Eight years later . . .
“What’s tonight’s wager?” Easton raised one eyebrow, leaned in, and whispered close to my ear.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Daddy! Come. On!” Our five-year-old daughter argued, interrupting our private banter. “You’re stalling. I already raised you five gold fish crackers and a fun-size Snickers, what are you waiting for?” I turned my cheek and bit back my laughter.
For a little thing, she had the sass of an entire high school cheerleading squad and the smarts like her daddy. Not to mention those rustic, honey-colored eyes that were going to have all the boys love struck and chasing her around.
“Alivia. Sweetheart. Patience, remember?” Easton replied calmly.
Until this day, he was patient as a saint. It didn’t matter that Alivia wasn’t his biological daughter. She would always be a Tyler, in more ways than one.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s a virtue, I know,” she squabbled. “You’ve been singing that same song and dance for the last . . .” she raised her eyes to the ceiling and moved them side to side. Her dead giveaway when she was thinking hard about something. “Five years.” She smiled sweetly.
Easton laughed while I shook my head, deciphering just how much we had our work cut out for us.
“Daddy, come on.”
Alivia Rae Tyler was our daughter. Tyler’s biologically, but Easton was her daddy.
On the third anniversary of Tyler’s death, Easton came to me and we had a lengthy discussion about how I would feel if we went ahead and used Tyler’s gametes.
Apparently, a few weeks before, a man had come to him in a dream. His face unrecognizable aside from his eyes, but Easton had known with every inch of his being it was Tyler. He didn’t remember anything else about the dream, but insisted that we revisit the idea.
Easton was ready for a family and wanted it with me. During one of our many discussions on the topic, he brought up the fact that, had we met at a later time, I might have already been pregnant or a mother. So what difference would it be if we decided to go through with it, together?
After giving it quite a bit of thought, a repeat visit to Dr. Hardy, and a few visits to the therapist, we did it. It made us the proud parents to the best, smartest, and sassiest little girl we could ever dream of.
“All right, sweet pea. I think you’re bluffing, but I’ll match your five gold fish crackers and raise you one sour apple lollipop.” Easton stealthily snuck a lollipop from my stash and threw it into the growing pile of junk food. The only time Alivia was allowed sweets were when we gambled over hands of Go Fish.
“Hey, that’s stealing,” I mockingly grumbled.
“Don’t worry, Mommy.” She patted my thigh. “I got this. And when I beat his tush, I’ll give you your lollipop back.”
“Why thank you, baby. That’s very sweet of you.” I twirled my fingers around her ringlets, not commenting on her choice of word. I turned to Easton and stuck my tongue out at him.
“We girls have to stick together,” I reminded Alivia.
“That’s right, Mommy.”
“Are you sure about that, sweet pea?” Easton asked.
“Um-hm.”
“I’ll give you one more chance?” Easton attempted to persuade our little girl, but she wouldn’t budge. I had a strong feeling he had a winning hand and she would be devastated if she lost.
Alivia was great at winning, but losing, not so much.
“You’re absolutely, positively, unequivocally, one thousand percent—”
Justin Timberlake’s “Can’t Stop the Feeling” came on, and Alivia jumped up, squealing in excitement.
“Daddy! It’s the sunshine-in-my-pocket song. Dance with me.” She spun around, a wide grin pulling from rosy cheek to rosy cheek.
This was where she took after Easton. Alivia had a crazy love for music and dancing and cooking. Just like her daddy. For a five-year-old, she could whip up the best pulled pork tacos I ever tasted, with Easton’s help, of course.
Stepping from side to side, Alivia snapped her fingers, waiting for Easton to get up.
“Hurry, Daddy. Before the song is over.”
Reaching for her waist, Easton hauled her up and twirled her in his arms. They danced until the end of the second chorus, and then he set her on his feet, her hands in his, moving a little slower to the beat.
She adored Easton when he did this with her. And he adored her just as much.
“Mommy, let’s dance,” Alivia tossed over her shoulder.
“Okay, one song. Then I have to go and pack your bag for Grandpa Roger and Grandma Sue’s house.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Alivia might not know it yet that Tyler is her biological father, but we couldn’t keep it from Tyler’s parents. The first time I witnessed Roger holding his grandbaby, the tears of love and adoration in his eyes, I knew with all my heart, we had made the right choice.
Struggling to get up from the floor, I felt my little guy kick—hard, taking after his daddy in the dancing department. I reached under my belly to support my growing stomach and rose to my feet.
“Are you all right, Sunshine?” Easton asked, holding an arm open for me. I settled into his side while he danced with his two favorite girls. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Our little dancer here got a bit excited.” I laughed softly, and Easton kissed my nose.
“I love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you, too.”
Two minutes later, the song ended, and we resumed our spots on the living room floor for another round of our rendition of Go Fish poker.
Rearranging the cards in his hand, Easton looked at me and casually asked, “Have you decided on any more names?” I shook my head, still undecided but hung up on the names Kaleb and Ethan. Though, I never mentioned the name Ethan since Addie and RJ had already named one of the twins after Tyler.
Easton was stuck on Jack, and thankfully, we had a little more time since tomorrow would mark just twenty-eight weeks.
“I like Kaleb Ethan,” Alivia threw out nonchalantly, and I shifted my wide-eyed gaze toward Easton.
He shrugged in confusion.
“Where’d you get that name?” I asked gently, shock filling every part of me.
“The angel,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“What angel, sweet pea?” Easton sat up straight.
“The one who would come and play tea party and dress up with me.” My eyes slid slowly to Easton, who looked equally as shocked.
“What’s his name?” I inquired, equally nervous and cautious. I didn’t want to spook Alivia and have her not tell us.
She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “I don’t remember, but he has really pretty eyes. The same like me and Daddy.” She looked up at Easton and smiled. “He’s really handsome, too, just like you, Daddy—and nice. He always tells me how special I am and that he loves me very much.”
Tears streamed down my face. I looked to Easton, silently asking him if he was thinking the same thing. That Tyler was the angel our little girl spoke of.
Easton smiled and then nodded. He pulled us both into his arms and whispered, “I love all of you so very much, including you, Kaleb Ethan.”
In less than three months, I would give Easton his son, and our little family would be complete.
THE END