ANTONIO
One year later
Watching my wife from across the room, smiling at something Palo is saying to her, my chest fills with pride, love, and possessiveness. Six months after I asked her to marry me, we had a small ceremony at a church in the city. The event was elegant and classy, and I surprised Libby that day with a horse-and-carriage ride to the church to give her a little more of her fairy tale. I’ve learned over the last year and a half that my wife might like nice things, but she doesn’t do over the top unless over the top can be done on a budget. She’s perfect for me in every way. I couldn’t be luckier.
“Two minutes till midnight!” someone yells.
Libby’s eyes find mine across the space.
I close the distance between us while grabbing a beer for myself and picking up a glass of champagne for her off the table.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” I ask when her front is tucked against mine and she smiles up at me.
“You might have mentioned it a time or two.” She takes the glass of champagne I hand her and holds it down at her side.
“I really love this dress.” My eyes roam over the tight red dress that hugs every beautiful inch of her frame while my hand slides around her hip to her back, pulling her closer to me.
“You mentioned that as well.” Her fingers dig into my sides as she grabs hold of my shirt.
“One minute!” Hector calls out into the roomful of people.
It’s our friends and family—a group of people that has seemed to grow over the last year.
“As much as I love it, I really can’t wait to take you home and get you out of it,” I whisper against her ear, feeling her shiver.
“Ten!” people start to count around us.
“Five . . . ,” I say as I lower my mouth to hers.
“One . . . Happy New Year!” everyone shouts while I kiss my wife.
She pulls her mouth from mine, and I watch her eyes as they open.
“Happy New Year, Daddy.”
Those four words spoken against my lips cause my lungs to tighten—along with my grasp on her.
“You’re pregnant?” I search her gaze as I stare down at her in disbelief.
“Yes.” She smiles as she nods.
Picking her up off the ground, I spin her around in a circle and listen to her laugh. “We’re pregnant?”
“Yes.” I watch her nod again as tears fill her beautiful eyes. “Are you happy?”
“God, yes.” I gather her against me and feel my throat close. I never would have guessed that the woman in my arms would give me everything I ever needed and then some. That she would show me what love is, show me that it’s okay to trust another person, show me that it’s okay to go after my own dreams.
“Love you, baby,” I whisper.
“I love you, too,” she whispers back, looking into my eyes.
She does love me. How or why, I don’t know. But I’m one lucky guy.
ANTONIO
“Like this, Daddy?”
I look down at my beautiful daughter, Esmeralda, and smile.
“Yeah, baby. Just like that,” I encourage as she presses out a ball of dough onto the flat metal surface. Her hair—the same color as her mom’s—is tied back in a ponytail. Her tongue is sticking out of her mouth.
“Are you going to teach me how to toss it in the air?” she asks hopefully.
I laugh.
“Do you want me to teach you how to toss it in the air?”
“Yeah! That’s the funniest part.”
“All right.” I pick up a pizza dough that I have already pressed out and toss it into the air, showing her how to do it. Then I watch her try with an amused smile on my face.
“Mommy, look,” Esmeralda says. I turn my eyes to my wife and watch her walk toward us. Seeing the look in her eyes, I find it almost hard to breathe. Dropping my eyes to our daughter, I watch her toss the ball of dough into the air and twirl it around.
“If you get any better at that, honey, I’m going to put you to work.” Libby smiles at our girl before resting her hand against my arm. Looking down into her eyes, I smile. Then I drop my mouth to hers for a quick kiss.
“I thought you were supposed to be taking the day off . . . ,” I say.
She rolls her eyes.
“I slept in. I’m okay now,” she says.
I move my eyes to her stomach. She’s nine months pregnant, and this pregnancy has been harder on her than the last.
“You need to be home, Princess. You need to rest.”
“I want to be here, spending time with my family,” she counters.
I sigh, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle. She loves the pizzeria. It’s her baby, too, and dragging her away from it is like pulling teeth.
“We will all go home together as soon as our pizzas are done.”
“I have some stuff to take care of in the office.”
“Don’t make me talk to Hector,” I whisper.
She narrows her eyes. The week after she found out she was pregnant with Esmeralda, she offered Hector and Marco part of Princess Pizza. Even though it was her baby, she knew they would love and care for it just as much as she did. So they worked it out where the three of them would each work a couple of days a week and hire extra people to help take over. Now my wife only works two days a week and does most of the paperwork.
“Fine. We’ll all go home when the pizzas are done,” she gives in.
I fight back a smile, knowing she won’t like that much.
“Don’t pout, Princess. I’m just worried about you and our boy.”
“I know,” she agrees quietly, rubbing her belly, my son no doubt kicking up a storm.
Placing another soft kiss on her lips, we turn our attention to our daughter. We watch her toss her pizza dough into the air and spin it around before she puts her toppings on it and I place it in the oven.
“Oh god!” Libby cries, tucking her face against my chest.
I pull my eyes from the TV and frown. She’s never scared when we’re watching scary movies.
“It’s happening.”
“What?” I pull her face away from my chest and look into her wide eyes.
“I . . .” She stops and clutches her hands to her stomach.
I feel my eyes widen. “Shit.” I get off the couch and lean down over her. “Breathe, baby.”
“I’m breathing.” Her mouth pinches, and her eyes fill with worry. “I feel . . . he’s coming.”
“I’m going to get Esmeralda up and grab the bag. Just stay here and breathe,” I order.
She nods.
“Be right back.” I place a quick kiss on the top of her head, then run for Esmeralda’s room. I turn on the light so I don’t kill myself by tripping over one of the toys scattered across her bedroom floor.
“Daddy . . .”
“You need to get up and get dressed, baby. Mommy’s going to be having your brother soon,” I tell her.
A beautiful smile lights up her face before she bounds from her bed and starts to rush around her room.
Knowing she’s getting ready, I head for the master suite and grab Libby’s hospital bag from the closet. I toss it on the bed before I grab a pair of jeans and put them on, then grab a shirt and put that on, too. Dressed, I grab some clothes for Libby and head back out to the living room.
She’s now kneeling on the couch, with her face tucked into a pillow.
“Something’s wrong,” she whimpers, lifting her head. “You should call an ambulance.”
“We’ll make it to the hospital faster than an ambulance can get here, Princess,” I tell her, smoothing her hair away from her damp forehead.
She shakes her head.
“No, he’s coming. I can feel him.”
“You can feel him . . . ,” I repeat as my stomach sinks.
“Yes!” she cries as she tucks her face back into the couch, her body arching awkwardly.
Seeing the amount of pain she’s in, I quickly call 911. I hang up when they tell me they are on the way.
“It’s going to be okay, Princess.” I pull her pants down over her hips and almost pass out when I see the crown of my son’s head. “Fuck.” I rush to the bathroom and grab some towels, then go back to her and help her move to her back.
“Daddy . . . ?” Esmeralda’s worry-filled voice fills the otherwise-silent room.
I look at our girl, who’s standing in the hall.
“It’s okay, baby. I need you to get me a bowl of warm water,” I tell her.
She runs to the kitchen.
“I’m so scared, Antonio,” Libby whispers.
My eyes lock with hers.
“It’s going to be okay,” I assure her, tucking some towels under her bottom. “An ambulance is on the way.”
I know they won’t make it in time—our boy is almost here. “Push if you feel like you need to push,” I encourage as she pants.
Seeing her nod, I pray that I can remember everything I learned in training.
“Oh god.” She curls around her stomach.
I hold her legs open and feel my heart thunder against my rib cage as our son’s head appears.
“The baby is crowning,” I say to her.
When Esmeralda comes back with a bowl of water, I take it. “Go wait by the door, baby. An ambulance will be here soon. When they get here, just let them in.”
“Is Mommy okay?” she asks.
“I’m okay, honey.” Libby gives her a tight smile, then closes her eyes as another contraction rips through her. A long groan comes out of her.
“Go, baby.”
“Okay,” Esmeralda whispers before running off to the front door.
“I need to push again,” Libby whimpers in pain. “It’s coming, Antonio,” she says to me, fear filling her eyes.
“It’s okay, Princess. Push. You’re doing so good.” I rub her thigh. Looking down between her legs, I see our son’s head coming out a bit more.
“I’m so scared,” she says, panting.
“I know, baby. But I promise it’s going to be okay.” I try to keep my voice calm, but my body is almost shaking in fear. “I need you to bear down. You can do it.”
“Okay.” Her eyes close tight as she curls herself around her stomach once more. I wrap my hands around our son’s head and let out a sigh of relief when his shoulders slide out, then the rest of his body. I quickly wrap him in a clean dry towel and settle him against her chest. The sound of his wails now fills the room as my wife holds him.
“He’s so beautiful.” She looks at me, quietly sobbing.
“They’re here!” Esmeralda yells from the front door.
I look at my wife and see her eyes on our son.
“They’re here!” Esmeralda runs into the room, followed by two paramedics.
“Good job, baby,” I tell her.
She smiles at me before going to her mom and resting her head next to her brother’s on Libby’s chest. Libby opens up her arms so she can hold our children together.
Seeing my family all together—healthy, alive, and breathing—I know that everything will be okay.
Years later
MISS INA
“Grandma Ina, can you tell me a story?” Olivia, Fawn and Levi’s daughter, asks as she comes over to sit next to me on the couch.
I smile down at the sweet girl. I tried to tell all the children’s mothers that I didn’t want to be called Grandma Ina, but like always, they ignored me. I will never admit it to anyone, but I do love it. Especially since I don’t have grandchildren of my own to spoil.
“What story would you like me to tell you, dear?”
“The one about Mommy and Daddy.”
“Oh, I want to hear the story of my mommy and daddy,” Esmeralda says excitedly, coming over to take a seat next to her cousin.
“I don’t want to hear about my mom and dad. I already have to see them kissing and stuff. It’s so gross,” Dustin, Mackenzie and Wesley’s son, says, making a face that has my lips twitching.
Still, he doesn’t leave—he even gets a little closer when I start.
Quietly, I tell them the stories of how each of their parents found love, then end softly with what I say every time they ask to hear the story: “Whether you run into it, stumble into it, or get tossed into it, love has a way of finding you.”
“I hope love finds me one day. I want to marry a prince,” Olivia says with a dreamy sigh.
“I want to marry a policeman,” Esmeralda says with a grin. “That way I can shoot his gun.”
Oh dear.
“I never want to get married. Girls are gross,” Dustin complains.
Both his cousins look at him with narrowed eyes.
“Girls are not gross. Boys are gross. They stink,” Olivia says, getting off the couch.
“Yeah, and they do weird stuff like eat glue,” Esmeralda adds.
“I don’t smell or eat glue,” Dustin says, defending his gender.
I start to laugh. Yes, I do love this. I’m lucky to have had a chance to experience the beauty of love and family even after thinking I never would again . . .
But, like I said, love happens when you least expect it. Even to old women.