“Do you guys know I love you?” December asks, and my jaw clenches so tight I think I might crack teeth.
“Yeah,” Mitchell replies at the same time as Max.
“Good, don’t ever forget it,” she murmurs, and I squeeze my eyes closed.
Stepping away from the stove, I wrap my fingers around the edge of the counter, drop my head forward, and close my eyes. Like my boys, December has become vital to me, a living, breathing extension of my heart, a part of me that I know I wouldn’t be able to live without. Until her, I never believed in happily ever afters, but I know she was brought into my boys’ and my life to prove they really do exist.
Epilogue
December
“YOU DID OKAY for yourself, baby girl.” I look up as my dad comes to stand next to me then lean into him when he wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“I did, didn’t I?” I reply quietly, turning to watch my boys mingle with my family like they have always belonged.
“They love you.”
“I love them,” I say, then add, “I always knew I wanted to find a guy who loved me as much as you do. I just never thought I would.” His arm gets tighter. “I’m glad I was wrong about that.”
“Me too.” He kisses my hair and my eyes close.
“Thank you for being the best Dad in the world.” I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head against his chest.
“I think your guys are waiting for you,” Dad tells me, and I open my eyes and see Gareth, Mitchell, and Max standing together under a string of lights set up around the pergola. Wondering what they’re up to, I walk toward them, and my heart lodges in my throat when Gareth drops to one knee.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking you to spend the rest of your life with me.”
“And me,” Mitchell says.
“And me,” Max adds.
I look around at my family then at my boys, and tears spill from my eyes.
“What do you say, baby? Are you gonna run or jump?”
“Jump. Definitely jump!” I rush toward him and throw myself into his arms, laughing as I pepper kisses on his face. I lean back when he takes my hand and watch, holding my breath, as he slides a gorgeous yellow gold ring with one large diamond and two smaller ones up against it onto my finger. I stare at the ring then look at my boys and know wherever Beth is, she’s an idiot for not appreciating what she had. I also know I will never make the same mistake.
_______________
One year later . . .
“Open them,” I say, and both Mitchell and Max tear into their boxes wrapped in white paper then toss the tissue paper out onto the floor. I see the looks of confusion then realization fill their eyes and laugh when they both look between their father and me.
“Seriously?” Max asks.
“No way,” Mitchell says, holding up his shirt that says Big Brother #1 the exact same shirt as his brother’s, except Max’s says Big Brother #2.
“Way.” I laugh, and then start to cry when they rush forward to hug me. “I love you boys. I hope you know that.”
“We know. You tell us all the time,” Max says, letting me go so he can hug his dad while Mitchell sits next to me.
I do tell them I love them all the time. Fearing that you will never be able to tell the people you love how you feel will do that to you. Now, not a day goes by where I don’t show them exactly what they mean to me. And I’m sure sometimes I sound like a broken record telling them that I love them all the time, but oh well. Some things are worth repeating.
“Hey, December,” Max calls out, sounding shy and I look to where he’s still wrapped in his dad’s arms.
“Yeah honey?”
“Umm, do you think that maybe since the baby will call you mom, that maybe we could call you mom too? You know just so he or she isn’t confused?”
My heart lodges in my throat and I look at Mitchell and he nods then at Gareth who smiles softly. “I would love that,” I barely get out over the lump in my throat.
“Awesome,” he says softly, and I sob.
_______________
Eight months later . . .
“Let me have her,” I hear Mitchell say, and even though I’m completely exhausted after almost fifteen hours of labor, I still find the strength to smile.
“It’s my turn to hold her. You had her for-like-ever,” Max hisses quietly, and I force my eyes open. It takes a minute for them to focus in the dim lighting, but when they do, I see my boys sitting on the small couch next to my bed, fussing over their sister.