Merit
Granite Harbor, Maine
One Year Later
“Is that the last box?” I ask, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.
“Last box,” Eli says, setting it down in the living room.
“Here, I’ll take it, E,” I say.
“And have your husband rip my face off for allowing you to? Don’t think so, Bug. Where do you want it?”
My husband.
“Our bedroom.” It still sounds so surreal and beautiful at the same time.
We got married not long after I came back to Granite Harbor from California for the last time. Neither Ryan nor I is big on lots of people, but Ruthie insisted on helping to plan the wedding. In front of two hundred seventy-five people, Ryan and I were married. In true Granite Harbor fashion, the entire town shut down for the day.
I wore my mom’s wedding dress and her veil. Emily, too young to be a flower girl at the time, still wore a flower girl dress, and Alex carried her in. Hero and Rookie were our ring bearers. Though we didn’t allow Hero to carry the rings. He was still a puppy at the time and extremely inquisitive of anything that moved, which was everything mostly. We gave that responsibility to Rookie and did so with pride. I thought Rookie, too, was happy for Ryan. He’d always had a soft spot for him. Abbey and Alex stood with me while Eli and Pop stood with Ryan as we tearfully made our words count when we exchanged our own written vows.
Eddie married us in the same board shorts he still walks the aquarium with. Though rumor has it, he’s retiring soon and giving Abbey the reins, who married Ruben not long ago. I think Eddie and Abbey have worked out their differences, too. She might be late, but she’s a damn good leader.
A hit in the ribs makes me yelp. I look down at my extra-large belly and run a hand over it. “You can come out anytime, you know.” I’m a week overdue, and I feel it in my hips and legs.
I go to shut the front door, but before I can, our Chinese food shows up. I pull cash from my expandable mom jeans, the ones with no butt.
“Thanks, Eddie.” I exchange money for food.
“No problem, Merit. Dig the new house, by the way.”
It’s an older house that we renovated. Ryan is really crafty with his hands, and with the help of Eli, Ethan, Aaron, and Pop, they were able to get it done. The house is open from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen where there are granite slab countertops. There are four bedrooms. Our bedroom is downstairs, and there are three upstairs. A heated hardwood floor is in every room.
I feel Ryan’s arms slide around me, stealing the Chinese food.
“Hey! I will carry that.”
“Nope. Sorry. Doctor’s orders.” Ryan walks to the kitchen and places the two bags of Chinese food on the counter. He grabs paper plates and utensils, which we purchased earlier from Granite Harbor Grocery. No need to dig through the boxes to find plates.
Our friends, our family, are gathered out on the back deck. Hero and Rookie keep close tabs on each other and little Emily, who’s fully walking now. She looks just like Alex. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen, and she’s got my brother wrapped right around her little finger. She’s got all of us wrapped around her tiny finger.
The house sits on an acre, just above the Atlantic, next to the harbor where Ryan and I spent many days and nights.
Ryan walks to me as I watch our friends from the other side of the French doors. Eli, Alex, Emily, Pop, Meredith, Ethan, Aaron, Lydia, and Bryce—who made a surprise visit back to Granite Harbor because Alex, too, is due any day now with baby number two. They’re laughing. Loving. And enjoying what the last of summer brings.
Ryan reaches around and touches my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
We decided to find out what we were having. I know our Destiny is with my mom, watching us in close proximity. Keeping tabs on the family. I know my mom would be happy for Pop that he finally found a woman who pales in comparison to her.
Meredith and Pop said they’d never get married again, but they have promise rings. It’s really cute. A promise to each other that they’ll love one another until their days come to an end.
“Dinner’s ready!” Ryan calls, opening the French doors to our backyard. He sets the food down on the table along with the plates, utensils, and napkins.
I feel a gush of water come from between my legs. “Oh, God.”
Alex says, “Her water just broke.”
Hope Rebecca Taylor was born two hours later. A beautiful little girl with ten toes, ten little fingers, and a mess of hair. I guess that explains the heartburn.
I watch as Ryan sits with her in the chair, her on his chest, his arms securely holding her.
Some children are raised in extreme conditions. Some children don’t overcome. But some do. Ryan was terrified that he wasn’t going to be a good dad. Worried about not being able to bond with our daughter, love her like he should.
I repeated it over and over. “You’re going to be a natural, Ryan.”
The only reason I knew that was because of the way he treated me. The way he treated the people around him. The way he treated the clientele he came across in the field.
Sometimes, we live through traumas to show others how to do it. I believe we each have a walk of life, and sometimes, human decisions are made that affect us. But it’s how we come out of it, hopefully as better people.
I watch my life rock back and forth in the chair.
“I love you,” I whisper to Ryan.
But he’s fast asleep, holding the world in his hands.