Zadie

9 weeks later

THE CHUBBY BABY SQUIRMS restlessly in my arms. My attempts to calm him have all failed. Rocking, walking, singing—none of it works. Maybe he doesn’t like my song choice. Itsy-Bitsy Spider is kind of strange, if you think about it. Or, maybe it’s my singing voice he doesn’t like.

Switching things up, I try speaking instead of singing. “Baa Baa Black Sheep, have you any wool? Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir. Three bags full.” Sheep don’t do the trick, either. His fat little face scrunches, dissatisfied with everything about me. Turning red, he starts to howl.

“Time’s up,” Cal announces. “Hand him over.”

Passing a heavy bundle of baby is harder than it looks. I’m afraid he’ll kick his way right out of my arms, worried I’ll drop him before the exchange is complete.

“It’s fine,” Cal soothes. “I’ve got him.”

Boy, does he ever. Cal takes the hell-spawn into his stable, capable, loving arms and turns him into an angel. Immediately, baby Logan begins to settle. Wails turn to cries. Cries turn to whimpers. Until the only sound is a leftover hiccup.

“How’d you do that?” I wonder, watching in awe as Cal effortlessly holds his, now sleeping, nephew.

Shrugging, he says, “Kids love me.”

He takes a seat on my couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Totally relaxed. Totally hot. I don’t care how cliché I am. Seeing a baby held against his flexing bicep and hardened chest does something dangerous to my lady parts.

He looks at me, one eyebrow arching perfectly over the rim of his glasses. The dark frames he’s wearing highlight the glow of his forest green gaze. God, I love it when he wears those glasses. They make him look smarter, sexier. Totally, totally hot.

Yep—walking, talking cliché happening right over here, folks.

“You going to join me?” He pats the cushion beside him. “Or were you just planning to stand and ogle me all day?”

“How long ‘til they come back?” I ask, sitting as close to him as I dare.

“About an hour. Why?”

“How long do you think he’ll sleep?”

“I don’t know, Zadie.” He leans toward me, baby secure in his hold. “Why?”

Sliding closer, I stare down at Logan. Sleeping, he’s not so terrible. He’s actually kind of adorable looking. Of course, it helps that his parents are so damn perfect.

Cal shifts, moving Logan to the crook of one arm, allowing his free hand to find me. I push even closer, unconcerned with waking the baby, my only focus, feeling Cal.

“You going to answer me?”

What was the question?

Unable to remember the words I wanted to say, I show him my response. My mouth moves to his. Greedy and wanting, I’m desperate to feel the goodness he gives.

He kisses me back. Slow and deliberate. The expert glide of his tongue, building desire, deep in my center. Hot, molten, persistent desire. I’m constantly on fire for this man.

I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.

My body’s heating, a pleasured moan clawing its way out of me. But that moan turns to a sharp gasp of surprise, Cal instantly breaking our kiss.

His hand flies to my rounded belly. “Was that?”

“Yes,” I nod emphatically, just as another strong kick is delivered.

“I can feel it.” His whole face lights up—a glow of enthusiastic wonder. “That’s amazing.”

I cover his hand with my own, relishing in the feel of my man and my baby. Ity-bity, ugly sea-alien isn’t so ity-bity any more. I’m going to need a new nickname for it. Or, maybe just a name in general.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” I ask.

The kicks have stopped, but Cal continues caressing my stomach. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Doesn’t matter, really... it’s a gift, either way.”

“Cal?” I turn in his hold, my arm reaching around both him and Logan, encircling us in a snug embrace.

“Yeah, Zadie, what do you need?”

“Absolutely nothing,” I tell him. “I’ve already got everything. I’ve got a baby on the way, and I’ve got you.” The two best mistakes I ever made.

His smile is the most brilliant shade of devotion I’ve ever seen.

“I love you, Cal Anderson.”

“I love you, too, Zadie, baby.”

***

Caleb

18 weeks later

“I’M SO MAD AT you,” Zadie grumbles. “I hate this. I hate everything.”

Her forehead is dotted in sweat. Stray, messy strands of hair cling to the sides of her face and neck. Her tank top hugs every curve, barely concealing her boobs or her belly.

She’s so fucking beautiful.

“If that’s what it takes to make you feel better, hate away,” I encourage. “I still love you.”

“I’m sorry,” she pouts. “I love you, too. I’m just so fat and uncomfortable. I don’t know how you talked me into this.”

Abbi slowly rolls by us with her arms held out at her sides for balance and a giant smile on her face.

“I thought it was your idea,” I remind Zadie. “I distinctly remember. You said that exercise, mixed with the excitement of watching me show off...”

Her brow furrows even deeper than before, her eyes taking on a murderous hue. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who agreed with me.”

I kiss her damp forehead. “If this doesn’t work, we can always try something else.” Her eyes plead with me to find a solution. Whispering in her ear, I remind her. “An orgasm might do the trick.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, hands perched on her luscious hips. “We’ve tried that already. Besides, I’m not going to have any energy left by the time we’re done here.”

Abbi wheels her way over to us, carefully stopping her board before she gets too close.

“Is the baby ready to come yet?” she asks innocently.

“Doesn’t seem like it, sweetie,” Zadie answers.

“Darn,” Abbi says. “Too bad you’re not allowed to skateboard. I bet that would make it happen.”

Zadie laughs. “You might be right—it would probably scare her out.”

Her.

Every time I hear it, I can’t help but imagine a cherub faced, brown-eyed beauty—a miniature Zadie. A little girl to give all my devoted attention. A miracle I’m already in love with.

“All right, I’m going to go walk more laps,” Zadie sighs. “Keep up the good work, Abbi, before long you’re going to be better than Caleb.”

She waddles back toward Chante and Melanie, her large rounded belly leading the way. She’s more than a week overdue and, as uncomfortable as she is, she’s managing like a champ. My girl’s still as brave as she is beautiful.

“Do you think she’s right?” Abbi asks. “Do you think I can be good at this?”

“I don’t know, this is only your first time. It’s going to take an awful lot of practice. Do you think you’re up for that?”

“Yes, as long as you’re my teacher, I know I can,” she answers boldly.

“Well then, there’s your answer.” I smile down at her. “Now, get back to it.”

She’s still too skinny and her hair is still growing back, thin and patchy. She’s not allowed to do much more than stand on the skateboard. But when she strapped on her helmet and knee pads she got this look of excited anticipation. And every time her feet hit the deck, she exudes nothing but pure joy.

It may be that Abbi loves skateboarding. Or, it may simply be that she’s ecstatic to be alive—to have the opportunity to do something new. To do anything at all.

Regardless of the reason, seeing her joyful expression is all the motivation I need. Abbi’s just one of four kids I’ve agreed to mentor. Skateboarding may be the up-front focus but the goal is to help them heal. It’s a way for me to give them something they can call their own—something that has nothing to do with cancer.

Unexpectedly, it’s given a lot to me as well. I look forward to my time with them. I’m dedicated to helping them. I’m passionate about making a difference in their lives. I feel like it’s one more step toward solidifying my future.

The other step—the one that’s bright and clear—is burning a hole in my pocket. I’ve been holding onto the simple three-stone engagement ring for months now. Every day, I fight the urge to drop to my knee and beg Zadie to just marry me already. Every moment of waiting feels like wasted time, but I’m determined to do it right. So, I’m being patient and taking it slow and steady. Because she’s worth it.

I watch Zadie as she walks her laps, trying to induce labor naturally before her doctor insists on doing it for her. I’m still awed by her steadfast determination.

“Caleb!” Abbi calls. “Can I try a trick or something? Moving in a straight line is too easy.”

“You think you’re a pro already?” I laugh.

“No.”

“You’re not ready for tricks yet.” Her face falls in disappointment. “But how about you help me with one of mine, instead?”

“Really?” she asks, jumping with excitement.

“Sure. You go sit over there. Don’t move a muscle.” She nods her head as she goes to sit where I’ve instructed. “We’ll give your mom and my girls a show, ok?”

“Yes!”

“You can’t move!” I warn. “Or the trick won’t work.”

There’s no trick, really. I hit the ramps a couple of times but otherwise I simply grind my board in circles around her. She’s delighted. I can tell from the smile, frozen on her face. But she’s good at listening to instructions and doesn’t move an inch.

I fly up and over the ramp again. I relish the easy feel of losing gravity for a moment before landing solidly back on the ground. When I fly back toward Abbi, I realize she’s not where I left her. She’s up, moving toward me with a look of fearful wonder on her face.

I veer off to the side, easily avoiding her. “What the heck, Abbi!” I exclaim, bringing myself to a stop beside her. “You weren’t supposed to move, remember?”

“But... but...” Her eyes are huge. “Zadie.”

Turning around, I search the area I last saw her. She’s still there, her arm draped over Chante’s shoulder, and her hand clutched to her belly. Melanie stands on her other side, rubbing her back and shoulders.

“Zadie!” I yell, anxiety coursing through me.

“Her water broke,” Chante yells back.

“Is the baby coming now?” Abbi asks.

“I guess so,” I smile down at her.

“You’re going to be a dad!” she squeals. “I can’t wait to meet your baby!”

“Me neither,” I say, grabbing her hand and running toward the waiting women.

“Cal!” Zadie calls, reaching her hand out to me.

“I’m here,” I tell her, squeezing her fingers tight. “I’m right here.”

“Oh God,” she groans as a contraction hits her. “An hour ago, I was begging for her to come, now I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Of course you can,” Chante scoffs.

“I know you can,” I reassure. “And I’m right here for you. You’re not doing this on your own. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”

“Thank you, Cal.” Her brow crinkles, adorably. “You’ve always believed in me. You’ve always believed in us.”

Tears spring to my eyes, a single drop clinging to my lashes.

Zadie shifts out of Chante’s hold, allowing me to enfold her in my arms. “I believe in us too,” she says, kissing my chin.

“Okay,” Chante says. “Enough standing around. You need to get to the hospital. It’s time to meet your daughter. Both of you.”

“Yes, Doc,” Zadie laughs. “Let’s go.”

Always beautiful and brave. And mine.

Happily, ever after.

***

Chantal

THE PRECIOUS BABY GIRL sleeps soundly in her father’s arms. Her real father’s arms. The father, who’s genetics didn’t make her, but whose heart will help shape her. He’s fully vested. He always was, even before he knew she existed.

I knew he would be.

Caleb is awe-inspiring. He’s not the reason I pursued my medical career, but he’s my continued inspiration to never give it up. I will never give it up.

“What are you going to name her?” I whisper.

“Not sure yet.” He yawns as the toll of the day finally catches up with him.

“Let me take her,” I suggest. “You should get some sleep.”

Without argument, he hands me his brand-new, no-name baby daughter. Then he curls up in the bed beside his peacefully sleeping, soon-to-be wife.

He made quite the spectacle, asking Zadie to marry him only minutes after the baby was placed in her arms. Prince fucking Charming had every nurse in the place swooning.

“Come on sweet, darling girl,” I coo. “Let’s go see some people.”

Walking slowly to the visitor’s area I cherish the perfect feel of having a baby in my arms—so innocent and new.

For Zadie and Caleb, this little girl will be their one and only. She’ll be their single chance to bring life into this world. Their one shot to create a family.

Lucky bastards.

“Who’ve you got there?” Dylan hums when I sit beside him.

“She’s nameless.”

“She’s pretty.” He runs a finger over her tiny little hand. “So small.”

“She’s perfect,” I confirm.

“Guess she didn’t get many of her sperm donor’s genes then, eh? Probably a good thing.”

“Where is he?”

“Don’t know. I’ve called him a few times now. But you know how he likes to ignore me.”

“Do you think maybe I should try?”

“Enchanté, he knew this day was coming. If he was interested in being here, he would be.”

Fucking Sean. Always messing things up. Messing everything up.

“I hope Zadie’s not disappointed by him again.”

“I think she’s well past counting on him. You’re the only one who still has expectations for him. Maybe it’s time you let go of him too.”

If only it were that easy.

“Maybe.” I sigh, kissing the top of the baby’s head. She smells so sweet. “Did you get a hold of my Aunt?”

“Yeah. Sylvie’s going to go nuts over this baby.”

“Wait until she sees the rock on Zadie’s finger—she’s really going to go crazy then.”

“Yes, she is,” He agrees, stroking my hand. He lingers over the spot where my wedding band should sit. My empty ring finger. “That’s going to be a fun wedding.”

“Most definitely.”

“You gonna wear that blue dress again? I’d like to see you dance in it, and then rip it off you after.”

“Maybe.” I recline into him, smiling as I think about the last time he saw me in the blue dress. My mind is still basking in midnight skies and holding hands, when Sean comes stumbling into the room.

He’s wild and untamed looking, as always. For a moment, with the way he’s floundering, I’m worried he’s drunk. Quickly, I realize it’s not alcohol fueling him—it’s nervous apprehension.

“Is that...?” He stares in wonder at the tiny bundle in my arms.

“Yes,” I confirm. “This is your daughter.”

He sinks his big, familiar body into the chair on the other side of me. He’s barely acknowledged me or Dylan, he’s too enchanted by his girl. So, I turn and slip her into his waiting arms.

Sean is not what he shows the world. Zadie never knew the real man, hiding beneath obnoxious wit and wickedly provocative words. How could she? He’d already lost himself when they met.

But I know him. I know all of him—all too well.

Watching him now, as he holds the blessing he helped create, I see another marvel. Sean, a man once broken, is made whole.

This baby—one petite, angelic little girl—has fulfilled an enormous order. She’s already healed the people who will love her. She’s brought light and love into their lives.

Dylan wraps his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I still love you,” he murmurs in my ear, handing the last piece of my shattered heart back to me.

Zadie wanders into the room with a tired but deliriously happy Caleb, trailing behind her. Smiling and holding hands, they look down at their sleeping child.

“What’s her name?” Sean asks.

“Her name,” Zadie whispers. “Is Hope.”

Slowly, I start stitching my heart back together.

With hope.