Back in the Burbs by Tracy Wolff
Epilogue
One year later…
The curtains hanging in the bedroom window aren’t hot-pink-and-green-zebra-striped like at my aunt’s house, but they still do an awful job of keeping out the sunlight first thing in the morning. The beams come in at the perfect angle to shine right in my eyes. Unwilling to give up the warmth of my bed, I try to roll over, but I’m stuck.
Nick’s arm is thrown across me and when I move, he tugs me closer so I’m plastered against his muscular form. I would have rolled the other way, but nine-months-pregnant bellies and sleeping facedown on the mattress doesn’t really work. I haven’t seen my toes in months, putting on underwear is its own kind of balancing hell, and I get heartburn after every meal. I’ve never been happier.
Judging by the steady state of my contractions since the sun woke me up this morning, I’m not going to be preggo much longer, either. I’m just lying here processing all that is about to change when Nick’s palm glides from the top of my belly to my breast—not that I’m complaining.
“Go back to sleep,” Nick says, his words tickling the back of my skin.
Yeah. That isn’t gonna happen. A baby is definitely coming. “Have you seen the sun coming in through the window?”
“I’m gonna board that thing up,” he grumbles before delivering a string of kisses up my neck. “How’s Happy doing this morning?”
That’s what Nick has called the baby since the day we found out I’m pregnant. We were doing the whole predawn-walk-of-shame thing for months when we found out we were part of the point zero, zero, zero, whatever percent of birth control fails—not that either of us saw our happy little accident that way. We were thrilled. What can I say? Timing has never been our strong suit.
At least my divorce from Karl had been final by then. And by final I mean Gina was true to her word and made him cry—and give me half the business before I signed. He is remarried with his own child born now, and I honestly wish him all the best. I’m too excited about the future with this amazing man to dwell on that asshole anyway.
And this morning, so is Happy. I take Nick’s hand and move it down from cupping my suddenly ginormous boobs to my round belly. Happy lets it be known that she’s ready to come feel that sunshine herself.
“Did she just kick?” Nick asks.
“Oh yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “Our girl’s a fighter.”
He kisses me again, this time on top of my shoulder. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“About that.” I pause, letting the moment drag out for just the teensiest bit of drama. “How do you feel about this morning?”
Nick’s body freezes behind mine. “Today? Now?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He stumbles out of bed so fast, he half slides, half skates across the hardwood floor but still has the wherewithal to grab my overnight bag. “Let’s do this.”
Never mind the fact that per usual, he is buck naked. That he sleeps in the nude is one of my favorite parts of his routines.
“While I absolutely love the view,” I say, sitting up slowly and doing the a-little-this-way-a-little-that-way dance of pulling on comfy pajama pants. “Don’t you think you might want to get dressed first?”
He looks down, obviously completely surprised to see his own dick. “Fuck.”
He gets dressed in record time while I text Sarah, who is probably nursing her baby in the green room of Aunt Maggie’s old place (now hers), then my mom, and finally Nick’s mom. They’ll meet us at the hospital, of course, everyone eager to meet the new addition to our family. Then Nick comes over, kneels down on one knee in front of me, and ties my sneakers.
“Let’s go have a baby.” He looks up at me and grins. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”
“We’re gonna be great parents.”
Sure, we’ll make mistakes—what parents don’t?—but we also have people around us who care, not because of how we could burnish their image but just because. We have family—real family. And I mean that sincerely. While things are still a bit rocky between my dad and me, we really have been working hard to have a closer relationship. Happy is responsible for that.
Nick goes ahead of me down the stairs, holding out his hand so I can grasp it for balance. Then we walk out of the house, and Nick drives us to the hospital where many painful (even with the drugs) hours later, Margaret Elizabeth Victoria is born. But you know, her daddy just keeps calling her Happy—he isn’t the only one.
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