Epilogue
Hannah
We were celebrating with a candlelit dinner at Stefano’s. The table was covered with white linen, set with china and crystal. Two candles burned on either side of a low bowl filled with flowers that added their aroma to the air. I’d accepted bites of lobster, dipped in melted butter and offered to me from Brett’s fork. Every decadent bite was delicious, every swallow of wine enhancing our meal. But I didn’t need any of the luxuries he had surprised me with. I would have been happy even if we were sitting in rickety plastic chairs outside some food truck, wiping smears of mustard and relish from our lips after biting into hotdogs.
“You are glowing.”
I smiled across the table, at the man who had not only wed me two years earlier, but had changed my very life a year ago today.
“It’s the candles,” I said.
He leaned forward and reached for my hand.
For a moment, my heart tripped, waiting for the command that had begun this journey. It hadn’t been all roses and candlelight. Some days I’d wondered if I could ever let go of all the stress that had made my life so miserable. But Brett had never once faltered. Over time, I’d learned that I didn’t need to be strong all the time. I’d stopped volunteering to chair every committee. I’d found far greater satisfaction in mentoring others, offering my help but not snatching at control.
Every Friday, I stood naked in the middle of our living room waiting for my maintenance. I had never thought I’d miss it, but I had… horribly during the times that my husband had deployed. But even with him thousands of miles away, I found that I wasn’t alone. I had an entire incredible circle of women who were my sisters… not by birth, but by the very fact that our husbands were soldiers. We cried together, prayed together, were strong for each other. And when our soldiers, our husbands, came home, we celebrated the gift of more time with the men who fought to keep us safe.
The warmth of his hand covering mine, the touch of his finger stroking along my wrist, brought me out of my thoughts to see him shaking his head.
“No. It’s not the candles. You’ve always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but tonight… tonight, it’s like you are lit from within.”
“If I am, that’s because you ignited the flame.” When he grinned, I couldn’t help but give a giggle. “Not that flame,” I said. “You’ve given me so much, and now I want to give you your anniversary gift.”
“I don’t need a gift, Hannah. Every day when I open my eyes, see you in my bed, feel you in my arms, I thank God for the gift of you.”
I heard the truth in his voice, but I still shook my head and pulled my hand from beneath his. “Close your eyes anyway, please.”
I loved the fact that he didn’t even ask why. He sat back and closed them, and I took a moment just to stare at his face. How could one person hold so much love for another?
After another moment, I took a deep breath. “Okay, open them.”
He did, but it took him a moment to drop his gaze to the table. When he lifted them again, I saw the wonder in their green depths.
We’d given each other the gift of paper for our first anniversary. Paper that had held our new vows. The traditional gift for the second year was cotton.
“Hannah? Are you… are we…” He lifted the gift from the table, a tiny cotton bootie in each hand. One blue… one pink.
“Yes,” I said. “You’re going to be a real daddy.”
Other diners might have been startled when he whooped and stood, pulling me from my chair and spinning me around. I laughed, loving the pure joy on his face. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes widening as he gently set me down.
“I… I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” I asked. “You’ve never cared what others thought before.”
“I still don’t,” he said, taking a seat and cradling me on his lap. “But you’re going to be a mommy.”
Cupping his face, I kissed him. “A little spinning won’t hurt me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I assured him, pulling his head down so that I could whisper in his ear. “And, this doesn’t mean we have to stop maintenance nights. We just have to be a bit more careful once I get huge.”
He reached to tug the necklace that he’d given me months earlier out of the neck of my dress. It was a pair of dog tags, not of aluminum, but of silver. He’d draped them over my head to lay between my naked breasts while I had stood ‘at ease’. Engraved on one was My Hannah, my love, my life, my recruit. Turning the other so that I could read it, he ran a finger over the lettering, speaking the words aloud: Property of Major Daddy.
“Babe, we can have a dozen children, and I will love and cherish every one. I will bounce our babies on my knee, but you will never doubt I am already a ‘real’ daddy. I am your daddy. The daddy who will keep you safe, love you always, and spank your ass when needed. Is that clear?”
I laughed, joy flooding through me, and as he placed his palm against my belly that was still flat, I snapped a salute. “Yes, sir. I’ll always be yours to command, Daddy.”
The End