Rex

After watching the clip of Brix tackling Richard several times, I grab my phone and click his number. It rings a few times and goes to voicemail. I click to send him a message, telling him to call me when he gets a chance. Next, I decide to give officer McGuire a quick call since she was not the arresting officer in the news clip.

“Officer McGuire,” she answers in the identical tone as the previous call.

“I just saw Richard was arrested on the news and was wondering if everything went okay.” I pause, hoping that everything worked out well.

“I don’t normally like to have civilians getting involved, but in this case, it worked out. You must’ve shared the location with them?” she asks suspiciously.

“I did. But I regretted it as soon as I found out they were actually in the neighborhood,” I reply. “I told them not to get involved.”

“It would’ve been pretty hard for them to watch him walk away.”

“I know. That’s why I regretted telling them.”

“Detective Casey is going through Richard’s laptop right now, and Detective Freeworth is taking statements from Daphne and Irwin. There appears to be additional videos of young girls on his hard drive. Some of them are of Daphne showering and things like that,” she says with disgust in her voice. “We’ll get a timeline pieced together.”

“It’s probably a good thing that Daphne got away from him,” I reply, thinking he may be a bigger creep than we first suspected. “I’ll let you go. I just wanted to check up on those two.” I still can’t believe his name is Irwin. My grandpa’s brother was named Irwin, and he certainly didn’t look anything like Brix. I shove my phone into my pocket and realize I’m still carrying around the engagement ring. I casually walk past the changing room and to the bedroom to stash it at the bottom of my sock drawer. It’s cliché, but I’m pretty sure it’s the last place she’s going to find it. I stop out in the hallway on my way back to the living room and simply watch her as she nurses. I’ve been thinking about where I want to take her on Friday night and how I want to give her the ring. I want it to be something she’ll never forget, but romantic gestures have never been my strong suit.

“Could you come help me, Rexton?” Mom asks, peering down the hallway. No matter how many times I’ve told her I prefer Rex, she insists on calling me that. Unless she’s mad, then it’s Rexton Phillip.

“What do you need help with?”

“Will you pull apart the chicken?” she asks, scrunching up her face. “I want to put the meat in with the rice, but I’ve always hated handling chicken.”

“Sure. It’s already cooked, you know.” I chuckle, pulling off the legs first. “My attorney sent a certified letter to Jessica today. I’m hoping she will read through the consequences of any further actions and come to her senses. I really don’t want a nasty court battle.”

“I saw her on my schedule for Friday morning, so hopefully, she will still come,” Mom says with a somber expression. “I can usually talk her down, but she has some volatile mood swings.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that. By the way, could you stay over Friday night? I would like to make it a really special night for Felicia. I bought her a ring today,” I whisper, not wanting her to hear.

“A ring, huh? How much was it?” she asks, always being a nosy one.

“Too much, but I think she’s really going to like it. It’s a carat and a half, princess-cut,” I tell her, knowing that she’s a diamond connoisseur.

“Oh, very trendy. I’m sure she’ll love it.” She stirs the pieces of chicken into the pot of rice as I drop them in. “Do I get to see it?”

“I have it hidden, but you’ll be the first to see it after I give it to her,” I promise. “Can you stay over on Friday night?”

“Well, I certainly don’t have any other late-night plans, and I know your father won’t miss me, so why not?” she says with a little shrug. “As long as Felecia fills a few of those bottles beforehand, it should all be fine.”

“What are you two scheming about?” Felicia asks, walking into the kitchen with Michael and a suspicious look.

“Friday night,” I answer before Mom has a chance to speak. “You’ll have to make up a few bottles for him in case we stay out late.”

“How late are we talking?” she asks, looking down at the baby.

“Overnight. We’ll be home by breakfast,” I assure her. I can tell she doesn’t like the idea by the look on her face, but I want to keep our options open. “We’ll probably be home earlier, but make a couple of extra bottles just in case.”

“Okay, but I’ve been nursing every two to three hours.” The worry on her face intensifies.

“I raised two myself, so no worries,” Mom says, pulling the broccoli and green beans from the steamer. “I even made you some broccoli, but I’m sticking to the green beans.” She laughs and gestures for us to take a plate. “You two help yourselves. I’ll sit with my little grandson for a few minutes.”

I don’t want to say anything, but this is the most pleasant Mom has been in years. As long as I can remember, actually. Maybe it’s because she never thought she would have grandchildren and now she does. She actually lit up when Felicia said she wanted two boys and two girls last night. Part of it is probably due to her decision to cut back at work. With Michael, she finally has an excuse to not work as much. Spending long days at the office helping everyone else with their problems has to be draining. It’s good to see her smiling. It’s something I rarely saw growing up.

Eight PM Friday Evening

Felicia

I’ve had a pit in my stomach ever since Rex told me he wanted to spend the night downtown. He claims that since we got thrust into parenthood so quickly, we need to step back for an evening and enjoy a little time alone. Michael has adjusted to being home with us, but I didn’t feel at all comfortable leaving him tonight. “Wow, this restaurant is beautiful.”

“A friend of mine recommended this place. He said the filet mignon and roasted duck breast are both to die for,” Rex tells me upon entering. “Since you don’t have to breastfeed until tomorrow, you can even have a glass or two of wine.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” I tell him, still new to all of this.

“They call it pump and dump. If you have wine, just pump later on and throw it away,” he says, as if he’s an expert on the topic.

“I’m aware of the concept. We’ll see.” I still can’t believe I have to pack a breast pump in my overnight bag. It’s something you don’t really think about until you’re actually breastfeeding. They will continue to produce milk whether the little guy uses it or not. “I finally got the volume up to where it needs to be after all the pumping I’ve done the past few days. I wanted to make sure she has enough to last the night.”

“It’ll be fine.” Rex leads us to the maître d. “Worst case, Mom can use some formula.”

I know it’s true, but I feel a bit protective. Michael is so new to our lives that I want to be the one feeding him, and not from a bottle. The aromas coming from the kitchen are absolutely amazing, so I decide to relax and enjoy a nice dinner. I haven’t been out of the house since we brought Michael home, so this is nice. We arrive at a cute little table back in the corner, a bit secluded from the other guests. “This is perfect,” I tell Rex as we’re seated. We’ve eaten out many times in the past few months, but tonight feels extra-special. Maybe it’s because there is a new bond between us. “I can’t believe you started out with those same blue eyes and now yours are a caramel color.”

“Yeah, Mom said mine started out blue, then they took on a more hazel look before finally turning amber,” he replies. “I’m not sure how old I was when my eyes settled on amber.”

“Well, I love the color of your eyes, but if Michael’s stay as blue as they are now, that would be cool too.” I spread out my napkin on my lap and pick up the menu. “I’m in the mood for something spicy.” I laugh and glance over at Rex, looking for a reaction.

“I think tonight, you should eat and drink whatever you want,” he says with a smile. “This is our night out, so enjoy it.”

“On second thought, I’m having the confit chicken. I love it with fingerling potatoes,” I reply, coming across it on the menu. “And the raspberry cheesecake for dessert.”

“Sounds delicious. What would you like to drink?” Rex asks, looking through the wine list. “A nice French Boudreaux would go well with your chicken.”

“Perfect.” I lean in and give him a kiss. “This is really nice.” Even though I feel a bit guilty for not being home, it feels good to have each other’s undivided attention for a few hours. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life. Is that strange?”

“I’ve thought about that too.” He stares at me with loving eyes. “I’m not even going to pretend to know how this universe works, but it seems that I must’ve known you in a former life or something. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one.”

“That first dinner at your place.” I shake my head at the recollection. “After seeing the sext messages from Kathy and learning about your past, my mind was telling me to run. I’m really glad that I chose to listen to my heart instead. Because it was telling me that you were exactly what I needed. I can’t imagine going back to my old life before you.”

“I wanted to save this for a larger than life romantic gesture later tonight, but this moment seems too perfect,” he says, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a little black box. My mind instantly begins to race upon seeing it. “I know I asked you the day Michael was born, but I wasn’t properly prepared.” He opens the box, exposing the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. It literally explodes with sparkles. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course!” I lunge forward to kiss him and knock my water glass right off the table. The sound of shattering glass catches everyone off-guard and instantly pulls me from the most spectacular moment of my life. “Oh, my God! I’m ruining everything.”

“Give me your hand,” he says in an incredibly calm voice. Taking my hand, he slips the ring onto my finger and gives me a long, sensuous kiss as a busboy begins retrieving the broken glass from beneath us. “I love you, Felicia. As long as your answer is yes, nothing could spoil this moment.”

“Are we ready to order?” the waiter asks, glaring at me over Rex’s shoulder. He glances down at the busboy before giving me a raised eyebrow. I clear my throat and pick up the menu, deciding not to give him the satisfaction of hearing me grovel for forgiveness.

“She’ll have the confit chicken with the fingerling potatoes,” Rex says, taking control of the situation. “I’ll have the buffalo filet with the potatoes au gratin, and we would like a bottle of the 2008 Château Montrose to go along with that.”

“Really? All excellent selections.” The pretentious waiter immediately changes his tune. “We’ll have that right out to you.” He actually flashes a warm smile before turning to put in our order.

“Apparently, he approves of your wine selection.” I giggle, running my fingers along his masculine jawline.

“Well, the price was listed as market price,” he replies with a smirk. “So the thought of a twenty percent tip on whatever that might be obviously changed his attitude.” He leans into me, kissing me once again. “I’ve never been more excited about the future. We’re going to have a fantastic life together.”

“I know.” Tears spring into the corners of my eyes. This is more than I ever dreamed of having, probably more than either of us ever dreamed of. Both Margie and Rex have talked about how he thought he was never going to get married or have children. After four days, we’re both very tired, but I think we’re going to be great parents. For the moment, though, I’m ready for a nice meal and a glass of wonderful French wine. I look down as the diamond in my ring catches the light. “Thank you for this. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. I knew it was the one right when I saw it, just like you.” He gives me another kiss. “It looks spectacular under these lights,” he adds, gazing at it with appreciation. “That part was just luck.”

As the server pours us each a glass of wine, I almost have to pinch myself. My life has done a complete one-eighty so quickly that it sometimes seems as if it’s a dream. If it is, I only hope I never wake up. “To us,” I say, lifting my glass from the table.

“To a spectacular future,” he says, barely touching his glass against mine. “I thought I’d better go easy on that since the wait staff didn’t respond well to our first broken glass,” he adds with a laugh. “I hope the food is really good, because the atmosphere is a little too stuffy for me.”

“It is, but the company makes up for it,” I reply, taking another sip of wine. Sitting here staring into those sexy amber eyes of his is something that will never get old. So far, our journey has been a little crazy, but I can tell things are going to calm down quite a bit since the arrival of the little man. That’s perfectly fine with me. I don’t need any more inquisitions from friends.