Rm W/a Vu (54 page)

He blinks a couple times, shaking his head, possibly in an attempt to shake the memory of my mother’s vag from his brain. It won’t be that easy, believe me. “It’s…” He clears his throat and smooths his dress shirt, pretending to be unaffected. Yeah, right. “I’m fine. That was nothing.”

I don’t have the heart to call him on it. He has every right to try to repress that, so I nod in agreement. Before I can suggest we go to the waiting room, the door opens and the doctor steps out, smiling.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “Your mother is asking for you.” He must sense our unease, because he laughs gently. “It’s safe, I assure you.”

Slowly, Greyston and I make our way to the door and push it open. As the doctor said, she’s completely covered up. Dad is next to her, holding her hand and talking to her, his forehead pressed to hers and their eyes closed. It’s an innocently intimate moment, and it tugs at my heartstrings. One thing I’ve come to appreciate over the years is how undeniably in love my parents are after over two decades together. Sure, that comes with a few less than awesome memories of the two of them caught in the heat of the moment, but I’ll gladly take the mental hit several times for witnessing just one moment like this.

The door clicks softly, drawing my parents’ eyes to us, and they both smile infectiously. I cross the room and throw my arms around my mom, her tears of happiness dripping onto my bare shoulder. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re both here!” she exclaims. “Sorry about what you walked in on.”

I laugh, feeling my own tears of happiness stinging my eyes. “That’s okay,” I assure her, pushing her hair from her slightly damp forehead. “It’s surprisingly not the worst thing I’ve walked in on the two of you doing.”

Yeah, I can joke about it a little now. Just a little, though.

Dad snickers. “I didn’t think this would be all that fascinating,” he admits, confusing me. “Well, when you were born, it was rare that a father was in the room. I didn’t know about half the stuff that goes on. Then there were the books…”

“Books?” I question, knowing my shock is plainly written all over my face. “You read pregnancy books?”

“It’s all very fascinating,” he says, flooring me further. “Makes me regret not forcing my way into the delivery room when you were born.”

This conversation is both sweet and awkward, but I focus on the sweet.

Greyston and I stay with Mom and Dad a bit longer, long enough to witness several contractions. I ask my mom why she’s chosen not to take the epidural, but she’s a proud woman who “did this once before without drugs, and she’ll do it again.”

Personally, I’m getting the drugs when I’m in this position. You bet. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

The doctor comes in, and Greyston and I step out again, not needing to have a repeat moment of when we’d first arrived. This time, when he emerges, he directs us to the waiting room, telling us it’s time for my mom to have a baby. I’m nervous, excited, and just a little bit scared. I’m once again reminded of her age and how there are more risks involved. It’s all I can think about as I pace nervously in the waiting room.

Greyston must sense my distress, because he grabs my hand and pulls me onto his lap, holding me close and kissing my temple. I rest the side of my head against his forehead and let his whispers of reassurance wash through me as he runs his hand up and down my back. Soon, my apprehension begins to subside. When I look up at the clock, I see that almost two hours have gone by, and when I drop my eyes from the time, my father is walking into the waiting room with a tiny pink bundle cradled in his arms.

I pull myself off of Greyston’s lap, my lips curling up into an exultant smile as I slowly cross the waiting room to my dad. There’s a tiny movement beneath the pink blanket, and an even tinier squeak as I reach out and pull the blanket away from her cheek to have a better look. Greyston places a hand on my shoulder, and I look up at my dad expectantly.

“Juliette, meet your baby sister, Clara.”

Carefully, he leans forward, and I instinctively hold my arms out to accept her. I’m nervous, sure, but more than that, I’m excited. I can’t get over how small she is, and my emotions get the best of me. I don’t cry, but I definitely swallow a lump in my throat. Completely awestruck by this itty-bitty human in my arms, I take in her features. From the dark tuft of hair that peeks out from beneath the knitted pink beanie on her head, to her long eyelashes and button nose, and right on down to her pouty lips that are moving in a suckling motion while she sleeps. She’s absolutely precious.

I haven’t stopped smiling since Dad arrived with her, and when Greyston leans in and kisses my cheek, wrapping his arms around my waist, I relax into his embrace.

Dad explains that Mom’s doing great and that the doctor is just in there stitching her up—a very sobering comment that quickly disappears when Clara wriggles in my arms again. I sigh contentedly, and Greyston kisses the shell of my ear, his lips curling up into a smile against it before he whispers, “Seeing you holding a baby is probably one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.”

Still grinning, I turn my face to him. “Just wait until it’s our child.” I can’t believe my lack of filter, and I’m prepared to backpedal as Dad takes Clara from me and excuses himself to go see Mom, but Greyston surprises me.

“Marry me, Juliette.”

Epilogue

Announcing the celebration

of our love when we,

Juliette Foster

and

Greyston Masters

pledge our love as one

on Saturday, the 19
^th
of November

A fresh new day, and it’s ours.

A Day of happy beginnings.

The Camby Hotel

Phoenix, Arizona

I
stare at the ad we placed in the paper for a few minutes. We both knew it was old-fashioned, but considering how we met, we also felt it was kind of perfect.

My hands shake with nervous anticipation as I set the paper down on the table. I can’t believe the day is actually here. The last year and a half has been busy with wedding planning while I finished my final year of University and  Greyston traveled more for work. His increase in work wasn’t exactly ideal, but he still helped from afar, and he was so into making this day about the both of us.

That’s not to say I didn’t have a few bridezilla moments. I did. But he was super understanding and was always able to talk me off the ledge in his own special way. Our FaceTime chats were my favorite.

Music plays down the hall—the band that Greyston’s parents insisted we hire for the processional. It was one of the many extravagant pieces to our wedding.

I look around the small room I’m in and smile. Daphne is in the corner with Callie, helping pin her blonde hair off to one side. Callie laughs at something Daphne said while rubbing her belly. Did I forget to mention Toby and Callie are having a baby? Well, they are, and it’s so exciting. She’s about five months along, and has the perfect little bump protruding from beneath the satin lilac-colored gown she’s wearing.

Katie is sitting with them, sitting casually on the small couch along the wall and sipping champagne. All three of them laugh together, and I smile. Before I met Greyston, my friend pool was…limited. Most of my friends from high school had moved away for college, and we were so busy with school and our lives, that we simply fell out of touch. But these three? They were there for me through everything. Daphne and Katie were my rocks through my breakup with Ben, and I bonded with Callie instantly. It only made sense to include them on my special day.

“Oh, honey.” I turn away from the girls just in time to see my parents and baby sister enter the room. “You look gorgeous,” Mom says, pulling me into a one-armed hug while she holds Clara in the other.

When we part, Dad steps forward and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. My fingers curl into the back of his tux jacket and I close my eyes. I can feel his reluctance to let me grow up in his embrace.

“You look so grown up,” he murmurs into the top of my head. “I can’t believe you’re getting married today. Where’s my sweet little girl?”

We loosen our grip on each other, and I take a step back. “I’m still here, Daddy,” I assure him softly.

With tears in his eyes, he leans forward and kisses my forehead. “I didn’t think I’d be this emotional.”

“You and me both,” I quip. Taking a deep breath, I run my hands down the front of my diamond white wedding gown. The strapless, sweetheart neckline fits me perfectly, emphasizing my smaller chest and making it look just a little more impressive. The bodice is tight, moving down over my hips and flaring out at the top of my thighs. The skirt is full, the fabric pulled together and pinned with hundreds of little Swarovski crystals to add a little personality.

“Think he’ll like it?” I ask my mom, and she just laughs, setting Clara down. Her lilac dress is bunched up from being held, so Mom kneels down to fix the crinoline underlay, and then the dress. It falls to just below her knee, and is held with a darker purple bow around the waist. She looks so precious, toddling toward Daphne when she calls her over.

 “He’s going to be speechless,” Mom assures me with another hug.

She sniffles over my shoulder and pulls back, wiping a tear from her cheek. Seeing her this emotional makes my own eyes sting, but I blink back the tears so I don’t mess up my makeup.

Mom reaches up and fixes a wayward tendril of hair that has broken free of the pins holding it over my left shoulder. We share a moment of silence before there’s a knock on the door, telling us everyone is ready.

Daphne walks over with Clara in her arms and Callie and Katie beside her. The three of them are beaming, and their happiness for me sets my mind at ease. The shaking in my limbs lessens.

“You guys look beautiful,” I tell them.

“Well, it helps that you didn’t follow tradition and choose ugly-ass bridesmaid dresses,” Callie teases, and we all share a laugh.

I take Clara from Daphne and give her a kiss before handing her off to Mom. “I guess we’ll see you out there,” I tell her.

She kisses me on the cheek and slips out of the room while the rest of us prepare to move into the hall. When we arrive just outside the double doors, my chest tightens, and my hands begin to sweat. Callie walks through the door when the ushers open it from the inside, then Katie, and finally Daphne.

Now that it’s just my dad and me, air seems hard to come by. I struggle to fill my lungs, and my stomach knots up as the room begins to spin. This is it.

Dad reaches out for me, noticing I’m in the middle of a panic attack, and the second he takes my left hand and loops it through his right arm, I feel a little better. Not completely, but I accept the slight reprieve.

“Just breathe, Jules,” he whispers, placing his left hand over mine and patting it.

I do as he says, taking a deep breath in and then releasing it. I repeat this a few times, and then hold my breath when the doors swing wide and I’m met with almost two-hundred sets of eyes all on me.

“Breathe,” Dad repeats.

Then my eyes find Greyston’s, and my panic melts away when his smile stretches across his face. While he wasn’t what I was looking for when I answered that ad two years ago, he has been there for me in more ways than I can count. He helped me find myself after being betrayed, and more importantly, he showed me what real love is supposed to be  like.

A wave of calm rushes over me, and I step over the threshold anxiously, more than ready to start this next phase in our life together.