Epilogue
Emerson
Two years later
I smoothed the satin over my belly and smiled. The bump was just starting to show but only barely. My dress was better than I had imagined, I thought as I looked over it in the mirror. My hair was swept to the side in a braid falling over my shoulder and ending just above the swell of my swollen breasts. Luke and I had decided that we wouldn't tell anyone about the baby until after today, simply because we didn't want anything to take away from today. Luke had spent hours out in the meadow stringing up lights and making sure everything was perfect. I had helped him do as much as he would allow, but being pregnant had made me incapable of doing anything in his mind. He didn't even like me cleaning the house or cooking dinner. The man spoiled me. It was no wonder I loved him.
I thought back to when I first suspected I was pregnant.
My body was revolting, and I had too much to do. Weddings don’t plan themselves. I felt like I had the flu but had reason to believe that maybe something else was going on. I knew if I went and bought a test that it would be all over our small community in a matter of twenty minutes, and the last thing I needed was the attention. It just so happened that Rachel and Charles had come into town for Summerfest that weekend, so she grabbed a test for me while she was at the store. Keeping it from Luke had been a little tricky, but we had managed.
“So?” Rachel popped her head into the bathroom as I waited to see just how many lines popped up. When the second line started to show, I was overcome with emotion, so when Rachel stuck her head in the door, she wasn't sure if she should be happy or quietly somber with me. I nodded, and she ran into the bathroom pulling me into a tight hug. Her own protruding belly kept us from our normal tight embraces.
“If you have a girl, our kids can get married, and then we will be related for real.” She said through her tears.
“It's a little early to be planning that wedding.” I laughed at her.
“When are you going to tell Luke? I want to be here and see the look on his face.”
“I don't know, maybe I should wait a little longer.” Even though I wanted to wait and plan some elaborate way to tell him, he knew immediately I was hiding something from him.
“What’s wrong with you?” He asked me as we stood in the kitchen later that night.
“Nothing.” I smiled and turned back to the salad I was mixing. I felt his arms wrap around me and pull me against him.
“I don't believe you.” I turned in his arms and looked up into his blue eyes.
“I just haven't felt very good for the last week or so. I think I'm coming down with something.”
“Maybe you should make an appointment to go to the doctor when we are in Portland early next week.”
“I think I might.” I reached up on my tip-toes and kissed him softly before turning back to the salad.
At dinner two nights later, I had worked up the nerve to tell him. I wanted to do one of those extravagant treasure hunts, but instead I ordered a pacifier and served it to him on a plate. When I sat the plate down in front of him, he looked down and then back at me and then down to the plate again.
“Are you, we are, when, you aren't kidding me, are you? Because that would be cruel.” His dark blue eyes were shining, and his smile was blinding. He stood and grabbed my face, kissing me hard then dropped to his knees in front of me, kissing my belly over and over.
“Hey little buddy. I don't know if you can hear me yet, but I can't wait to meet you.” His arms wrapped around my waist, his head laid on my belly, and he talked to a baby that we hadn't planned but wanted.
“I cannot believe how good that dress looks on you.” Cindy smiled at me when she walked in, shuffling in her own dress.
“I was worried that it would show my belly too much,” I admitted.
“You are going to tell Ryan today anyway, right?”
“We were planning to, yes.”
“I still can't believe that he is so oblivious to what is going on around him.” Cindy laughed.
“You are pretty distracting.” I raise my eyebrows and smile at her. “Especially in that dress,” I joked.
“I never thought that he and I would be a he and I for real.”
“The man loves you.” I reached out and hugged her.
“Well, he better. Because at this point, I’d fight him for custody of you and Luke,” she winked. “Now turn around,” she said. “I’ll help you tie that ribbon in the back, and then you can get mine. Because you’re on in thirty minutes.”
I smiled.
Thirty minutes later, I was watching Luke make me all weak in the knees in his tux as I walked toward him and took my place standing across from him.
He winked at me, and I winked back. He blew a kiss toward my belly, and I melted a little more for him.
“I love you.” I mouthed, and he did the same. Ryan shuffled nervously next to him and fiddled with his tie.
“Stop.” Luke whispered as Ryan turned to look at Luke.
When the wedding march started, we all watched as Cindy stepped out of the tent and into view. Ryan’s face lit up when he saw her. Her raven hair was pulled up, revealing her long, elegant neck. A few soft curls fell around her face.
When I pulled my gaze away from her and focused on Ryan’s face, I saw his eyes get a little misty. Luke reached out and gave him a solid pat on his shoulder, which caused Ryan to wipe at his eyes quickly. When Cindy stopped in from of him, he reached out for her and immediately leaned in to kiss her out of instinct.
“Not yet, son.” The minister laughed. I smiled as Ryan’s hands trembled as he took Cindy’s hands in his. He had given Luke a ton of crap after our wedding about the same thing, and I knew by Luke’s smirk that it wasn't lost on him.
I watched Luke, and he watched Ryan and Cindy. I couldn't help feeling that I had everything. Not just what I wanted, but so much more than I had ever known I wanted. Luke looked at me suddenly, and I smiled back at him, remembering our vows.
“I promise to cherish every minute I get to spend with you. I promise to take care of all your needs, no matter how small or big they are. I promise to not work in my shop before seven in the morning and always finish before eight at night. I will eat your burnt cookies and never complain. I will always chase you even if I have to do so with a walker in front of me. I also promise to knock you up at least three times, four if you'll let me.”
The crowd erupted in laughter, and a bright smile covered Luke’s face.
“But most of all, I promise to love you with every part of me—heart, mind and soul for as long as I have breath in my body.”
I was directed at that point to say my vows.
“I promise to be a wife and partner to the best of my ability. I promise to let you help clean the house and to also let you cook all the meals so you don’t have to eat burnt cookies.”
Laughter rang from the crowd.
“I promise to help you be the best you can be at everything you want to do, even if that means you spend weeks alone in your shop. I also promise to make our house a home for you, not just a building. But most of all, I promise to love you and make you feel loved for as long as I am breathing.”
When I focused back on the ceremony in front of us, Ryan wrapped his arms around Cindy and dipped her back as he kissed her deeply. When he set her back upright, the minister pronounced them man and wife. Ryan kissed her softly again and then started to lead her toward the tent that was set up for the reception. A gentle rain began to fall as Luke and I headed toward the tent. I started to jog but was lifted from behind and carried to the tent. Luke kissed me before he set me back on my feet.
We watched as Ryan and Cindy danced and then shared cake. The wedding went smoothly even though the temperamental pacific northwest weather wanted to be a pain. Luke and I sat and waited our turn with the bride and groom. We wanted to tell Ryan as a bit of a wedding present. When they made their way over to us, we exchanged hugs, and then Luke began to tell Ryan in the way we rehearsed.
“You know I made you a promise a long time ago, Ryan. And unfortunately, it seems that I’m not going to be able to keep it. At least, not exactly.”
“What promise?” Ryan asked with his head tilted to his side.
“A promise that we would name our first born after you. And while Ryan could be used as a girl’s name, we’ve decided on Wrynn instead.” Ryan eyes grew huge as he looked from me to Luke and then back. His hands automatically went to the small rounding of my belly.
“You know, you have been hitting the cookie dough ice cream pretty hard lately,” Ryan said to me joking. “I just didn’t want to say anything.” He grinned and hugged us both, then bent over to talk to my stomach. “Hey, baby Wrynn. Your Uncle Ryan already loves you and can't wait to meet you and threaten any boy who ever wants to talk to you.” I felt her move inside of me letting me know that she knew we were talking to her.
“How long have you known?” he looked at Luke and me, and then he focused on Cindy, who was grinning.
“You knew, too?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Am I the only one that didn't?”
“Pretty much.” Luke patted him on the shoulder.
“You all suck.” He frowned.
“We wanted you to be focused on your wedding. We still have a few more months before she’s born.”
“Well, I guess we should get busy,” he reached for Cindy.
A flush covered her face, and I knew what she was about to say.
“Welllll, you see, we have already been busy.”
I watched as her hands moved to her lower belly. I looked at Luke, and he looked at Ryan in complete shock. Color flushed from Ryan’s cheeks, and he reached for her.
“Are you messin’ with me?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head.
He pulled her to him and shouted to the entire room, “I'm gonna be a dad!”
Claps and whoops come from all around us. “And so is Luke!” he added on.
Warm arms wrapped around me, and in that moment my heart had never been fuller. I realized exactly what I was missing less than five years ago. I was missing the other half of my soul, and now I stood with strong arms wrapped around me, completing my life in a way that most people never experienced.
“I love you.” I whispered to Luke over my shoulder.
“I love you more, and our baby.”
JACKED
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter 1
Luke
Shrill laughter echoing from inside my place meant Ryan was trying to get laid... again. He had a habit of doing that at my house recently even though he only lived three feet from me in the other half of the house—a half with its own living room that was perfect for such activity.
“Dude, seriously?” I mumbled as I walked up the steps and pushed open the front door to my place. I shook my head when I found him on my couch covered with two girls—one brunette and one redhead. Ryan always did have a thing for redheads.
He grinned mischievously back at me. “What? Can you not see all this beauty?” he stroked the girls’ heads as they kissed on his face and neck.
“Yeah,” I shook my head again and headed for the stairs. “I can see it alright.”
“You not gonna join us?” the brunette asked. I knew I should know her name, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember it.
“No, but thanks for the offer. I have an early morning,” I responded before turning my attention to the man in the middle of the bimbo sandwich. “Ryan, try to keep it down, would ya?” I joked as I made my way to my room upstairs.
***
The next morning, I sat on the back porch drinking my coffee and mentally planning my day as I did most mornings. Today, my mind was racing more than usual, due mostly to the nine a.m. meeting I had with one of the region's most affluent high-end furniture stores. I loved my work, and I was damned good at it, or so my customers told me. Clearly, they weren’t the only ones who thought so since this meeting was happening. However, signing a deal to sell my custom furniture would put a measure of pressure on me that I wasn’t sure I wanted. If I signed a contract to sell the furniture I made in a high-end furniture store, would it then become work? Would it take away the passion I had for what I did? It weighed on me to the point that part of me considered canceling the meeting and continuing selling it the way I always had—by word of mouth—but I needed the guaranteed income it would bring to do what I wanted to do.
I was lost in thought when Ryan meandered out onto the porch and mumbled something about the workout and practice session we scheduled the afternoon after my meeting. Competition season was almost on us, and we had a Lumberjack Championship title to win back. Ryan and I had been competing since we were seventeen years old.
I acknowledged him and stood, watching the deer move over the hill, then he disappeared back into the house just as lazily as he’d come out.
I finished my coffee then walked inside, dropping my mug into the sink as I made my way to the bathroom to get ready. I turned the shower on to let the water warm up, then placed my hands on the sink counter and stared into the mirror, studying my reflection. My beard was getting a little long, but I didn’t have the time, nor did I want to shape it up. Besides, I didn’t see how the state of my grooming had anything to do with the quality of my furniture. They shouldn’t either.
I hopped in the shower and let the hot water stream over my shoulders and back, still thinking about what it would mean to get a contract to sell some of my furniture. If this worked out, it would give me the income to buy out Ryan’s half of the house. When we decided to buy the old farmhouse and turn it into a duplex, there was an understanding that the other person could buy out the loan and turn it into a single home. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the money to do it at the moment, so I had agreed when Ryan wanted to lease out his half for a year so he could move closer to the city and his job.
It didn’t take Ryan long to find someone to rent him out. The new tenant, Emerson, was expected to be arriving in a few days. It struck me to ask Ryan if he’d warned the poor guy about the noise I sometimes make when I’m working in my shop. Of course, any noise I might make would be nothing compared to the parties Ryan often held. And even though he was moving closer to the city, I knew he’d still be back here more weekends than not.
I finished my shower and got ready in record time after I realized I’d enjoyed the hot water a little longer than I had intended. Fifteen minutes later, I was headed to the small town down the road to meet with Mr. Sharp for coffee, stoked that I wouldn't be helping Ryan move the last of his stuff this morning.
The meeting went well, and he asked to see more of my work, so I took him to the shop and showed him the pieces I had already completed, plus the plans for several projects that I wanted to finish before competition season began.
Mr. Sharp moved around the shop, but kept coming back to the piece situated in the middle of the room. “This table is amazing,” he said as he ran his hand over the glass top. The legs were made from small tree trunks that had been sanded down and then polished.
“Thanks. It took me a couple of weeks to complete that table. You have to find just the right combination for the base. It’s my favorite, and it’s very similar to the one I made for myself.” I walked around to the coffee table and a chair that matched it. I smiled and followed his eyes as he looked over each piece.
“Well, you do outstanding work. I will certainly take all of this information back to the partners and see what kind of deal we can work out for you. If we can provide the wood, then maybe that would decrease the cost?”
“Actually, I only use reclaimed wood. Please keep that in mind.”
“Very well.” He reached his hand out, and I took it. We shook before I showed him back to his car, passing Ryan in the field behind the house as he worked to put a piece of wood in its cradle, preparing for our practice session.
After I said goodbye to Mr. Sharp, I walked back around the house to where Ryan was setting up and helped him put another log in place.
“We have to shave just over a second from our time to be in the same ballpark as Smith and Brown.”
“I know,” I said watching him as he moved over and picked up the saw. We practiced for an hour before switching to our individual disciplines. Springboard was my best event, but I was only ranked third in the nation, and I wanted that world record. My best time was a half a second from the record; I just had to get over the hump.
Ryan got everything ready for my practice run, and I went to work.
“GO!” Ryan shouted, and I started to swing the ax. I chopped the hole and placed the springboard working my way up to the next level. The ax sliced through the air, and I moved quickly, trying to beat my best time. I finished just under my best and dropped the ax to the ground.
“Dude, I know you can do better than that.” Ryan shook his head as he looked down at the timer on his phone.
“I know. Maybe if people hadn’t kept me up all night, I would be better rested,” I smirked back at him.
“Totally worth it.” He laughed then moved over and picked up the ax handing it back to me after I jumped down from the top board.
I stood by the log we placed in one of the cradles and started swinging downward, practicing my technique. The smell of freshly chopped timber reminded me of all the training I had done with my father. After a set of driving chops, I began my chips and smiled when the piece fell away. I started again and did this until I was almost to midpoint of the log. My drives penetrated to the center, and I turned and started the process over. If I didn’t drive right, my log wouldn’t separate, and that’s when I get frustrated. It happened twice. Ryan noticed my irritation.
“Take a break, and we’ll set it up again later,” Ryan said as he moved around me kicking at the pieces of wood that lay around.
“I don’t understand why this shit keeps happening,” I complained as I looked at my driving blows. They weren’t where they were supposed to be, and I didn’t know why.
After a fifteen-minute break, we worked for another couple of hours until my shoulders were screaming at me.
“Let’s just get this run over with and then grab some food,” Ryan said as he walked toward the house. He was practically living with me Thursday through Monday at this point since most of his stuff had been moved already. We had a couple of months until the next competition, and he wasn’t nearly as stressed as I was. We competed together in the one team event, but he didn’t compete individually. After almost taking off half his foot a couple years ago in the underhand chop, he decided that he would just stick to the team events.
“When is Emerson moving in?” I asked as we started down the driveway for our six-mile run.
“Should be any day now,” he replied. “I got the check for the first month and the security deposit almost a month ago. So, who knows. I started moving my stuff because I thought it was supposed to be earlier in the month. But hey, the whole is paid for so... whatever.”
He asked about my meeting and we talked about that and the competition a little during the remainder of the run. A little less than an hour later, we were walking back up the driveway, cooling down. Ryan reached the porch first and pulled the screen door open but let go and let it slam into me when he released it.
“Asshat,” I said as I pushed it back and moved into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
“That was payback for locking me out last week.” He yelled from the stairs as he ran to grab a shower.
As I sat at the table and looked over the competition series dates, I tried to figure out how many days per week I would actually have to build furniture once the season was in full swing. I guess I should have made it clear to Mr. Sharp that things would be a little slower once that started. Of course, they had to decide to pick up my products first.