The Knocked Up Plan(81)

“Where’s the doggie?” I ask.

My blond-haired, blue-eyed son points to my white and brown collie mix. Romeo lounges in the August sun that shines brightly here in the communal rooftop gardens of our apartment building.

“Yes, that’s right. That’s our doggie. Can you say Romeo?”

“Doggie.”

I laugh, then snip some thyme from a miniature potted wheelbarrow where we grow herbs. The mini wheelbarrow was a gift from my wife for my last birthday. We’d tried the Wheelbarrow, and I’m loathe to admit this, but she was right. It didn’t work for far too many reasons. Mostly because she hated being upside down in what she called a ridiculously awkward and uncomfortable position. She rode me like a Crouching Cowgirl instead, and that was fine with me.

The next day, she gave me this ceramic mini wheelbarrow, and we planted some herbs in it.

Win some, lose some.

But honestly, I’m winning at pretty much everything.

I’m still working at Hanky Panky Love with my wife, but I’m there as a freelancer now, and so is she. She cut back her hours and started working from home more, and somehow we make it all fit, taking turns caring for our son. We still do our shows, and she writes her columns, too. I’ve cut back on those since my consulting business picked up. After Aaron, I nabbed a few more guys, and word spread. Now the Consummate Wingman has found a specialty niche in helping divorced guys get back out there.

It makes me feel damn good to give these men strategies that help them build confidence to put their hearts on the line again, especially since I can walk the walk and talk the talk. I’m writing a book on the topic. I don’t have a title yet, but my publisher wants to call it Got Your Back Again. Maybe it’ll stick. The bio, though, was easy to write.

Ryder Lockhart and his lovely wife Nicole have a son, two dogs, and a very happy ever after.

It’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

I also have a date with my wife tonight, so after the little man and I head inside and I mix up a pasta dish for my wife, I answer the door. Her friends are here, since both Penny and Delaney said they’d babysit tonight.

Penny scoops my son into her arms and coos at him. She loves kids and Delaney does, too. Nicole and I have a running bet on who will be the first among her friends to follow in her footsteps. I say Penny, but Nicole says Delaney.

“You are the cutest little guy in the entire universe,” Penny says, then plants a huge kiss on his forehead.

Robert squeals with laughter. “Doggie!”

Penny cracks up. Ruby races over to greet Penny, and my son mixes in another word. “Ruby!”

Delaney leans in to kiss him, too. “Are you ready to go shopping with your aunts?”

I groan. “You’re taking him shopping?”

“We need to train him early to be a good boy when the ladies shop,” Penny says. “Besides, Delaney needs shoes.”

“It’s true,” Delaney says with a straight face. “I do need shoes.”

After they leave, I take my wife for a round of mini golf, since we still try to find interesting dates. After she wins, she suggests we grab a drink at the bar at Grand Central.

But she doesn’t order champagne. She orders lemonade. After she finishes it, I learn why. She takes me to the Whispering Arch, and when she’s on the other side, I hear some of my favorite words from her.

“I’m pregnant.”

And I’m the happiest man on the face of the earth.

Nine months later, we have a girl, and we name her Rosemary.

She is an absolute angel.







THE END