He opened the box, displaying a ring that had one large, center diamond, surrounded by four small ones.
“This ring represents us. You’re the big beautiful stone in the middle. The two stones on the left represent Brendan and me. The two on the right are our unborn babies. Will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
“Yes!” I jumped up to wrap my arms around his neck. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Your parents are gonna shit over this.”
“No, they’re not. They know.”
“They do?”
“I told them before bed that I planned to ask you this morning. I made a promise to our son last night, that when his grandmother dropped him off today, that there would be a ring on his mother’s finger. You didn’t know it, but our trip to Newport today was meant to be a family celebration of our engagement.”
“We’re still doing that trip even with your parents here?”
“They’re invited to come along. If they don’t want to, that’s their problem.”
When we emerged from our engagement bliss, Eleanor and Theo were sitting in the kitchen, sipping their tea. Simon had his arms wrapped around me.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning, Bridget.” His father smiled.
My head was pounding, and I couldn’t even have coffee because I’d decided to eliminate caffeine.
His mother stood. “Can we have a moment?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Dad, let’s take a walk,” Simon said, before disappearing out the front door with his father.
Eleanor and I were officially alone. I really hoped that she wasn’t going to say anything mean to me, because I was in no mood, especially without coffee.
“I need to apologize for my behavior last night. After you went to bed, my son spent the entire evening recounting his experience here. It’s evident that he loves you unconditionally and that I was out of place in thinking that I could sway him in some way. But I assure you I no longer wish to do that.”
“I understand why you felt the way you did. I can’t say I would be any different if it were my son wanting to move to England with someone who had baggage. Until you really know the person or understand the situation, you take it at face value. We all want what’s best for our children.”
“Well, I can see now that what’s best for my son is what makes him happy. And that is you. Thank you for welcoming us into your home.”
She smiled, and it actually seemed genuine.
I lifted my hand, displaying the ring. “Did you see?”
“He showed us last night. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“You know, Simon doesn’t know this, but I had trouble conceiving him. It’s why he’s an only child.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“So, I know how hard that is.”
“Well, I’m hoping that these little guys or girls turn out to be just like your son.”
She bent her head back in almost evil laughter. “He was a holy terror. If they’re anything like little Simon, good luck to you, dear.”
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
It was like I’d died and woken up in pink-washed heaven. I looked around the room at the pink balloons, pink flowers, and pink clothing items strewn about. The hospital room had vomited pink.
It had been an exhausting day with people in and out of Bridget’s suite. First my mother, who’d flown in for the birth, was here. She finally went back to our house to prepare some meals for when we returned.
Then, Bridget’s mother came in from Florida along with Ben’s mother, Ann. It seemed like they were here forever. Right when they left, Calliope and Nigel showed up with a giant, pink stuffed animal. Now with all of the visitors gone, Bridget was finally able to nap. Brendan was in the corner of the room playing quietly on his tablet.
And Daddy was getting alone time with his girls, one in each arm, sleeping like the babies they were. Eleanor Blake on the left and Elizabeth Simone on the right, both named after their grandmothers.
Eleanor’s eyes suddenly opened as she began to cry. I could already see the differences in their personalities. Eleanor was more like me, didn’t like to sleep, never wanted to miss out on any excitement. Loved to suck on Bridget’s tits. Elizabeth was more like her mother, calm and a great sleeper.
I’d already proven to be an overprotective father. They weren’t even out of the womb, and I’d nearly gotten kicked out of the delivery room for trying to direct the physician during the birth. I couldn’t imagine what I was going to be like when they were teenagers. That reminded me that I was going to need backup.
“Hey, Brendan. In about fourteen years, I’m really going to need your help, okay? Be prepared. We’ll have some serious teenage boy butt to kick.”