Almost a year later, give or take a month or so
Happy birthday to me…
He hummed quietly to himself as he shifted his large body, trying to find some kind of comfortable position in the unforgiving chair at the side of Molly’s bed, all the while keeping one eye on the miracle to his right.
A few years ago, if somebody had asked Devil Delancy how he thought he’d be celebrating this much bemoaned birthday, his current position was certainly not what he would have anticipated. Chuckling softly to himself, he shook his head. Not even close. In fact, his current location was the last place the man he’d used to be would have ever expected to be now.
Not that he was complaining about his accommodations now. Fuck, no. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
While celebrating this milestone with fatherhood at age forty wasn’t something the old Devil would have ever been able to believe (or stomach, for that matter), the new Devil was thrilled to have this chance. After all, Molly had delivered him one hell of a birthday present.
Sure, he’d spent the last nineteen hours alternately being fluently cursed for his very existence, painfully threatened with castration, and openly chastised for his lack of control in the bedroom by his exhausted but beautiful wife as she labored to bring their child into the world. But he couldn’t say he was disappointed with the results, he thought with a satisfied look at the sleeping cherub inside the little bassinet next to the hospital bed.
Nope, he felt like he’d just won the lottery, and the sleeping angel (or mini-minion, as his wife’s best friend, Sami, called her) was the prize of a lifetime. Little Devlynn Kathleen Delancy was the culmination of every dream he’d ever had. Named for their beloved Nana – the woman responsible for pushing her parents together - little Dev was an unquestioned beauty. A healthy seven pounds, she had Molly’s creamy complexion and red hair and Devil’s striking blue eyes. She was a true combination of both her mother and father.
And he had his wife to thank for that, he thought silently as he transferred his adoring gaze from his daughter to her mother. Eyes closed, Molly’s pale skin glowed in the dim light, although a hint of color was returning to her wan cheeks. It had been a hard labor, but his wife had stepped up to the challenge of bringing their child into the world with her usual grace and aplomb – meaning she’d cursed every man with a beating heart who’d gotten within a three-foot radius of her to the depths of hell for the length of her labor and nearly crushed his hand every time she’d endured a contraction. At the height of her agony, she’d labeled him a soulless monster who had maliciously impregnated her with his spawn, a la Rosemary’s Baby. She’d gone on to share a vividly detailed description of how she’d be making him pay for that sin that had involved the words duct tape, battery acid, and pliers.
Needless to say, he’d learned the hard way that it was ill-advised to attempt to reason with a woman in the throes of childbirth. When cornered, she’ll bite, he silently chuckled with a rueful look down at the distinct teeth marks on top of his hand.
Shrugging to himself, he knew that any scars would be a tiny price to play for the lifelong joy Molly had given him. His eyes drifted over his wife’s quiet, sleeping form and lingered on the tee shirt she wore over her still-swollen belly. She’d been wearing the now-faded red shirt for months, the white words faint but readable... “The Devil Made Me Do It.” He’d had it made and given it to her the day after she’d told him she was having their baby, and she’d worn it to bed almost every night since. She’d insisted they pack it for the hospital, and even exhausted, Molly had insisted on changing into it a few hours ago.
Unable to resist touching the woman that had given him everything that meant anything to him, he leaned forward to brush the backs of his fingers against her soft cheek. He smiled when she snuffled in her sleep and pressed her cheek against his hand. That was his Molly – always responsive – even dead-on-her-feet tired. She never missed an opportunity to revel in his touch; even unconscious, she gravitated toward him. It was one of the countless ways that he always knew without a word spoken between them that she belonged to him and always would.
He could watch her for hours, but the faint disgruntled whimpers coming from his right caught his attention quickly. Pushing out of the chair, he quickly moved to his daughter’s side and gazed down at her with rapt attention. The baby’s face was scrunched up into an unhappy expression that couldn’t be missed, but it was the tiny fists flailing above her head that pulled a low chuckle from him. Yes, his theory that Devlynn would have her Momma’s mercurial temperament was definitely on its way to being proven as the infant began an unhappy tantrum.
“Hey, now,” Devil soothed, sliding one hand beneath his little girl’s head and the other curling around her bottom before lifting her against his chest, “What’s the problem here, Princess?” He knew she had a dry diaper, but it was possible she was hungry. The nurse had said the child would let her mother know when she was ready for a meal. He assumed this is what it looked like when Devlynn Kathleen Delancy wished to dine on demand. Carrying his baby to Molly’s side, he watched as his wife’s eyelids fluttered before opening fully.
“Devil?” Molly whispered, lifting her head and blinking away sleep. “Is she okay?” she asked worriedly, already holding her arms out for their baby in a picture of motherly devotion. He’d known from the second Molly told him that he was going to be a daddy that even if he had his doubts about being a good parent, Molly would more than make up for his shortcomings. The look she wore on her face only verified what he’d known all along.
Molly Delancy was going to make his child one hell of a mother.
Devil smiled serenely, gently bouncing his whimpering daughter in his arms. “Hungry, I think. She’s unimpressed that I don’t have the equipment she needs.”
Lifting her shirt with one hand, Molly unlatched her nursing bra as Devil waited with their little girl. Gesturing for the baby, she murmured, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Want me to get that lactation nurse?” Devil asked, settling their baby in the cradle of Molly’s arms.
“Let me try first,” Molly whispered, nudging her dusky nipple against the baby’s mouth. Gasping as her daughter’s lips parted and latched on, she smiled radiantly. “She’s doing it, Devil,” Molly breathed, lifting her excited eyes to her husband.
Fascinated, Devil watched Molly nurse their child, amazed by the sight. “I see,” he murmured, lifting a hand to run his fingers over Molly’s hair as she settled back against the pillows.
After a few minutes of watching their daughter suckle, Molly shifted her attention back to her husband. “So, what time is it?” she asked, glancing around the room. “Did everybody leave?”
Devil nodded without taking his eyes off their baby, hypnotized by the sight of her little bow mouth tugging at her momma’s breast. “Sami and Vivian left about an hour ago. Vivian was barely holding her head up. Evidently, making partner in her law firm is almost as exhausting as giving birth. She looked on the verge of collapse. Sami almost had to carry her out of here, I think. And Armando wasn’t far behind them. He said something about Nick and him meeting with their wedding planner tonight. Honest to God, I tuned out after he started debating the merits of orchids versus roses. I’m telling you, babe, that wedding is going off the rails. With my luck, those two are going to have me in a sky blue tuxedo with ruffles while singing them down the aisle to a rousing rendition of Copacabana before it’s done.”
Molly couldn’t help giggling at the long-suffering exasperation in her husband’s voice. “You know, at some point you’re going to have to make your peace with the fact that your Executive Assistant is marrying your Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions. You were the one that introduced them, after all. Do I need to remind you that the best man is supposed to be supportive of the groom?”
“Yeah,” Devil snorted. “Which one? There are two grooms, and they’re equally batshit crazy.”
“Both.” Molly laughed gently. “And watch your language,” she chided, shuffling the baby to her other breast. “We’ve got mini-ears now.”
Nodding, Devil sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I just need you to understand I still blame you for this best man business, you little sneak,” he continued in a deep growl, lowering his voice when their daughter rooted for a moment in her mother’s arms. “You just had to go and volunteer our house for the ceremony and the reception when I wasn’t listening. Not only that, but you enlisted Nana’s help. After the last few months, I’m beginning to think my own grandmother loves that crazy-ass new best friend of yours more than she does me! And I’m bankrolling the damn affair.”
“Your Nana thinks Mannie hung the moon, Devil. Get over it. You have to learn to share affection now. Besides, you don’t wanna anger the highly-emotional man that keeps your schedule finely tuned, has upper management living in fear of him, and makes sure that Nana has a fresh arrangement of flowers delivered to her every week with a loving card from her wonderful grandson. Life might become very hard for you if you fell from Mannie’s good graces,” she reminded him, carefully moving Devlynn’s head to allow the baby to rest against the pillow Devil shifted toward them. “Speaking of Nana, did Momma and Daddy take her home?”
“They all left about half an hour after you fell asleep. But not before your mother decided that it was highly improper for her newest granddaughter to be wearing an onesie embroidered with “Spawn of Satan”. She had our daughter redressed and the offending garment stuffed in her purse in record time, mumbling under her breath about how she and Samantha needed to come to an understanding about Devlynn’s wardrobe. I’m pretty sure she laid in wait in the parking lot to ambush Sami,” Devil reported gleefully.
“Oh, I hope she isn’t too hard on Sami. You know she had ten of those little outfits specially made in a rainbow of colors. They were the talk of the baby shower,” Molly reminisced, tracing a gentle finger over her baby’s simple pink nightgown.
“I’m sure they’ll come to an agreement,” Devil replied with a dismissive smile as he reached for his daughter.
Letting Devil take the baby, Molly watched as he carefully lifted her against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down her fragile spine as he attempted to coax a burp out of her. “What about Karen and Grant?” she asked.
Devil’s lips twitched. “Oh,” he drawled, lifting his eyebrows as he met his wife’s sparkling eyes. “Now you’re concerned for your poor older brother?”
“Devil…” Molly began in a warning tone.
“Karen went home with your parents, but Grant’s still around here somewhere – probably still icing his testicles.”
“Hey! I told him to put down the camera,” Molly stated defensively, tucking her bra back into place and lowering her t-shirt again.
“And I’ll remind you that just last week, you told everybody who would listen that you wanted every moment of Devlynn’s arrival recorded for posterity. He was merely trying to oblige you,” Devil returned, fighting the urge to laugh.
“I changed my mind,” Molly replied petulantly, reaching for the green soft drink can on the nearby tray, wincing slightly as she felt her body tug and pull in ways that reminded her that she had indeed just shot out a seven-pound watermelon from her precious woo woo.. “I can do that. I’m a woman. And I was a woman in labor!”
“Baby, you coaxed him closer on the promise of getting a better shot and then shoved the camera in his gonads. It was the most diabolical thing I’ve ever seen in my life – and I’ve seen a lot of things.”
Molly cringed and bit her thumb. “You should have stopped me!”
“Couldn’t,” Devil denied simply with a satisfied smirk. “I was too busy being grateful they were his balls and not mine,” he informed her with a straight face as Devlynn burped her agreement.
Shrugging as she took a sip of the clear liquid, she muttered, “I’ll apologize tomorrow.” Yawning, Molly watched as Devil rose and deposited their sleeping little girl back in her bassinet. Her heart swelled as she watched him bend and drop a kiss against her auburn-covered head. Waiting until he turned around again, she beamed at him. “We did good, didn’t we? She’s perfect,” she whispered, still slightly awed.
“She’s beyond perfect, Molly. Beautiful and healthy. It doesn’t get any better. But we didn’t do it. You did the work… endured the pain. I was just an extremely scared, seriously awed spectator.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I kicked your birthday’s ass with my gift, huh?” she teased as he approached the side of her bed and perched beside her hip. He easily captured her drink, depositing the can out of reach in mere seconds.
Bending, Devil captured her lips with his. “You did, darlin’,” he murmured against her mouth before he took her kiss. “Next to you, our daughter is the best damn present I’ve ever gotten in my life.”
Touching a hand to his jaw, Molly smiled against his lips. “That’s good. Because next year, you’re getting socks. Making a homemade gift for you is hard work.”
“Babe, I’ve got everything I need right here in this room.”
Her lips sizzled as he gently kissed her once again, and Molly had to agree. Finally, everything had fallen perfectly into place. They both had everything that they could ever want....together.
Apparently Fate...and a meddling Irish grandmother with a killer wooden spoon...had obviously known what was best for them both, after all.
~~~** THE END **~~~