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I hold her close against my bare chest, skin to skin, because all the books say it’s comforting for babies. Then I rock her and tap her diapered ass gently, singing the same song I’m drumming against her diaper—“Africa” by Toto.
Lainey’s awake in the bed and I feel her eyes on me, watching me hold our daughter. Our daughter. How wild is that?
“I love you too, you know,” she says softly.
Her gaze is shiny and so damn sweet—brimming with emotion, and filled with our future.
“I mean, how can I not love a hot shirtless guy singing the best song ever recorded to a newborn?” She gives a little laugh, then she goes on. “I’ve loved you for a while, Dean. You were right—I was scared. But I’m good now.”
I slip onto the bed, holding Ava in the crook of one arm and wrapping the other around Lainey, tugging her close. That surging feeling of contentment and joy comes back again, tightening in my chest, and I’m pretty sure this is as good as it gets. That everything I didn’t know I always wanted, is right here in this moment, in my arms.
I kiss Lainey long and sweet—because she’s beautiful and perfect and all fucking mine.
“I love you, Lainey. I think it started that first night. When I woke up and realized I’d let you get away and I was . . . wrecked. Then when I found you again—and that feeling, the love, it was still there—and it grew every day.” I kiss her again, promising. “It’s going to keep growing, Lainey.”
“Yeah.” Her pink, pretty lips slide into a smile and she rests her head on my shoulder. Together we gaze down at the miracle we made and we plan the life we’ll make from this day on.
Epilogue
Lainey
June
I walk through the lake house on Miller Street—our house—recording footage on my phone for a goodbye video I’ll put together later on. The Lifers probably would’ve enjoyed a live post, but I opted out because there would’ve been an excellent chance I’d be a blubbery mess by the time it was done.
Every room in this house has its moments—its memories. Jason’s room, is where I told him about the baby for the first time and the attic is where he and his friends bonded over de-ghosting the house. Dean and I have made love in the master bedroom more times than I can count—and that’s also where he told me we were in this together. I walk through the beautiful nursery, the room that only family helped put together and the first place Ava slept when we brought her home.
I touch the striped navy-and-white walls in one of the spare bedrooms and remember Dean’s wicked voice and sexy suggestions. I walk through the room Grams slept in on Christmas, and where she’s stayed a few nights since when she’s come over to help us with the baby.
Down in the living room, I run my hand along the fireplace mantel and close my eyes and remember fresh-baked cookies and the feel of cuddling with Dean under a blanket while a snowstorm raged outside. There have been so many kisses in the kitchen, so much laughter that as I stand beside the marble-topped center island, the echo of it rings in my ears.
I walk to the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard, and press my hand against the pane. My eyes dart between the beautiful princess-cut engagement ring on my finger, and out to the patio where last month, Dean dropped down to one knee and popped the question—in the warm glow of the firepit and the view of the lake.
And that’s the one that does it—that makes my throat clog and my vision blur with tears. Because I’m going to miss this house so much, every room and lamp and curtain . . . and every memory we made here.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me back against his solid chest, pressing his face into my neck, kissing the skin there.
“Time to go, Lainey.”
Facebook offered to renew my contract for Life with Lainey and I accepted. Now that the house is done, we’ll be branching out—decorating rooms in other people’s houses—and my first project in the fall is Callie’s Mom, Mrs. Carpenter’s kitchen. But for the summer, we’re taking Life with Lainey on the road, and I’m doing a six-week series of videos on the best places—bars, beaches, family spots—along the Jersey shore, as Ava and I go on tour with Dean’s band, Amber Sound. It’s going to be an adventure, but Ava’s a mellow baby, easygoing, and she loves music—Dean’s drums in particular—so I think we’ll survive.
Jason didn’t want to leave his friends to come on tour, plus he got a job at the Bagel Shop for the summer, and is taking a math class at the local college to challenge himself. So for the weeks when Dean, Ava and I will be down the shore, Jason’s going to live with Grams. Though she says having the house to herself since Dean moved in with me has done wonders for her social life—she’s excited to have Jay staying with her and Lucy for a bit.
