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Epilogue
One year later
“NO!” SAID CHLOE, FORCING Micah to sit beside his brother, Ellis. “You’re sick. You have to drink your medicine.” She handed each one a paper cup filled with water, and felt their foreheads. “You have a temper-chure. Three hundred. We have to operate.”
“No, I’m the doctor,” Micah declared. “Ellis can be sick.”
“I’m not sick,” said Ellis. “I’m a pilot.”
“I’m a pilot. You can be the helper,” said Chloe.
“You can’t be the pilot—I’m the pilot.” Ellis stomped his foot.
“I’m an Iron Man, like Daddy.” Micah ran in circles around the other two.
“No, I’m an Iron Man.” Ellis chased behind him.
“I wanna be an Iron Man,” said Chloe.
“You can’t,” said Micah. “You’re a girl.”
Chloe’s tears were immediate. “Momma! Micah said I can’t be an Iron Man!”
Charlie chuckled. “I guess you can be an Iron Man. Girls run that race, don’t they Papa Steven?”
“That’s right,” Steven agreed. “Anyone can be an Iron Man. You don’t have to be a boy.” But the three-year-olds had already moved on to another topic.
“This is the best Christmas ever!” Anne declared, gazing around happily at her family, relaxing in Gram’s warm family room, complete with a blazing fire.
“You say that every year, Mom,” laughed Emily.
“But this year is the best of all. Grandpa’s coming tomorrow. Both my girls are happily in love and married. Much better than last year when Charlie was all in a turmoil over Josh.”
“Yes,” Josh agreed. “I much prefer this Christmas to last year. Although I’m thoroughly stuffed after having Christmas lunch with Ron and Kay.”
“Maybe next year you can talk them into coming to our house for Christmas,” Anne suggested.
“I have to agree with your Mom,” said Steven. “I feel better now both of you are married and secure.”
“And miserable,” Charlie said, rubbing her back as she arched to balance her huge belly. “Don’t forget miserable.”
“And swollen,” Emily added, lifting her feet to view her sausage toes past her equally large abdomen. “I’m ready to have this baby today.”
“No way. I’m already overdue—you can’t have yours before me.”
“It’s not a competition, Charlie,” Emily teased. “And anyway, I’m overdue, too.”
“By one day—that doesn’t count. I’m a week overdue. My stomach is so big I can barely fit in any of my maternity clothes.”
“It’s not just your stomach that’s big.” Josh grinned, waggling his eyebrows as he stared at her chest.
Charlie flung him a playful swat, but whispered in her sister’s ear, “I’m up to a C-cup. What about you?”
“Me, too,” she whispered. “And even those bras are getting tight.”
“No fair—you better not get bigger boobs than me.”
“Grace said to get ready for a show when your milk comes in.”
