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This room was the first we worked on after we bought our house in the suburbs.
At first, I found it strange to think of Ryker’s money as ours, but something magical happened on our wedding day, as we stood beneath the snow white altar and said our vows – as Sadie, Paul and Josephine and Ryker’s parents Brian and Tina watched, teary eyed – as the whole world seemed to stop spinning for a few precious moments…
As we kissed – the words I do still replaying in my mind – I felt us fusing even more deeply than we ever had before. I’m not sure if I believe in souls, but I know for a fact something glued together the more we kissed, the hungrier we became, until now thinking us, we, ours feels like the most natural thing.
Ryker is supporting me with my artwork, helping me to get back on track after the pregnancy, and preparing for my first gallery showing. Even if that gives me a major eek moment, it’s also something I feel like I have to do, because lots of my newer paintings portray pregnancy, family, love.
If I can get even one person to feel a glinting reflection of what I feel – every day, every second, every breath – then I’ll consider it worth it.
“I should’ve known,” Ryker says softly, filling the doorframe with his half-naked form.
He’s wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else, drawing my eyes to the gradations of his muscles, the indentations of his abs, and that tempting V that leads down to his manhood.
I push those thoughts away, smiling away the lust… or, at least, relegating it to a dim corner for now.
If I thought pregnancy and childbirth would make Ryker want me less, I was dead wrong. He’s drawn to me like a moth to a flame.
“You can’t help yourself,” he says, with approval and love.
He’s right. Every time I come in here to feed her, I’ll always end up sitting with her, holding her, amazed by the sheer fact of her existence.
“She doesn’t feel like a new person, does she?”
Ryker moves carefully across the room, not wanting to wake her. Kneeling down, he reaches over and strokes his hand across my cheek, and then leans over our daughter to kiss me tenderly.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
His fingers stroke protectively over our daughter’s head. I’m always so amazed by how softly he handles her, how gentle my giant can be.
“She feels like a piece of us,” he whispers. “Like there’s a piece of us that’s been missing, and now we’ve found her. Now she’s been returned to us.”
I blink and tears kiss my cheeks, welcome happy tears.
He doesn’t need me to tell him I feel the same.
He sits down, leaning against my chair, reaching up and softly curling his fingers around my hand.
Together we hold onto our daughter, content to simply sit here, to be here, overflowing with gratitude.
Extended Epilogue
Ten Years Later
Ryker
I stand at the grill, flipping over the burgers with a wide, wide smile on my face. Today is one of those days that makes a man appreciate what he has. Though that isn’t saying much, now that I come to think of it because every single day since my woman agreed to marry me has been one of those.
But today is especially good.
The sun is shining high in the sky, casting glowing rays over our garden, the pool loud with the splash-splash-splash of our three middle children.
Cory, Kelly, and Jack – four years, five years, and six years old respectively – just love to make mayhem in the swimming pool together. Since they’re joined this afternoon by their two cousins – Sadie’s rambunctious twin boys – it’s no wonder my parents have chosen to pull their chairs back just a little…
Enough so they don’t get splashed every second, but close enough so they can drink in the joy of their family. They returned to the States shortly after Margot was born, keen to spend the rest of their golden years with their grandchildren.
Now, mom – her face shadowy beneath her wide stylish hat – raises her old school camera to her face and snaps a picture. She catches me looking and waves at me, camera and all, and with a chuckle, I wave back with the spatula.
I’m wearing my World’s Greatest Dad apron, the one Margot bought for me last year.
I try to live up to that moniker every single day, and my woman more than lives up to her World’s Greatest Mom mug. Even when she’s deep in a painting frenzy, she always finds time for us, and most of her gallery displays are in the city so she never has to be apart from her children for long.
Despite that, she’s carved a glorious career for herself, focusing on family in her eclectic work… some of it true-to-life, other pieces more experimental and surreal. With the help of the motherhood blog she started to promote her work – she is so wonderfully industrious, my wife – she’s gained a significant following, and for the past few years we’ve been bringing in similar incomes.
