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Epilogue
One Month Later
Callie
I stare down at the pregnancy tests, at the two lines that tell me I’m going to be a mother. My gaze doesn’t shift, as the fear of blinking takes hold of me.
It’s ridiculous. Do I really think I’m going to blink and suddenly the two lines are going to become one, and our bright future is going to shatter?
I laugh at myself, looking around the wide-open bathroom as though it’s going to give me any answers.
It has a cozy look now, with carved wood signs and happy slogans written across them, an ocean theme sprinkled in to give it some character – a piece of driftwood that acts as a counter, seashells glittering from the windowsill.
No, no I have to focus on the pregnancy test, of how much Conrad and I have prayed for this over the past month.
So much has happened, so much life flurrying into a warm future, with mom still remaining positive. She’s starting a community college course of her own, in art, building on her natural joy for it. I’ve enrolled back in college, ready to pick up where I left off once the semester begins, and there’s even hope I might go to a four-year school and really get sucked into it.
Conrad has been there every step of the way, in between going into work and saving lives, always ready to nudge me along the road when I feel my inner momentum starting to wane. My man is always supportive, and now we’ve got what we want, a family, a future.
I can’t wait for him to come home.
I wrap the test in tissue paper and tuck it into my pocket after I’m done. I know there are people who’d say that’s gross, but I don’t give a hoot as I walk toward the door. I want to save this.
My whole body is alight with joy, my soul quaking and singing.
We’ve talked about getting pregnant so many times, and I always told him we’d share the news in person. But now I wish I hadn’t made that promise because it buzzes inside me, whispering past my usual concerns – preparing for college at the same time as establishing the charity.
Conrad said I didn’t have to. He bought the space and we could rent it out in the meantime.
But when I told him I wanted to start both projects at the same time, this look of profound pride came into his eyes. It was like all the heat and warmth of our relationship was burning through him.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, pulling me close and pressing his lips against mine. “You’re so damn impressive.”
Now I walk out into the open-plan living room, finding Patrick sitting on the couch. Conrad’s dad has been staying with us. He said he couldn’t possibly stay in Spain without meeting his son’s fiancé, his future daughter-in-law, me.
I’m stunned by how quickly we’ve bonded.
He’s a tall lean man, with a bald head and a kind look about him. He wears a shirt and trousers, all of it seeming a little too big. He reminds me of how mom looked right after dad’s death, as though missing something.
But when he sees me, his whole face changes, a warm paternal smile lighting it up.
“Hey, Callie. Are you okay?”
“Hey, Patty,” I murmur, walking over to the other couch and dropping down. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He told me to call him Patty the first time we met, a reference to his Irish heritage. One night, when he and I and Conrad were hanging around playing board games, he showed me photos from when he was a younger man. He had red hair and was much bigger back then.
“Are you sure?”
I glance at him. He has the same wolfish blue eyes as Conrad, only his don’t seem to glint with repressed aggression. His don’t seem like he could explode into action at any second…
Conrad’s are exactly that, always on the verge of an animal release when he lays them on me.
Sometimes, even when there’s company, I’ll catch him looking at me like he’s going to ravish me.
I have to give him a look in return, hopefully, one that says, Not yet, not now.
But sometimes I just can’t help myself from teasing him and driving him crazy, pouting at him so that his eyes flood with even more hunger. Over this past month, I’ve learned all the ways to make my man wild, to drive him crazy with desire, and it makes me feel so freaking powerful, so freaking wanted.
I force those thoughts away, focusing instead on my father-in-law.
No, no.
My future father-in-law.
I keep doing that, forgetting we’re not married yet. It’s probably because I already feel so bonded to him.
“I’ve got something I need to tell Conrad,” I say, unable to stop myself. It’s like the news is an alive thing trying to writhe free from inside of me. “But I can’t do it until he gets home in…”
