Make You Miss Me by B. Celeste
EPILOGUE
FLETCHER
“She kind of looks weird,” Dominic says, staring down at the small baby wrapped in a pink blanket. “Is she supposed to be that red?”
I chuckle at my son’s inquiry, looking up at the pinched expression he’s watching his sister with. “Yeah, buddy. You looked exactly like this when you were born.”
Nicki shakes his head, still staring at the little girl who’s snoozing in my cradled arms. “I didn’t look like that, Dad. It’s impossible because Stevie isn’t my mom. We have different genetics.”
I see he’s putting the knowledge he learned at school to the test. Now that he’s in sixth grade, he’s stopped calling my fiancée Ms. Foster. It took quite a bit of time to get him to start using her first name, but he’s gotten used to it by now. “You’re right, Nic. There are some differences. But you were both pretty tiny when you were born, and her coloring will even out like yours did.”
Bella Anise Miller is only a few hours and I already love everything about her. The speckles of dark hair on her head, the dark brown eyes that are nearly identical to mine. But her face is all her mom’s.
I smile down at her, completely enamored by the soft noises she makes as she sleeps. “What do you think?” I ask my firstborn.
When I move my gaze to study him, he’s lifting his shoulders. He’s sprouted a solid inch over the past few months. He’ll be taller than Stevie in no time. “She’s okay, I guess. I thought she’d be more exciting, but she’s just slept the whole time.”
As if he’s lost interest, he turns and walks over to where Stevie is laying in the hospital bed watching us. “Don’t worry, Nicki, she won’t be sleeping for long,” my soon-to-be wife tells him, an amused smile on her tired face.
The labor was intense, and if Bella hadn’t decided to grace us after one more push, Stevie was going to have to be wheeled away to get a C-section. Something she’s been hyperventilating about since she decided to Google every worst-case scenario known to man as her due date got closer. But just like I knew she would, she soldiered on until we heard the first cry coming from the little bundle in my arms.
Dominic asks, “Do you think she’ll be normal or be like me?”
I frown. “Bud, we talked about this.”
“Yeah, but what if I want to have a sibling who’s like me?” His question is so innocent I have to blink and think about my response for a second.
It’s Stevie who answers. “No matter what, Bella is going to share a lot in common with you. I’m sure she’ll love dogs as much as you, enjoy all the history books you say you want to read her, and play whatever game you introduce her to.”
He contemplates that as he stares at the little girl who’s starting to wake up and squirm in my arms, her warm little body one I’m already willing to do whatever it takes to protect. “Fine, but she can’t have my marble. It’s mine.”
I grin.
Stevie stifles a laugh.
Then, Bella starts to cry.
That’s when Dominic murmurs, “Is she going to do that a lot? ‘Cause I voted we get a dog when you told me we were getting her instead. They only whine for a little while before we train them.”
My eyes pinch closed. “Nicki…”
“The pet store has more puppies like Admiral,” is what he replies with.
When I meet Stevie’s eyes, she’s smiling at my son. She loves him despite his blunt statements, and I love her all the more for it.
I look around the room at my family.
Our family.
My son, my daughter, the woman who agreed to be my wife a few months ago.
And, suddenly, I’m damn glad she decided to move across the street. The blue Cape Cod is the perfect house to mold our growing family in as the years go by. Even her mother said so when I officially met her.
“Be good to her,” is all Mary asked of me when we invited our families over to announce the pregnancy after the first trimester. The promise to her mother was one I made without hesitation.
Meanwhile her father simply shook my hand, patted my back, and asked, “Where’d you get that mower of yours, son?”
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