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He sets me down and grazes a slow, sensual kiss against my lips, walking me backward to the wall. I meet his kiss in kind, hungry for him, my hands running up the hard lines of his chest as his palms skim the rise of my backside, pulling me against him.
“Careful,” I warn, grinning. “Not sure I’m ready for four kids in half as many years.”
He dips his head and chuckles into my neck. “How about three?”
“We can discuss it in a couple of years,” I tell him, urging his head back up so he can kiss me again. “For now, the twins are… perfect. In my life, I’ve learned that all good things come in twos, so I wouldn’t want to jinx it.”
He kisses me instead of asking me to elaborate. I love him for that. He knows that my past will always pop up from time to time, but because he leaves room for Ben, there’s enough space for my grief to be satisfied; I don’t need to carve out more for the husband I lost. They coexist, and in that harmony, my happiness continues to flourish, with only a dark day or two that fade as quickly as they arrive. I know how lucky I am, and like Rowan once said—you take it, and you say thanks.
“The babies are howling for you,” he says, pulling back with an apologetic look on his face. “I did my best, but I don’t have what you have. Don’t want to do something that might put them in therapy before they’re teenagers.”
I snort, but it swiftly turns into a wide-eyed stare. “Teenagers, Ro.” I shake my head. “One day, we’re going to have teenagers.”
“God willing,” he replies, smiling.
I kiss him again, whispering, “Thank you,” against his lips.
“For what?”
“For being you,” I say, taking hold of his hand. “For being… here.”
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. “No place I’d rather be.”
Together, we head back out into the café, where the “Grand Opening” has trickled down to the people we care about the most: a private party for those who’ve been by my side through it all. Grace, Georgie, Ms. and Mr. T, Cybil, Lyndsey, Oscar, Rowan, my babies, while my grandma and Ben watch from wherever they are, pleased to see me settled at last, no doubt. Benishere, too, in the tiny pink angel who grips my finger and falls asleep in my arms like I’m the safest haven in the world, snuggled up with the other great love of my life—my daughter, Esté-Rose.
The twins I never expected, the twins I never could have imagined myself being mother to, the twins who have upended my life in the best possible way, the twins I carried for eight months, petrified and excited and anxious, every step of the way.
It's no secret that I never wanted to be a mom. With a childhood like mine, so grim and dark and damaging, it’d be enough to turn anyone off to the idea. It wasn’t that I changed my mind, exactly, but more that I had my mind changed for me. First, I was late a few days, and then a few days turned into two weeks, prompting Rowan to come into the bathroom with a little paper bag from the pharmacy. That pregnancy test, bought “just in case,” turned out to be the greatest, most terrifying gift of our lives. And as soon as I heard their heartbeats, there was no doubt in my mind that I would see it through. After all, it wasn’t like I was sixteen with a deadbeat boyfriend, panicking about the future; I was married, I was happy, I was pushing thirty, and I thought… why not? Fate had played some tricks before, for sure, but I didn’t feel like it was trying to be cruel, this time.
“I hear I’m needed?” I reach for Ben, who’s mewling for me.
Cybil hands him over, rushing to vacate the comfy armchair where she’s been staring at my son, her own son’s namesake, with the past and the future reflecting in her eyes. “You sit down here. I might have old legs, but I refuse to sit while you stand.” She pauses, eyeing the counter. “Might have one of those delicious pastries, now that I think of it. You have a wonderful place here, Summer. I will have to visit New Orleans more often.”
“You will,” I agree. “The twins will miss their honorary grandmother, otherwise.”
A strange, choking sound lodges in Cybil’s chest, as she clasps her hand to her heart. “Grandmother?”
“If you want to be. You too, Ms. T,” I say, draping a cloth over myself and Ben so he can nurse in peace.
Ms. T makes the same, strangled sound and turns her face toward the window, while my sweet daughter, Esté-Rose, grabs a fistful of her ruffled blouse. “Lord have mercy, Summer, you’ve got to warn a gal before you go sayin’ somethin’ so heartwarmin’ as that!”
“We’ve been talking about it,” Rowan steps in, clocking the fact that my eyes are brimming. I know how vital grandparents are, and I want our twins to have the very best. “Since neither Summer or I have any parents living, someone needs to be the twins’ grandparents. We can’t think of anyone who’d be better for the job than the two of you.”
“Gracie is thrilled,” Lyndsey adds, her eyes glinting with tears too. “But you’ll have to be her honorary grandma as well, Ms. T, so she doesn’t feel left out.”
Ms. T fans her face furiously. “I swear, the bunch of y’all are gonna make an old dame faint with all of this.” She bursts into tears, and Esté-Rose stares at her with her beautiful, sky-colored eyes. “Of course I’ll be their honorary grandma! Been waitin’ all these years to be someone’s grandma, and… Oh, my poor heart can’t take it. It’s… Lord, if this ain’t the happiest day of my darned life! And all ‘cause you walked into my bookshop that day, Summer. For as long as I live, I’ll be thankin’ that day!”
Cybil, more guarded with her feelings, just nods and sniffs away her tears. “I think that would be… rather wonderful. Utterly wonderful.” She pauses. “And Ms. T is quite right—you ought to warn us old dames before you throw something so… unexpected and… heartwarming at us.”
She walks off to the counter and puts her arm around Grace, who’s still working her way through her giant hot chocolate. But I see Cybil’s shoulders shaking slightly, and I know she’s like the rest of us—an emotional wreck. Ms. T swaps Esté-Rose for Ben so she has her turn to nurse and as I cradle my daughter, rocking her gently, I can’t hold my own tears back anymore. They drip down, caught by the linen cloth before they can reach my daughter’s sweet face, and I like to think it’s a sign that no matter what happens, no matter what challenges she might face, I’ll always be there to stop the tears from falling. At the very least, I’ll be there to catch them, being the mother I never had, loving her so much and so hard that she’ll never go a day without knowing what it is to be cherished.
“Did you make Grandma sad?” Grace wanders over with a hot chocolate mustache curving past her lips.
Lyndsey smiles and pulls her daughter into her side. “I think they’re happy tears, but you shouldn’t point them out or she’ll get embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?” Grace frowns.
“It’s hard to explain,” Lyndsey says. “I’ll tell you later.”
