1. The First Day
ADELAIDE
“I don’t like this.”
It only takes one look in Matt’s direction for me to burst out laughing. Our alarm clock just rang, but based on his wired posture, I’d say he’s probably been awake for hours. If I thought I knew what his grumpy expression looked like, it was before I’d seen what he resembled on the morning of his daughter’s first day at daycare.
Yawning, I sit up and lean against the headboard, dragging a hand over Matt’s messy morning hair. He looks so good even like this, with his dark eyes, long lashes, and pouty lips, sometimes it feels surreal that I’m actually married to this man. It doesn’t matter how many mornings we’ve woken up together. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
“That’s what happens when you have a kid,” I say, trying to keep my amusement under control. “They grow up, go to school, get boyfriends...”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, flipping onto his hard stomach so he can smother his face against the pillow. In a muted voice, he adds, “Can we survive daycare first?”
I get this close to bursting out laughing again--he’s just so easy to rile up, I can’t help myself--but keep myself in check. “Come on. She’ll be fine. What’s the worst that can happen?”
His head snaps up like I just suggested moving away from our home in Cape Veddick to a random town in Canada. “Literally anything? Choking on a bit of broccoli, getting bitten by that nasty Logan from across the street, falling down her high chair, getting kidnapped--”
“Oh my God, drama queen.” This time, I do laugh. “Fine, we get it. Outside world is scary.”
“How are you so calm?”
“Honey, we visited almost all of the daycares in Southern Maine. We picked the very best for her, so I don’t have a single doubt they’ll take good care of our daughter.” If it hadn’t been up to his standards, we would still be looking for a place at this moment. The protectiVeness Matt felt toward Helen is the same one he feels for Mary Helen, except about a thousand times worse. He even considered quitting his job to stay with her until she went to school, but that wouldn’t have been a good idea because by the time she’d have been old enough to go to school, it would’ve been even harder to get her out of the house. Plus, I know how much he loves flying, and I wouldn’t want him to ever give it up.
To be honest, though, I don’t mind his overprotectiveness one bit. Matthias is the best father I could ever have chosen for Mary Helen, and every time I see him play with her or softly tuck her wild curls in a perfect ponytail, always careful not to pull too hard as he ties the pink hair tie, I feel myself falling for him all over again. His love for her--for us--is not just in his words. It’s in every single one of his actions. When he calls off work to take care of us when we’re sick. When he celebrates her birthday with the biggest party you could throw for a one-year-old girl, the pride evident in his gaze. Yes, that’s my daughter already walking at nine months. When he wakes up early to watch cartoons with her, and when I finally get out of bed, I find the two of them dancing around in the kitchen, making pancakes and giggling about a bird they saw outside, windows open so we can hear the waves crashing against the cliffside and the seagulls squawking, the blue of the water behind them making the scene picture perfect.
He rubs his sleepy eyes and groans. “I hate this.”
I try to keep my smile to myself, I really try, but apparently I fail because he says, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Addy, what is it?”
“Nothing!” I move to my side so I can tease him with my foot under the covers, the hair on is legs tickling my toes. “You’re just hot when you’re all protective daddy.”
For the first time since we woke up, I get a smile out of him. “Yeah?”
God, how is it that even after three years married, he can make me feel this way? Like my insides are melting. Like I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to.
“Mmhmm.”
“Well, if you like it...” With a devious smirk, he pounces, pinning me to my back and kissing the spot on my neck he knows makes me wild. My curls spread around me, likely looking horrible after I fell asleep with them mussed from Matt’s hands, but with the way he’s touching me, I’d say he doesn’t give a single crap. Already I feel him hard against me, and I waste no time wrapping my legs around his hips and bringing his lips to mine.
And of course, that’s exactly when Mary Helen decides to let out a wail, letting us know she’s awake.
Matt moans, kissing me an extra second longer before pulling away. “As much as I’d like to continue,” he says, accenting his words by a thrust of his hips that’s just plain mean, “I think we’ll need a raincheck.”
I want to pout, but I can’t. Not when we’re getting up for this.
“It’s my turn, today, isn’t it?” he says, brow lifted.
I gasp, jokingly shoving his shoulder. “You went yesterday!”
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, grinning like a devil.
“You know it’s my turn.”
“Well, since there’s uncertainty, I guess it’s first come, first serve, yeah?” He leans forward, gives my lips one last peck, and then the traitor gets up in one fast move.
“Oh, you little--” I don’t habe the time to finish my sentence, instead swinging myself out of bed and using the momentum to pull him by the arm and shobe him down on the fluffy bedspread. This earns a loud boom of laugh out of him, which in turn makes me chuckle.
“That’s cheating, Addy!”
“Oh, well,” I say, already running toward our daughter’s room. “Sucks to be you.” Besides, he cheated first.
I hear his footsteps behind me, but we both know he’s lost. I reach the handle of Mary Jelen’s door first, and immediately, I step in, finding my daughter standing in her crib, her hair forming a halo around her head that probably mirrors mine. Just like every morning, the moment we step inside her room, her tears stop, and the most showstopping smile takes over her face, making whoever’s turn it is to pick her up feel like a million bucks. Pure, undiluted love fills my veins as I walk to and say, “Hi, kitten.”
She smiles even brighter somehow when she hears my voice, stretching her arms above her head. I grab her and cover her face with kisses, making her giggle when I reach the ticklish rolls of her chubby neck.
“Cheater,” Matt teases when he enters the room, and then all his attention is on her. I can’t even be mad about it. I think the word for what we are with her is obsessed. I don’t know why we were ever nervous about getting pregnant. Sure, it was fast after our wedding, but it was also the most wonderful gift. The camera rolls of our phone are filled to the brim with pictures of her doing literally anything. Look, she just sneezed! Look, a tooth! Look, look, look!
“Stop whining,” I say. “It was my turn.”
“Uh-huh,” he says like he doesn’t know damn well I’m telling the truth, then steps to us so he can kiss Mary Helen’s forehead and caress her cheek with a long finger, saying, “Good morning baby.”
“Dada,” she says, her favorite word in the universe.
I grin, passing her to the one she clearly wants right now. His face brightens as he eagerly picks her up, lifting her high in the air, which inevitably makes her squeal. Then, he brings her back down, settling her on his hip. As I look at the two of them, I once again have to ask myself how it’s possible I got so lucky. Somehow, I have a feeling my two mothers are responsible for putting those two angels in my path.
“Are you ready to go make friends at daycare?” I ask.
“Yeshhh,” she says before she starts wiggling, a clear sign she wants to be put down. When her plump feet touch the ground, she starts running in the hallway, heading for the kitchen.
“She’s just like her grandmother, isn’t she?” I say as we follow her small steps while still giving her some space to explore. Brave. Unafraid of all that life has to offer, only seeing the opportunities in what’s to come.
Matt’s lips curl up, then he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, the clean smell of him almost enough to make me moan. I dig my nose into his shirt, stealing some of his warmth.
“Yeah, she is.” He snickers once. “Sometimes I think they’d be best friends.”
“They really would,” I say. “Running around in the backyard like she did when Louis was a kid.” My little brother loved her almost as much as I did. He wouldn’t admit this now that he’s a tween who only cares about his phone and PlayStation and doesn’t want his big sister to hug him anymore (I’m not six anymore, Addy!),but I know it’s the truth all the same.
“God, she’d love that,” I say. “They both would.”
I hug him tighter. I know how much he wishes his mother had gotten the chance to meet our daughter--I do too--but I also feel like wherever she is, she knows about Mary Helen. Every day in this house, I feel her around us, in the romance novels still stacked in our living room shelf and in the letters piled up in boxes that sit on each of our nightstands, and that brings me peace.
In the kitchen, Mary Helen opens the bottom cupboards and pulls out a box of Cheerios.
“Want some cereal, sweetheart?” Matt asks, scooping her up. She nods, so he goes on to prepare her bowl one-handed, all the while asking her about her dreams from last night and oohing and ahhing at all the right moments, even though half of what she’s saying makes no sense since a) she’s just started talking, and b) she usually dreams of unicorns swimming in the ocean, and that only makes my heart swell eVen more.
And then Matt looks up and gives me a smile, one that tells me he knows exactly how I’m feeling because it’s the same for him, and I think to myself, yeah, I really am the luckiest.
2. The Anniversary
VIOLET
The moment I see their SUV approaching our driveway, my heart stutters, the same way it did when I was the one arriving at the beach house for the summer. With both our families living in different states, it always feels wonderful to have our loved ones come to us. We travel often to see Sam, my brothers, and our respective parents, but it's never the same as when we're here, in the house that quite literally built us, time and time again.
"They're here!" I shout from my spot at the bay window, standing on my tiptoes on the couch's armrest to have the best view of the road beyond the cedar hedge. I let myself down, careful not to let my excitement trip me over. That'd be just my luck.
"Coming”!" Will hollers from the kitchen. Even if he hasn't said so, I'd bet my right hand he's preparing one of his poisonous punches. How such a smart man--one who teaches the future of our nation, mind you--cannot figure out how to make cocktails that won't kill his guests in one sip is beyond me. Still, I Know Aaron and Wren will take a sip and pretend it's great, just like we all do. No one ever feels like bursting Will's bubble. It's always been like this, even when we were kids and he'd suggest buying Tootsie Rolls when we went to the candy store by the water in Perkins Cove. No one on this entire planet except for Will actually likes Tootsie Rolls, but when it was him who suggested it, Jensen, Ollie, Samantha, and I would pretend like his idea was great because Will's happiness taints everyone around. Will smiles, and suddenly it feels impossible not to smile too, like if he's happy, then everything's right in the world.
Without waiting for him, I run to the front door and fling it open before the car even has the time to stop rolling. My lips curl into a too-big smile as Aaron opens his own door, then rushes to Wren's side.
"I'm able to open my own door, you know," she says the second he pulls it open. Even though she's wearing a seemingly serious expression, I've gotten to know her enough since Will's cousin got with her to know she's only joking. Even if I didn't, the stars in her eyes speak for themselves. I've never seen two people so in love as these two. It's almost sickening, except that I know Will and I probably look like that to others too.
Their three dogs escape from the open door and rush to us, but Aaron and Wren don't seem to notice.
"It's my wedding anniversary, so I'll be cheesy to my wife if I want to be."
She finally cracks a smile, never gazing away from him. A year ago to this day, we were sitting on a beach in the Dominican Republic, listening to the most beautiful wedding vows ever uttered, and just by looking at them, I can tell they never wavered from their words.
I feel too bad to interrupt their love-filled moment, keeping silent as I pet the dogs before they rush inside the house, but apparently my husband doesn't because the moment he steps outside, shirtless and barefoot, his curls still wet from the surfing session we just came back from, he shouts, "How's my favorite cousin?"
The two of them turn our way, smiling wide as they make their way to us.
"Great. I missed you, man," Aaron says as he hugs Will. I greet Wren the same way, then move to Aaron. Sam is only joining us tonight--Our five-month-old nephew hasn't been sleeping much, or at all, recently, so Sam and Caleb, her husband, said they'd use the morning to nap. I can't blame them. Besides, Sam's always needed more sleep than most, so if I can have her at her least cranky, I'll take it, although even at her crankiest, I'd be so damn happy to see her. Since Will and I moved into the beach house, I've been able to see her more often than I ever did when I lived in Syracuse as a teen, but even so, I miss her from the moment we separate until I finally get to see her again. It's even worse now that she's created one of my favorite people on earth. The one that triggered my baby fever, real and true.
"So, tell us everything we've missed. Any new travel destination?" I ask as we step inside, each of us carrying luggage and dropping it in the foyer before heading toward the sunroom, my favorite place in the house. Even after a long day of painting at the gallery, I always love to settle here and draw, just for the fun of it. Sometimes it's of an element that reminds me of summer, sometimes I get inspiration from something I saw in town, but my favorite drawings remain the ones I do with Will as a model. Last month, he surprised me by coming out of the bathroom buck naked and remained silent while I was cracking up, simply lying down on our bed like some kind of overconfident nude model. As ridiculous as it was, I grabbed the opportunity and drew him just like I was seeing him, and then I climbed into bed with him and figured out just how good of a model he could be. I can confirm that marriage hasn't dulled my need for him or his need for me. Quite the opposite, in fact. Two years in, and I still get that feeling every day, the one that makes me want to be with him all the time, to cuddle or kiss or touch him always.
Once they're seated, Wren practically in Aaron's lap, his hands on her thigh and hip, he says, "Not a lot to say. Except for that stint in Venezuela this winter, we've mostly been enjoying our life in Boston." He sends a glance in his wife's direction, and the emotion in it means more than words ever could. I Know Wren's looming diagnosis kept them apart at first, but once they finally gave in and agreed to love each other and cherish the moments they have together instead of fearing whatever could happen in the future, they've been stronger and happier than ever before. Their words, not mine.
Will tangles his fingers in my hair as Wren turns to Aaron and says, "We are planning something for the next few months, though. We're thinking Singapore, maybe?"
"God, I've always wanted to go," Will says, letting his head drop back. The movement brings a draft of sea salt and lemongrass shampoo, the smell as familiar as the man next to me is. Rolling his head to the left, he clasps my knee in his large palm and says, "What if we joined them this time?"
I chuckle awkwardly. "Way to go, inviting yourself."
"Shit, sorry guys."
Wren bats a hand. "No, that'd be so fun, actually." She sends a teasing look in Aaron's direction as she says, "This way, I could get a break from this one."
Aaron drops his chin to Wren's shoulder. "Sorry, cariño, but never happening." Then, he lunges and presses a kiss to her smiling lips before she can escape him. Neither Will nor I can stop ourselves from grinning at the scene.
"See?" Will says, tucking a strand of blond hair behind my ear in a way that sends shivers down my spine. "They don't mind if we join them."
I try to keep my smile, but I really hope he'll let this go. Besides, I don't know where this urge to travel is coming from. We're both homebodies and usually, he prefers our own stretch of heaven in Ogunquit to any other place in the world.
"Let me go get the drinks for a toast to you two," I say, getting up from my spot on the couch.
"I'll go get them," Will says, and for the first time, I wish he wasn't so gallant.
"No, I'm good," I say, giving his lips a peck before escaping toward the kitchen, but of course, the little heathen follows me.
"What's up?" he asks once we're alone in the kitchen, out of earshot from our guests.
"Huh?" I ask, opening the fridge and taking out his pitcher of sangria and a bottle of orange juice. Maybe his concoction can still be saved if I dilute it a little.
"I said, what's up?"
When I turn his way, he's leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed in a way that makes his bulging biceps even more mouthwatering than they usually are.
"Nothing's up."
"V, I know you better than I know myself. Something's up."
I clench my teeth, trying to perfect my poker face. I thought I'd planned everything right, but I hadn't taken into account how well Will can read me. Always has, and likely always will.
So, I go for another strategy and narrow my eyes at him before saying, "Nothing for you to worry about."
"Said every person in a worrisome position ever."
I ignore him, bringing the drinks to the counter and leaning for the wine glasses, but Will shifts at the last second to block my path.
"Will."
"Violet."
"I need those glasses."
"And I," he says before leaning forward and kissing my lips tenderly, "need to know what's up with my wife."
"You're impossible."
His lips curve into a shit-eating grin, then he steps forward and invades all my space, one of his hands reaching between us. A long finger traces my middle ever-so-softly, making me gasp as he whispers against my ear, "What if I promised a very nice reward for your honesty?"
I'm incredibly tempted to say yes, but before I let myself fall for his scheme, I pull away and grab the glasses behind him.
"Hm," he says, his arms back to their crossed position. "I don't remember the last time that didn't work."
"Think you're losing your charm, Seaberg?"
"Based on your blush, I'd say that's a clear no."
I shrug, then make him face my back so I can start filling the glasses.
"Well," Will sighs. "I'm sorry it had to get to this, but you're leaving me no choice."
"Wh-- Ahh!" I curl myself into a ball as he begins his attack of tickles, the one thing that will make me break every time. The little shit.
"Please," I say between giggles, trying to fight him to no avail.
"Am I I still charming, baby?" he says, glee tainting his voice.
"V-very,"
"The most charming?"
"Yes." Not a lie.
"And are you going to tell me everything?"
I squirm against him, out of breath. "T-tomorrow." It can't be today. Not when we're celebrating Wren and Aaron.
"Why can't it be—" His voice drifts off and he finally stops his attack. "Why are you only filling three glasses?"
"Because..." I crack my neck, chewing at the inside of my lip. I guess it's too late now. Meeting his dark blue eyes, I say, "Because I can't drink that."
His brows furrow. "It might not be the best, but I'm sure--"
"No, Will." I swallow. "I can’t drink that."
It takes a moment, but I see when the realization hits him. His gaze widens and his lips part on a gasp. Blood rushes into his cheeks, his breathing stuttering. "Are you serious? Like, really serious?"
I nod softly.
His feet eat the space between us and he brings his hands to my face, thumbs rubbing my cheekbone. "No joking, baby. Not about that."
I chuckle, feeling another burst of infinite love for this man. "I'm not joking. I took the test this morning." I'd thought I'd be able to wait to tell him the news until we weren't celebrating others' special occasion, but I failed spectacularly. I guess they didn't help with their sudden travel plan, but I didn't want to agree to plan a trip to Singapore when I'll probably be heavily pregnant by then.
I don't have words to describe the smile that overtakes Will's face next. It is as if he swallowed the sun, like he's made of pure light. And then I'm in his arms, being twirled around and kissed on my face, my head, my hands. We laugh and cry and laugh again, happiness Filling every inch of space between us. When he finally lets me go, it's to drop to his knees and whisper to my belly, "I already love you so much." He glances up, tears brimming in his ocean eyes, the ones I've fallen in love with every single day since I was a teen. "A mini version of my favorite person." In a feather-soft voice, he says, "Thank you."
How did I ever get so lucky?
Will gets back up, and then we're laughing and hugging again.
"You think weqre ready for this?" I say when we separate. It's not like we weren't trying, but imagining it is not the same thing as actually living it. I had a five-minute mental breakdown this morning, but then I made myself calm down. If I have Will by my side, I told myself, it'll be fine.
"Fuck yeah, we are." His palm drifts to my stomach. "They'll have two parents who'll love them fiercely, and that has to mean something."
"It does."
Once we've gotten ourselves under control, we promise to keep it on the down low for tonight, then make an alcohol-free cocktail for me that looks like the sangria Will mixed and bring the glasses to the living room. When we cross the threshold, Aaron and Wren jump away from their tangle like we definitely interrupted something. Their two bigger dogs are asleep on the hardwood floor while the smaller, white one sits between the two of them, cuddling against its parents.
"Thanks," Aaron says, grabbing two glasses and passing one to Wren.
I lift my own. "To you both, for surviving your first married year."
They turn to each other, and with a soft smile, Wren says, "It wasn't surviving. It was definitely living."
They kiss each other, and when they part, Will says, "To love!" As he raises his glass to clink with mine, I don't miss the quick glance he throws my belly.
Yeah, my baby truly will have the best daddy.
"To love," Aaron says.
We all clink and drink, and even when Aaron and Wren wince at the taste of their sangria, no one says a word because Will is smiling as wide as the world and that's as sacred to them as it is to me.
This, I think as I look around, knowing that my family is yet again growing. This is what pure happiness feels like.