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Like most men, I hit the shopping wall. My feet hurt, and I needed to sit for a while.
“What’s wrong?” Karly asked.
“Shopping. I’m not built for it,” I replied. “Who wants ice cream?”
Alexis jumped up and down shouting that she did. Lisa’s mom had never gotten her ice cream at the party, she said. She made it known in quick words, and that meant she was getting tired. Apparently, the freezer had “died” and it had all melted.
“Well, seeing as it’s a super special day, you can both have whatever you want.”
Alexis slid onto the bench seat next to the window, and Karly slipped in next to her. It was delightful, and we ordered the biggest chocolate ice cream for three, which was covered in plenty of whipped cream.
Alexis stood on the seat and threw her arms around Karly’s neck. “I can’t wait to have a sister,” she said. I looked at Karly. We never considered the sex of the baby. “What do you want, Dada?”
“Now that’s a hard question. I’ve already got the bestest daughter in the whole wide world, so I should really have the bestest son in the world.”
Alexis frowned and glared at me. “You said I was going to be a big sister. It’s my choice,” she said. “Sister!”
“Brother.”
“Dada! Sister!”
I grinned. “Brother!”
The waitress came back with a fruit-bowl-sized mountain of whipped cream. Alexis dipped her finger in and licked it. I peered over the top.
“Brother!”
Alexis looked at me. “Dada, I want to whisper.”
I leaned across the table. Alexis slapped a handful of whipped cream across my face. “Sister. I want a sister.”
I took a napkin and wiped the side of my face. “There’s one way to decide,” I told to Alexis, who busied herself with licking her fingers, happy that she’d tricked me. “Karly can make the decision.”
Alexis turned to Karly and dipped her fingers back into the whipped cream. She giggled as her hand was ready.
Karly smiled and answered. “I’m happy to have either. For me, the important thing is a happy family.”
Karly had saved herself from Alexis and her attack of whipped cream. I sat back and watched as they toyed with each other and their newfound spoons, which the waitress had brought over. To anyone watching from afar, they already looked and acted like a mother and daughter would. I was relieved beyond belief.
It was strange that Alexis had taken to Karly from the first moment she met her.
I laughed to myself. Like father, like daughter. So had I. We’d both been struck by her.
Epilogue
Karly
11 Months Later
Who else could jump so far from being so naive and inexperienced? It was great luck on my part. I had never thought I could find love with him, my dream man.
As a newbie to the whole giving birth scene, I had found I was ecstatic. It really went without a hitch, and the doctors and nurses were awesome. I presumed much of that was down to the best-that-money-could-buy mentality Damon used when it was almost my time.
I had expected time to slow down once I gave birth, but with sleepless nights, time rushed by. Time definitely flew when you were having fun. Personally, it seemed to have passed by in the blink of an eye. Devin, a beautiful boy with wide brown eyes, was already two months old.
What surprised Damon and me the most was how the press painted a different picture of the entire thing they’d begun with. It wasn’t Techie Beds His Nanny or anything halfway as harsh. They had nothing but praise for our addition to the family. Damon’s shares rose in value. That was one thing that had wound the media up too. Apparently, happy families were great for client confidence, or so we found out.
We never knew we were going to have this beautiful boy. It was a complete surprise to us in the beginning, and I never really trusted the pill after that revelation. Devin, all seven pounds and three ounces of him, had snuck into the world in the middle of the night. He was as much a surprise to the media as I’d been. For most of my pregnancy, we hid it well that I was pregnant, and it was only one eagle-eyed photographer on a windy morning in the park who had spotted my bump.
From then on, it was hot news, and the media only had a month and a half to clamber over each other to get the best story. They came out with all the regular questions. Where was the child conceived? What are you hoping for? Have you chosen a name?
We had simple answers to all those questions, and when the media discovered we were telling the truth, they gave us a wide berth. We had no idea where the baby was conceived, we didn’t mind the gender—even though Damon wanted a boy—and no name was chosen. Those were our answers.
