner.
“He’s good. He’s a pretty private guy, but I think he’s seeing someone. And just between you and me, honey, I think she’s a stripper,” he adds in a low voice.
“Really?” I gasp, my eyes round and shocked.
Sam lets out a low whistle.
“Yep. At least that’s what I suspect, but nothing’s confirmed.”
Hmm, I’ll definitely have to find out more because Tim’s a handsome man, and quite the catch in this part of town. But a stripper? That sounds exciting.
I let out another laugh and the sound echoes loudly in the bathroom, but it’s okay be to be raucous because we have the house to ourselves. Right now, Ava’s with my parents at their house. It’s only 2 p.m., so she, “Peepaw,” and “Meemaw,” as she likes to call Dorothy and Fred, are probably having a late lunch right now. As a result, Sam and I are taking our time, and he’s coaching me through labor as waves of cramps wash over me.
But it’s different from when I had Ava. Of course, I don’t blame Felicity for what happened two years ago. Sometimes, labor is unpredictable, and the midwife did the right thing by calling 9-1-1 when it was warranted, which leads me to my current blissful relationship with Sam.
I couldn’t be more grateful. Our interactions were a bit bumpy at first, but Ava and I moved in with Sam immediately, and now live as a happy family in his house. I remember thinking that he’d want to ease back into our relationship slowly, but the handsome man surprised me. “No, Jess,” he said with a serious frown. “You and the baby are mine, and I take care of what’s mine.”
I’m glad he’s so masculine and posessive because it’s been utterly wonderful. Sam is an attentive father, and like a true alpha male, he doesn’t balk at changing dirty diapers, feeding Ava, or getting up in the middle of the night when she’s crying. He adores his daughter, and we’re lucky to have him.
Plus, Sam supports us because I don’t work at the Salty Lagoon anymore. Instead, I’m a full-time mom and it’s been so gratifying. I had no idea that I’d adore being with a baby 24/7, but Ava is incredibly special with her big blue eyes and red curls. She gurgles all sorts of words, and I’m happy that I was able to be there for her first bite of solid food, her first step, and even her first song. Ava has inherited my voice, and with some practice, I can tell she’s going to be a talented warbler.
As a result, I haven’t given up working altogether either. I want my daughter to have a strong female figure in her life, and I’d like to keep my dream alive to show her how. I still sing at bars sometimes, and my daughter loves listening from the back while cuddled in her father’s arms. I know: bringing a baby into a bar isn’t standard fare, but most people in our small town don’t mind, and it’s cute to see my little Mini-Me waving her arms in time to the music.
Another cramp ripples through my tummy, and I gasp as Sam presses his forehead to mine. His hand slips under the water to stroke my stomach. “Where did you go, angel?” he asks. “You got a faraway look in your eyes just then.”
