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“Yes,” I confirm.
“Done,” dad and mom promise.
———
That night, with plans for my parents to visit us soon, Grady held me while I cried, calming down only when I reassured him they were happy ones.
Satisfied I was really okay, he placed his hand on my stomach and whispered to our son or daughter that they can be anything they want to be and we’ll always love them.
Epilogue Two
Grady
Ten years after meeting…
“I’m fine, baby,” I promise as Helen flies down the porch and launches herself at me. She’s trembling in my arms, her hands roving my body. Normally, I’d be throwing her on the bed, or taking her against the wall, and thoroughly having my way with her. Today, though, she needs reassurance. You’d think her concern for my safety would be because of my volunteer firefighter duties, but that isn’t the case.
One of my employees, former I correct myself, wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing, his eyes instead too busy looking at his phone screen. Needless to say, I’d been ready to rip into Jeremy, but my brother-in-law beat me to it.
Jason has taken on more responsibilities since officially joining years prior, including becoming a partner. Clint had fully stepped down, having no problem with passing the reins to the next generation, as he’d said. We’ve expanded the business into tree removal and trimming, which is the part Jason is in charge of. Being us, we’d chosen to call it what it was, with a punny twist…Branch Out Removal.
I have a feeling the imbecile’s ears are still burning, as are his feet from how quickly he fled the scene. Sometimes you take a chance on people and it pays off, others it bites you in the ass. Guess which category Jeremy falls under.
“Mrs. Hoffner said…” I stop her before she can continue, reminding her she’s believing the woman who won’t step on rocks for fear of hurting them. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” she concedes.
“The weedwacker barely nicked my leg.”
“Did you clean it?”
“I spit on a rag and wiped it a few times, then slapped some duct tape over it.”
She stares at me, trying to decide if I’m joking or being serious. Leaning toward the first option, she raises a brow, stating that she’s calling the doctor and getting me a tetanus shot. Hating needles like our three-year-old, Frederick, does vegetables, I lift the limb in question and point to the area under scrutiny, wanting to avoid that. Inspecting it as only a parent can, she finally declares that I’ll live.
Seeing an opportunity for some extra special attention, I limp inside the house, hinting that I might need her to nurse me back to health later. “You’re incorrigible,” she states with a smack to my ass.
“And you encourage it,” I retort.
“It’s hard not to when you’re so adorable.”
“Mom,” Murphy hollers. He’s only seven, but takes his role as the oldest quite seriously. “Does Dad need to go to the hospital again?” My loving wife smirks as she assures him it isn’t necessary. This might not be the first I’ve been injured thanks to someone else’s carelessness.
“Think he’d be willing to forget that situation for ten bucks?”
“Make it twenty and it’s erased from my memory bank,” Murphy pipes in with a smirk that’s a carbon copy of my own.
“Little extortionist,” I mutter, reaching for my wallet.
“Grady Elias McLean, don’t you dare let him blackmail you.” Murphy chuckles, a bit evilly in my opinion, and says we’ll discuss the details later.
“Thank goodness I’m brewing a girl this time,” Helen grumbles as she rubs her belly. “I’ve been outnumbered for way too long,” she pouts.
“We live to serve you, milady,” I remind her with a grin.
“Cover your eyes, bro,” Murphy warns three-year-old Freddie. “They’re about to kiss.”
“Gwoss.” Laughing, I pick him up and tickle him, then proceed to kiss his cheeks.
“Now you have cooties,” I tease him.
