Eighteen months later
Charlie
I’d never seen my parents’ house covered in so much pink.
Pink streamers hung from the banisters, along with classy, delicate pink lights that dangled from rose gold wire. There were pink chairs at every pink tablecloth-covered table. The napkins that wrapped around the silverware were pink, along with the plates and glasses, and of course, the cake was pink, too — and covered with glitter. Mom had even had two kiddie pools put in, though it was only thirty degrees outside and just weeks from Christmas. Both were heated, with pink walls and lights to illuminate the water, and there were more balloons in the house than I remembered at my college graduation party.
It was Daisy’s first birthday.
I scanned the entertainment room with a smile as I balanced a fresh pitcher of strawberry lemonade in one hand and a pack of wipes in the other. There were kids all over the house — some that I knew, most that my mother knew from other grandparents at the country club. Even Daisy’s older cousin, Callie, was in attendance, along with my brother and Christina. They sat at the edge of one of the pools, holding Callie’s hand as she splashed around.
Mom was fussing with the plates on the table where the large cake was, talking eighty-miles-per-minute to the poor server assigned to that task. Dad was standing right next to Cameron, who sat in front of the smaller cake, the one Daisy would smash her face into.
And Daisy sat on his lap.
She was all smiles in her bright pink onesie and tutu, both just as glittery as the cake we were all about to eat. Her dark hair that had been present from the moment she was born curled over her ears, and her dark lashes brushed her cheeks with each giggle that slipped from her lips.
Her eyes were bright blue.
The doctor told us they wouldn’t stay that way, but they had so far, and I loved those little blue eyes. They were the ones that looked up at me as Cameron and I cried in the hospital, and the ones that watched me curiously each night when I breast fed her. They were the eyes that watered when she stuck her little tongue on Cameron’s lemon drop, the ones that lit up whenever we played peek-a-boo, and the ones that watched her cake now with the most mischievous smile right beneath them.
When Mom told me she wanted to plan Daisy’s first birthday, I had nearly laughed. “Why so early?” I had asked. But then I realized her birthday was just a month away. My little girl had already been alive for one full year, and it just didn’t seem possible.
So much had happened in that year.
Cameron had completely renovated the house after the dust settled last spring. My library had yet again been turned into a nursery, only this time, it had also been rebuilt — downstairs, right next to Scarlett and Rhett. I spent many afternoons there as my belly rounded, and even more with baby Daisy in my lap as I rocked in the hammock and she stared up at the birds in wide-eyed wonder.
Work had slowed down for Cameron, too. He’d told his boss that he needed less work now that he had a family coming, and with my father behind him, his wish was granted. He still worked hard, and there were still overtime days, but they were few and far between.
Less time at the office left more time for us.
I started joining Cameron at his sessions with Patrick, realizing I had just as much to work through as Cameron did. We had individual and couple sessions both, and together, we worked toward a healthier relationship.
And by the grace of God, we fell in love again — deeper in love.
We spent hours in the garden, and full days in the aviary. We would talk until our throats were sore, and dance like we were just twenty again. We rebuilt the connection we had broken, earned back the trust we had lost, and more than anything, we started a new chapter together with more gusto than we’d ever written with before.
Watching him now from across the room as I sat the new pitcher down, it was hard to remember what we’d been through. We were so happy now, so blissfully happy, I couldn’t remember what it had felt like to feel rejected by him. I couldn’t remember the darkest days, the betrayal, the torture — for both of us.
Life had a way of doing that, of giving us brighter days that seemed to completely knock out the dark. I loved living in that new light with Cameron.
“I think everyone is here,” Mom said, flitting by me in a hurry with an arm full of damp towels from the pools. “We should do the smash cake soon.”
“Yes, Mom,” I said on a chuckle, but I doubted she even heard with how fast she whizzed by.
I was in no rush to do the cake, or to open the presents, or send everyone home. My daughter was turning one, and all I wanted to do was take the day in. I watched Cameron as he whispered in Daisy’s ear, her little hands wrapped around his fingers, and then he’d nibble at her neck and she’d giggle like it was the funniest thing in the entire world.
And I realized how much our life had changed once she’d come into it.
Graham and Christina had given birth to a healthy Callie just months before we did the same with Daisy, and once we were flung into life with a newborn, the days flew by. It was more than I could have ever imagined, living in my new world with Cameron. I had thought I was prepared, that anticipating the arrival of Jeremiah and Derrick had set me up for motherhood, but I had been wrong.
Being a parent was so much more than baby books and birthing classes.
It was late night groans over who would get up to change diapers. It was fits of laughter over each face she made, and fits of anger over each toy stepped on in the dark. It was pictures that didn’t do real life justice, memories captured with eyes and cameras both. It was worry over if we were feeding her the right things and loving her the right way. It was tears of agony when she was sick, when all we wanted to do was take the pain for her, and it was tears of joy over her first word spoken.
Of course, her first word was “no.”
She already knew what she wanted and what she didn’t, and I loved that about her. Daisy inspired me already.
Yes, a lot of things had changed since Daisy joined our world, but some things remained the same.
Life at Westchester ticked on as usual, though I found myself more involved in after-school activities once I’d been awarded Teacher of the Year. Each new class that came in was a new challenge, the curriculum constantly adjusting to technological advancements, and the students seemed to be more and more prepared for school each year that I received them.
Once they left Kindergarten, I would see my students only every so often — except for Jeremiah. He found me at least a few times a week, either stopping by my classroom or joining me for lunch when I would sit in the cafeteria with the kids. He was moved into his new home just seven short months after we broke ground, and our connection was only solidified in that time. He’d always be like a son to me.
And with Westchester came another constant.
Reese.
At first, after everything that happened, Reese seemed to disappear from my life altogether. He was still at school, I knew, but never around me. Our paths never crossed, and for a while, I wondered if they ever would again.
I didn’t tell him I was pregnant, not until my belly was round enough that I was telling everyone else. And I saw it in his eyes, the want to know, the curiosity if it was his child.
But he never asked me.
He stayed away, saying nothing to me other than a mumbled congratulations when I’d first told him. But something changed around six months into my pregnancy.
He went to Cameron.
To this day, I had no idea what happened during that conversation. I had no idea what was said, what was yelled or cursed, or what was agreed upon. All I knew was that one day Reese wasn’t looking at me, and the next, he was at my parents’ dinner table right across from me and Cameron.
Cameron and Reese weren’t friends — not even close — but they existed in the same space together. It was more than I ever expected, especially once Daisy was born. Cameron invited Reese to our home to meet Daisy, and Reese had attended family functions with my parents and us just like he had before everything went down. We’d had game nights and dinners, fundraisers and lazy afternoons on Mom and Dad’s porch over the summer.
And though Reese was around, he still kept a respectful distance from me, only speaking to me when Cameron could see us. He kept conversations light and easy, and though I thought it would never be possible, we’d found a sort of friendship.
A very strange, very nontraditional friendship.
I pulled a few wet naps from the pack, ready to make my way over to Cameron and Daisy when the front door swung open. A burst of cold rushed in, and Mom’s high greeting was the first thing I heard.
“Reese! You made it!”
She pulled him into a hug, and I didn’t see him fully until she’d flurried away again, spouting off directions for him to drop his present on the gift table. He shrugged off his coat first, handing it to the butler at the door, and once his gift was no longer in his hands, his eyes found me.
There was always a spark of something when Reese looked at me, and I knew for as long as I lived, it would exist. It wasn’t the same heat or passion I’d once felt, and it wasn’t that first spark I remembered feeling as a girl — the one that rumbled up from deep in my tummy like a volcano of butterfly wings. No, it was more comfortable now, safe and dependent, like the feeling you get when you hear an old favorite song and still remember all the lyrics, or smell a candle that takes you back to a memory once forgotten.
Reese offered me a timid smile, tucking his hands in his pockets as he crossed the room to the table where I stood. I tidied up the drink station as he made his way over, and once he stood beside me, I returned his smile.
“I just wanted to drop off a gift for her,” he said quickly. “But I won’t stay.”
“It’s okay to stay.”
“No, I don’t want to intrude,” he said, eyes skirting over to where Cameron held Daisy.
“Reese,” I said, lowering my voice. “It’s fine. Stay. We’re about to do cake.”
His eyes were still glued on my daughter, and he swallowed, nodding his head as he found my gaze. “Okay. If you’re sure it’s alright.”
“It’s fine.”
Reese looked around at all the decorations then, his brows rising higher with each new area he took in.
“This is insane.”
I barked out a laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, well, that’s my mother for you. I’m actually quite shocked you’re surprised by the magnitude of a first birthday party.”
“Oh, I knew it would be grand,” he clarified. “I just didn’t realize it’d be so…”
“Overwhelming?”
“Pink.”
I laughed again, resting my free hand on my hip as the other still gripped the wet wipes I had ready to go for the smash cake. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting this much pink, either. I think Mom is still frustrated that we had such a gender-neutral theme in our nursery and the same at the shower. She’s been dying to do something pink.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever see the color the same again.”
Reese’s phone dinged from his pocket, and he pulled it out quickly, silencing the second notification.
“That the new girl?” I asked.
His face reddened, and he shook his head, but he was smiling. “Yeah. I asked if I could see her again.”
“And?”
Reese typed out a message on his phone before tucking it away again. “She said yes.”
“Yes?” I asked, excited. “That’s good, right?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. I don’t know if I know what I’m doing anymore.”
I laughed. “Yeah, well, none of us do. You’ll figure it out. It’s kind of like riding a bike. And you used to ride a lot of bikes back in the day.”
He cocked a brow at me, pretending to be offended, but then he laughed, too. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see.”
We both smiled then, a comfortable silence falling over us. Reese’s eyes fell to where my hand circled my belly, and he swallowed.
“You look great, by the way,” he commented, shifting the conversation. “Feeling uncomfortable yet?”
I looked down at the basketball swelling under my sweater dress and smiled, resting my hand at the top.
“Not yet. I’ve been lucky in my pregnancies so far. Now the birth?” I shook my head. “I’ll never be prepared for that torture.”
Reese grinned. “And it’s a boy this time?”
I nodded, and he whistled, his eyes growing wide as silver dollars.
“Better prepare yourself there, Tadpole. You think Daisy has been a handful… boys are the real trouble.”
“Don’t I know it,” I agreed, and we both laughed, our gazes sweeping over the room before we both settled on Cameron and Daisy.
Cameron looked up at us, a flash of something crossing his face before he smiled, half waving at Reese. Reese waved back, tucking his hand in his pocket once more when he’d finished.
“She’s sure beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes on Daisy.
“She is. Dad will have his work cut out for him once she’s not a little girl anymore.”
Reese smiled again, but it slipped easily as we watched Daisy and my Dad playing patty cake. Her giggles could be heard over every other sound in the party. After a moment, I pulled my gaze to Reese again, watching his face warp as he watched her.
He’d never hid his emotions well, and I knew there were questions he’d never asked me, ones I had tried not to ask myself. But he was stronger than I was.
“She’s his, Reese,” I said softly.
He ripped his gaze from Daisy to me in a flash, his brows pinching together over his sharp nose.
“Cameron didn’t want a paternity test,” I said. “Not at first. And even after Daisy was born. But I know you’ve been wondering,” I said. “And honestly, I had, too.”
Reese swallowed, his jaw tense as he listened to the words I spoke. The party continued on around us, as if nothing was happening, but it felt like we were standing on our own little edge of the world.
“I asked him to take one a couple months ago,” I explained. “He refused at first, but I begged him. I told him I needed to know, and I wouldn’t tell him. I would look at the results and he’d be none the wiser. So, he agreed.” I smiled, the same relief I’d felt that day rushing over me again. “And Daisy is his daughter.”
Her laughter shrilled out over the party again, and Cameron looked to me, nodding to his watch next. Daisy was getting fussy, and he wanted to do the cake as much as Mom did, but I held up one finger, asking for a moment longer.
Reese just stood next to me with his eyes on the pink cups that lined the table.
“Does that make you sad?” I asked, but he quickly shook his head, before I’d even finished asking.
“No,” he answered. “Not if it makes you happy.”
“That’s not what I asked, Reese.”
He considered me then, his eyes finding Daisy before they drifted back to me.
“I think I knew even before you told me,” he said. “I can just tell. They’re one in the same, aren’t they?” He shook his head. “Cameron is a great father, and I’m glad she has him.”
I swallowed, reaching over to squeeze his forearm gently before I released it just the same. “Me, too.”
“Charlie!” My mom called, snapping her fingers from beside Dad.
I laughed, holding up the wet naps to let them know I was on my way.
“Well, time to let my daughter shove cake up her nose,” I said, but my eyes softened as they found Reese one last time. “Thank you for being here… for always being here.”
Reese smiled, shrugging as if he had any other choice. “Get over there. Your family is waiting.”
With one hand on my belly still, I carried the wipes over to where Cameron and Daisy sat, smiling as everyone lined up on the other side of the table with their phones and cameras at the ready. I smiled at Graham first, who held his daughter — the one who favored him just as my daughter favored me. Then, my eyes trailed over my parents, family friends, children whose eyes were as wide and open as their hearts at that age.
Finally, I found my husband, squeezing his shoulder where he sat below me. He smiled, kissing my belly, and our eyes stayed connected until my Mom started the countdown.
“Three… two… ONE!”
Together, Cameron and I gently guided Daisy’s face to her cake. She was shocked at first, her little hands stretching out in front of her and her face scrunching up in surprise. But once her hands found the icing, the creamy stickiness of it gooping between her fingers, she grinned, then laughed, and then everyone was laughing, too.
We all watched with smiles on our faces as she played in the cake, and after she’d snapped enough photos, Mom slipped away to help coordinate the cutting of the larger cake, the one that would be distributed. Cameron squeezed my hand, both of us still watching Daisy.
And from across the room, I felt another pair of eyes watching, too.
Later that night, when the sugar highs were done and the presents all opened, Cameron and I loaded a sleeping Daisy into the car for the trip home. She woke up only long enough to call out for the birds when we got home, who she referred to as Wet n Wet since she couldn’t say their full names. We let her sit in the hammock with us for a while until her eyes began to close again, and then Cameron took her upstairs, tucking her into her bed before joining me again.
“Tea?” he asked, dipping his head inside the aviary. I was watching Scarlett and Rhett settle into their nest for the night, and I only shook my head, reaching out a hand toward him to ask him to join me.
Cameron closed the cage door behind him, sliding into the hammock next to me, and I tucked in under his arm with a content sigh.
“What a day.”
“You said it,” he mirrored, his hand playing with my hair. “You tired?”
“Strangely, no.”
“Me either. I think it’s the time, you know,” he said. “One year. She’s already been alive for one year. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“It doesn’t. But God am I glad she got the chance to live, that she is here with us today.”
A long breath left Cameron’s lungs, and he kissed my hair, the hand in his lap finding mine. He held it for a moment before his fingers slipped up to my wrist, tracing the birth stones of our sons that hung there on the same chain he’d given me almost two years ago.
“They’re still here with us, too,” he said softly. “They always will be.”
I nodded, tucking tighter into his side, and for just one small moment, on my daughter’s first birthday, I thought of my sons. I missed them, missed who they could have been, but I knew Cameron was right. They were always with us, and they always would be.
After a while, Cameron lifted my chin with his knuckle, his eyes searching mine.
“Have I told you today that I love you?”
I smiled, brushing my nose against his. “You have. Many times.”
“Well,” he said, lowering his lips to mine. He hovered there, and just before he kissed me, he said, “I hope you never get tired of hearing it.”
He kissed me long and soft, his hand sweeping through my hair, and I smiled wider when he pulled away.
“I never could.”
Cameron held me until the birds were fast asleep, and once they were, he led me into the kitchen, making us both a pot of tea as soft music played through the speakers. I smiled to myself when I realized the song, the same one we had danced to at our wedding, and Cameron pulled me into his arms as soon as the tea was made.
We danced slow and sweet, swaying to the melody of the song, and I closed my eyes, remembering how it felt to dance to that song for the very first time.
Back then I’d worn a white, lace dress, tonight I wore a nightgown.
Back then, Cameron held me tight, but tonight, he held me tighter.
And there in the middle of my kitchen, with my daughter upstairs sleeping and my unborn son dancing right along with me and Cameron, I realized every heartbreak and trial along our path had led us to this moment.
I wouldn’t have changed a moment of that path, of our story — not the beautiful days nor the dark. Because I knew in my heart that without them, this moment wouldn’t have been the same.
On the northeast side of Mount Lebanon, Pennsylvania, there was a house.
And now, finally, a home.