EMMAEverything was perfect in my cabin. I'd closed the curtains just enough to keep the light at a minimum. I had candles burning over almost every surface, and I was diffusing my favorite lavender oil through the air. Soft music played over my speakers, strategically placed around the cabin.Deacon had texted about twenty minutes ago that he was leaving the hospital. I'd rushed to finish the last-minute touches and then carefully dressed in my special outfit: a sheer, flowy dress that hugged my boobs and just barely skimmed the middle of my thighs, under which I wore exactly nothing. No bra, no panties . . . just me, carefully groomed and lotioned for the activity I'd planned for us. I heard Deacon's truck pulling up along my gravel drive, and my stomach flipped over into a series of somersaults. I hoped he was going to like this, but I wasn't sure. I was taking a risk. I stood just behind the sofa, listening to his footsteps on the porch. The front door opened, and he stepped
EMMA"Well, I'm never going to forget this day, that's for sure." Standing in the kitchen with me, chopping vegetables, my mother reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. "I mean, honey, that was just . . . the look on your face when you opened the front door. And then poor Deacon comes out of your room, and there's the both of you, looking just a mess, and there's still candles and music and that table in the middle of the room . . .""You know, Mom, I was there." I closed my eyes, mortification still fresh. "And that happened, like, three hours ago. Believe me when I say it's too soon for me to laugh about my parents nearly walking in on me with . . ." With my knife, I pointed toward my back deck, where we could hear the men's voices. Deacon and my dad were manning the grill, because my father claimed that was a necessary part of male bonding, and he wanted to get to know Deacon. As he'd passed by me in the kitchen, picking up a spatula and oil, Deacon had murmured in my e
DEACON"What do you think he's going to do?" It was early in the morning, and outside Emma's cabin, I could hear the sounds of the world waking up. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping. In the far-off distance, I heard a rooster crowing at a neighboring farm. Inside the cabin, though, it was quiet and peaceful. I lay in Emma's bed, my arms wrapped around her as my chest pressed into her back. "Who?" I asked, although I had a good idea about what she was asking."Ted." Emma rolled in my arms to face me. Her hair tangled and fell into her eyes, giving me the perfect excuse to brush it away and wrap one silky strand around my finger. "Mmm. I don't know." I stretched, dropping onto my back and easing her head onto my chest. "But I did what I did very intentionally. I followed the advice of a very wise naturopath who often tells me that giving patients a choice, even if it's between two things they don't really want, offers a sense of autonomy. Makes them feel like partners
DEACON"Gone?" I replied dumbly. "He . . . died?" I knew it was a possibility. He'd been in the ICU for a while, and there was always the chance of a pulmonary embolism, or something we hadn't picked up yet, or even a heart attack . . ."No. He left. There was some kind of kerfuffle with Mrs. Wilkie-it wasn't anything serious, just an alarm they couldn't get turned off-and then just now, Andi went in to take Ted's vitals, and the bed was empty. He'd disconnected all the IVs, the oxygen . . . his bag isn't in the closet." "Oh." I stood there for a few moments, frozen to the spot. "Okay. Well, I guess that was his way of giving me his answer on treatment, huh?" Darcy laid her hand on my arm. "I'm sorry, Deacon." Mira sighed. "I am, too. For all that I didn't want to hope Ted would do the right thing, I guess I did, after all. I wanted him to stick around long enough to give Anna and Jimmy some peace. But that's not going to happen." "It's okay." I managed a smile. "Really, Mira
EMMA"And now I'd like to say a few words." Standing on the front porch of Anna and Jimmy Girard's farmhouse, my dad grinned broadly at Deacon and me. Next to me at the small table for two we shared, Deacon snickered. "Is this where your father tells embarrassing stories about you?"I elbowed my new husband in his ribs, making him go ooof. "Behave yourself. There are no embarrassing stories about me. I've always been the model of perfection you see here before you." Deacon skimmed his lips down the side of my neck. "Em, I love you beyond the telling, and to me, you're perfect. But the rest of the world probably doesn't see either of us the same way.""Hmmm. Why is that, do you think?" I turned my head to smile up at Deacon. "Why can't they see that we're the smartest, the kindest, and the most amusing two people on earth?" "I guess they're just not looking with the same eyes we are." His arm tightened around me. "Now shhhh. Dr. Baldwin's talking."I rolled my eyes. "Suck up
NOAH"Good morning. Noah Spencer. Wow." The man standing behind the large oak desk wagged his head even as he reached across to shake my hand. "I have to admit, I can hardly believe I'm standing here in my office talking to you. I'm a big fan."I let him pump my arm a few seconds as I managed a smile. "Is that allowed? I thought guys like you had to be . . . you know. Neutral. No biases or anything like that." Father George rolled his eyes. "I'm a priest, Noah, not a saint. Also, there aren't any rules about cheering for our favorite teams. It's not like I have any special inside sway to make my guys win. It's all up to Spirit in the Sky." He grinned. "Now, that's not to say that I haven't lifted up my share of petitions for Tampa on big game days. But I'm comforted by knowing that there are lots of ministers, priests, rabbis and imams-among other clergy-asking for favor for their teams, too. It all balances out, I think. Someone's got to win, and someone's got to lose, and in the
NOAH"I can only imagine. How did you cope with that?" "The only way I know. I just keep on putting one foot in front of the other. I've buried myself in football. I work out every day. I do whatever the team asks of me. I smile in public. And then I come home to an empty house, to the place where I see my dead wife around every fucking corner, and I get through the night time hours until I can leave again." I rubbed my hand over my forehead, where the seed of a headache was beginning to blossom."Have you thought about moving? It might be the kindest option for yourself," Father George remarked."No." I shook my head. "If I move away, I lose the last piece of Angela that I have left. Sometimes I can still smell her perfume in the closet. Or I'll dig into the back of the freezer and find a loaf of banana bread that she made and froze for me before she went to the hospital. Or-" I choked a bit. "I go into the room that was going to be the nursery for the baby we never got to concei
ALISON"Hey there! Alison Wakely, right? Come in. Sit down." Closing the office door behind me, I approached the small seating area. The therapist was perched in a wing chair, her shoes off and her feet curled alongside her. She was young-probably a year or two older than me. My previous doctors had been in their forties or fifties, but since Brooke Slater came highly recommended and had agreed to see me despite a full patient load, I wasn't going to complain."Thanks." I glanced at the love seat for a second before I decided to settle in the wing chair opposite Dr. Slater. "I heard you joined Dr. Johanson's practice." She smiled. "He took care of my family for over ten years, and then my insurance company changed and we had to move to a group right outside Tampa. It's a pain in the ass, and I really miss that personal touch you get from a small-town family practice. Dr. Johanson even made house calls when my babies were small. He was a treasure." She sighed. "But you're not her
NOAHNoahIt was a beautiful day for a wedding. We gathered at mid-morning under the covenant oak on Jimmy and Anna Girard's farm. Alison and I had decided that since Emma and Deacon's wedding had been the start of our love story, we should say our vows under the canopied branches of that same steadfast tree. We hadn't wanted anything grand or involved, but it was important to us that the special people in our lives were present. So when Alison and I joined hands and made our vows, among those surrounding us were Emma and Deacon, Darcy and Jackson, Jenny and Nico, Mira Hoskins, and all of the people who worked with Alison in her practice. Maggie Corning, the midwife, and Brooke Slater, Alison's therapist, were there, too. My family had flown down en mass from Wisconsin and other key points around the country. My mother couldn't stop smiling, and my dad looked proud. Even my brothers and sisters and their families were behaving themselves. And then of course, there was the Tam
ALISONA human being can accomplish almost any task while sobbing her eyes out. I'd known this from experience in my past life, but after Noah left that afternoon, I went about proving it all over again.I cried as I wiped the table and counters. I wept as I took out a frozen macaroni and cheese to eat for dinner. I sobbed as I climbed the steps and listened at the baby's door-she was still asleep in the crib. I sniffled as I switched a load of newborn clothes from the washer to the dryer.He was gone, and I was alone. Again. Naturally.The hell of it was that even as he'd pleaded his case to me, even as he'd told me that he loved me, I'd known he was telling the truth. I believed him. But I couldn't trust what he thought he felt, not when people changed their minds about being in love all the damn time. People claimed to love a friend or a child or a lover, and then they changed their minds. It happened. I knew it first-hand. I'd experienced it over and over again before I was t
NOAH"Where's the baby?" Alison walked into the kitchen, her face etched with fatigue. We'd had a long and trying few days as Evangeline had apparently been going through a growth spurt: she nursed almost constantly and was difficult to console the rest of the time. She'd fought sleep, and she'd cried piteously no matter what we'd tried to do. The pediatrician had assured us that this was normal and we'd get through it, but privately, I thought he was a heartless imbecile who clearly didn't understand that our daughter was advanced and needed more attention than the typical newborn. But finally, today we'd caught a break. Alison had gone upstairs to take a shower-her first in three days-and somehow, I'd managed to get the baby to sleep without the benefit of a boob. More than that, I'd actually laid her in the crib without waking her up. I was pretty satisfied with myself, all in all. I was also crossing my fingers that she'd stay asleep long enough that her mother and I could d
NOAHParenthood was amazing, fulfilling, beautiful, awesome . . . and exhausting. The first few weeks of baby Evangeline's life at home were a blur, a constant, never-ending whirlwind of feeding, and changing, and washing, and catching whatever small bites of sleep we could whenever she slept. People came to visit and brought gifts and food, and I was pathetically grateful for that, because I didn't have the energy to cook, and both Alison and I were tired of takeout. The one factor that made everything survivable was the baby herself. God, I hadn't known how much I was going to love this ten-pounds of tiny, perfect human. I'd never anticipated that staring at her sleep for an hour was better than four quarters of football. Or that catching what might have been a smile could make me feel as though I'd just witnessed greatness. What was some missing sleep compared with noting how well my two-week-old daughter could lift up her head?Even so, as much as I was ga-ga over my baby gir
ALISON"Congratulations, mama! You're at six. I think it's time to break your water and get things really going." It sounded like a great idea to me, but I saw Noah's lips go white. "Are you okay?" I asked, rubbing my fingers over the back of his hand. "You look a little green." He swallowed, his throat convulsing. "This is the only part I'm a little, uh, squeamish about. I watched that birth online, and breaking the water looked-intense." Maggie chuckled. "Stay up there by Alison and keep your eyes on her face. We don't need papa hitting the floor and suing the hospital." Noah did as he was told, watching me intently as if waiting for me to show some sign of distress. "Does it hurt?" he asked quietly. "The water part, I mean." I shook my head. "It feels a little weird, but not-oooooh!" I gasped as I felt the gush hit my inner thighs. "Okay, then. Eyes here, Noah. Come on. We're in this together." After that, it felt as though everything got a lot more serious. The con
ALISON Spoiler alert: having sex with Noah did not start my labor.But it sure was worth the effort. Two days after that monumental night-and after we'd given it the good old college try several more times-we went to Maggie's office. I was in a rotten mood-being a million years pregnant can do that to a person-and poor Noah looked a little haggard. He'd been sleeping with me in my bed (we both clung to the excuse that if I went into labor, I'd want him closer than across the hall), which meant that he woke up whenever I had to climb out of that bed to pee. He thought I'd been exaggerating about how often I had to go. He was quickly disabused of that notion. After a quick exam, Maggie made some notes on her tablet and then turned to the both of us. "So listen," she began. "Do you want to have this baby?" I stared at her as though she'd lost her mind. "What the hell do you think I've been trying to do for over three weeks now, Maggie?" I bellowed. "Of course, I want to have th
NOAHNow I got it. The night we'd first had sex-the night after Emma and Deacon's wedding-we'd challenged each other to come up with the sexiest, most outrageous names for cocktails. Alison was playing the game again."Ohhhhh." I grinned. "I still don't believe that last one is legit.""It totally is. The bartender confirmed it." With a smile that was deceptively seductive for an extremely pregnant woman, she reached down to grasp the bottom of her oversized T-shirt-which was not so oversized just now-and lifted it over her head. I helped just to make sure she didn't topple over in the process. It was the first time I'd really seen her without a shirt in many months. My first few impressions were awe at the size of her swollen middle. I knew she was huge, but damn. The skin was stretched as tight as a drum, and her belly button looked like a cork just about to give way. And her boobs-they were incredible. Within the utilitarian maternity bra, they were still the sexiest breasts
NOAH"What's the world record for the longest pregnancy ever?" I glanced up at Alison from the book I was reading. We were both lying on her bed while a movie that neither of us was very invested in played on the TV. The couch downstairs had become too uncomfortable for her over the past week or so, so we'd begun hanging out here in her room. It was strictly for comfort, though; we stayed on top of the covers, with Alison on one side while I stuck to the other. It was a king-sized bed with plenty of room for us. But while we hadn't hesitated to cuddle and kiss on the sofa, something about being on the bed made us more cautious. I didn't know why, exactly; Alison was so tired of being pregnant that she wasn't up for much of anything other than television lately. She'd stopped going into the office after her due date since she'd already arranged with Dr. Johanson to cover her hours. So we were both at home now all the time . . . just waiting.She really was huge. While the ultraso
ALISON"Read me that last part again?" Noah and I were sitting in the nursery, surrounded by boxes, gift bags, and about a million pieces of a pine crib. He had spent the last two weeks focusing on the nursery. He'd painted the room a lovely pale yellow color, insisting that I stay with Emma and Deacon at the cabin for the two nights after he'd completed the first and second coats so that I didn't have to inhale the paint fumes. Together, we had selected the crib and the dressing table. Noah's mother had sent us the cradle that all of her children had slept in, and that was already set up in my bedroom.Now, with my due date less than ten days away, we were finally tackling the project of building all of the furniture that hadn't come pre-assembled. I squinted at the paper in my hand, trying to decipher the words."I'm pretty sure that this was translated directly from Swedish by someone who didn't speak English," I commented. "It doesn't seem to make sense.""Does it say at wh