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Pointing up as we pull away from the church, there’s a very coincidental military fly-by, with a half dozen jets information too.
That whole afternoon and well into the evening, I learn what Italian hospitality is really all about, and despite begging to change out of my dress I fear will burst if I eat another thing, Nonna Palazzo insists I leave it on, her own eyes damp with tears as she sees what must be like a son to her finally married.
Only when it’s almost time for us to go, for our farewell as ‘just married’ and off to the airport can I change, and it’s Xander himself who insists on doing the driving from here on.
All the guests have strict instructions to enjoy themselves until they can’t take anymore and carrying me to the car, we must spend half an hour with more kisses and well wishes before we finally pull away.
“How do you feel, Mrs. Sexton?” Xander asks, looking more than pleased with himself, already eyeing my low cut top and resting his hand in my lap once I put it in mine.
“Full of Italian food,” I confess. “But the happiest woman alive, Mr. Sexton,” I tell him truthfully.
I notice him drive straight past the turnoff to the airport and I open my mouth to ask but think better of it.
“Just one more little surprise,” he murmurs, almost making me groan but I knew we couldn’t avoid it.
No space stuff I said, but it’s not really. Kind of not anyway. Only to the edge of the atmosphere, Xander promises.
“It’s as close as I’ll be getting to out there for a while,” he tells me. “Plus we’ll be in Colorado in about ten minutes,” he adds as we stand at the stairs leading up to some kind of stealth fighter-looking thingy instead of the Delta flight I booked us.
I feel a moment of hesitation. “Is it safe for women?” I ask and he laughs. “It’s safe for women,” he assures me.
“Pregnant women?” I add, tugging his hand and putting it on my belly.
“You mean?” he asks and I nod, biting my lip.
“Surprise,” I fake cheer, not trying to take away from his surprise, but not wanting to get on anything that could harm our baby either.
He grabs me, holding me close.
“Oh, Gillian, why didn’t you say so? How could I not know?” he sniffs, “and yes, it’s safe for pregnant women. Promise.”
He holds me for a long time, making me wonder why, but when I see the tears on his cheeks when the captain tells us it’s time to go, I understand.
“Time to go, Colonel,” the pilot says respectfully.
Xander wipes his eyes, kissing me and holding his hand on my belly again.
“Then you fly safe, captain. We’ve got precious cargo on board.”
“Yes Sir!”
I mouth the words I love you before he picks me up, carrying me up the steps.
It’s the flight of our lives because it’s the beginning of the rest of it, shared together.
As family as well as husband and wife.
Extended Epilogue
Three Months Later
Xander
“Was I a big baby?” I repeat after Gillian asks, looking thoughtful. “Why?” I ask after a time, shrugging. Not sure why she’s growling, angry, and pointing a finger towards her beautiful, full belly.
“Because of this. This is why. It’s been six months since we… Well, you know? And another three months of this is more than I can take,” she almost shouts, making my ears hurt.
I put a hand on her belly and she relaxes straight away.
“I’m sorry, darling. I keep forgetting,” I admit. “Tell me when it gets too much,” I remind her.
She puts both her hands over mine.
“I just wish I knew how to do that, whatever it is you do. It always makes me feel better,” she adds, lifting my hand to kiss it.
I smile, but I honestly don’t know how to answer her. My thing’s always been physics.
Biology isn’t my field at all.
“Oh, Xander,” she exclaims as I miss our exit to show her something. “You better not be taking us on any more joy rides across the atmosphere,” she growls again, gripping my hand and putting it back over her belly.
“No, I’m not,” I tell her. “We’re going to see a doctor now,” I say trying not to sound worried, but six months of Gillian wanting to do things her way is starting to show.
I think we both need to know everything’s progressing as it should be and I tell her so.
“Agreed?” I ask, and she nods in surrender.
“Just don’t let them stick anything in me, or our baby,” she says firmly.
“I won’t,” I promise. Hoping it doesn’t come to that.
“Hey, I can feel him moving,” I smile, really feeling a strong hand or little foot in there.
“What makes you say ‘him’?” Gillian asks with a tone of defiance.
“Just a turn of phrase dear,” I shrug, wanting my hand back now but she presses it harder, keeping it in place.
