“I don’t have a daddy,” she says quietly.
Tears form in my eyes and search for the right words. “You do now.”
Evelyn springs forward and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I love you, Evelyn,” I tell her in her ear before letting her go. I stand, but keep my hand on her shoulder, unwilling to let her go. When I look at Whiskey, she’s dabbing at her face and trying to smile at me.
The preacher breaks our moment by asking for our rings. Quinn hands them over, two new ones for her and one for me. I can’t wait for her to slip the band on my finger. I’m going to wear it proudly and never take it off.
“Repeat after me,” the preacher says as he hands Whiskey’s wedding band and engagement ring to me. So what if we’re doing things backwards? The point is, we’re doing them our way.
Whiskey holds her hand out and I take it in mine. I repeat what the preacher says as I slip the set onto her finger. She does the same for me and we lock hands, waiting for the words that tell me she’s mine.
“Hey, Daddy,” Evelyn says as she tugs on my jacket. “I think you’re supposed to kiss Mommy now.”
I can’t help but laugh as the most unthinkable words come tumbling out of my mouth. “Damn straight I am.”
It’s only when the preacher announces us as Mr. and Mrs. Ballard that I finally pull my lips away from my wife, and even then, it’s only for a minute.
Epilogue
Moving across country sucks. In hindsight, we should’ve left Evelyn with my parents until we were unpacked and settled in, but no, Ajay had the bright idea of bringing her with us. What should’ve been a five-day trip ended up being almost ten because we stopped at every tourist spot known to man along the way. Not a good idea, at least from where I was concerned. Honestly, I had this grand idea that Ajay and I would sow our oats in every State, like make it a game or something. A random pitstop in some unknown town, a romp in the trees along the highway, a backseat fuck in the middle of the night. Not that we’d tell people ‘Oh, yeah we screwed like rabbits in Oklahoma’, but that’s what I thought we were going to do. I get that Ajay was new to this whole parenting thing and he wanted Evelyn to love him, but I had a serious lady boner for my husband and wanted to screw his brains out every chance I could get.
However, I wouldn’t trade those two weeks for anything because I was with Ajay and Evelyn, and every single photo I have is filled with smiles. So what, if our honeymoon was spent with a five year old sleeping between us and the only privacy we had was in the middle of the night, in a cramped bathroom, with me screaming into a towel? We were together and that’s the important part. Despite the storms we drove through, heat wave we endured and the nasty fast food we ate, Ajay made our trip perfect.
Now that we’re settling in and enjoying California, Evelyn and I are finding a happy medium in our routine. During the day, Chandler, Evelyn and I drive my fully decked out golf cart over to the pool. I never thought I’d be the type of woman who drives a golf cart but let me tell you something: It’s the best, and I’m not the only one in the neighborhood who has one. Ajay teases me and the other ladies though, saying we need to have a drag race to determine the leader of the pack. Personally, I think he’s jealous.
I also never pictured myself has a subdivision mom, but that’s what I am. I attend the condo association meetings, I help with our community events, and I walk with the other stay at home wives in the early morning. But the best part is having a pool. The girls love it and are both taking swimming lessons. For me, being four months pregnant, it helps keep me from overheating. I don’t know how I did it with Evelyn and the east coast humidity, but this California sun is a killer. I don’t know how I’m going to make it another five months because right now I feel like a beached whale.
Someone whistles and I look over at the fence where I see Ajay coming through, looking hot as fuck with his sunglasses on. He bends down and gives me a scorching kiss, almost falling into the pool with me. He left early this morning with Keane to beat the traffic into the city.
“How’s work?” I ask, as if his job is a normal nine to five. Sometimes I wish it were, but then watching him on stage, banging on those drums, and knowing that he’s coming home with me after the show makes the long hours so worth it. I’m also very thankful for Katelyn and her eagerness to be a grandmother because she always volunteers to take Evelyn and Chandler, giving Keane a night off and allowing Ajay and I to pretend like we’re still on our honeymoon.
“Good,” he says. He slips off his shoes and socks and sit down on the edge of the pool, his legs in the water. I stand between them and put my wet hands up the back of his shirt. He shivers but laughs it off. “The new album is almost done.”
“Does it have a release date yet?”
He shakes his head. “No, Elle’s working on it. Doesn’t have a title either.”
“Know what else doesn’t have a name?”
“Our son,” he says, placing his hand on my ever-growing mid-section.
We found out about two weeks ago that we were having a boy. We wanted to have one of those gender reveal parties, but we didn’t tell the technician not to tell us in time and she pointed out that the baby growing inside of me had a penis. My husband — in his oh so classy way — commented with, “yeah, he does.”
“How is my boy?” he asks.
“Giving me butterflies. I can’t wait for you to feel him kick.”
“It should be soon, right? That’s what the book said.”
I nod, loving the fact that he’s taken a hands-on approach to becoming a Dad. My fear though, is that their next tour will start and he’ll miss the delivery.
“I’ll be there,” he says, stroking my cheek.
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because I know you, Whiskey. But I promise you, I won’t miss the birth of our son. I’ll be there to hold your hand. I’m not missing this.” I lean into him, not caring that I may be getting him wet, and if he has an issue with it, he’s not saying.
As soon as the girls are done with their lesson, they both come over. Ajay stands and prepares for Evelyn to launch herself into his arms. “Daddy, I can do the breasted stroke,” she says, causing us to laugh.