Edward laughs. “Did the maid take care of it?”
“Yes, it was just before she left,” I say, reverting back to my grown-up voice. I pick Ricky up and hold him on my hip, supporting his weight. He’s starting to get bigger, and before long I know he’ll be running around the place without my help. I lean up to kiss Edward, smiling as he chucks Ricky on the chin. “You ready for dinner?”
“Oh, yes,” Edward says, rolling his eyes. “So ready. I thought that last meeting would never end. Here, I’ll take him.”
I hand Ricky over as we head into the kitchen, the marble surfaces I admired so much now mine to do with as I wish. I grab a few ingredients out of the cupboards and fire up the oven, getting ready to cook us dinner. “His giraffe is on the dining table.”
Edward disappears for a moment to fetch it, and then begins playing hide and seek with the stuffed toy in front of Ricky’s face. Ricky burbles happily and squeals when the giraffe miraculously reappears, then frowns with dismay when it goes behind Edward’s hands. I keep an eye on dinner at the same time as watching them, proud and feeling my heart swell with it. My boys.
I grab a couple of plates out to start serving up, moving easily around what has so quickly become my home. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now, and with part-time college work balanced around looking after Ricky, I know I made the absolute right choice for my future.
After serving up, I sigh and lean back against the counter, watching them for just a moment longer. My husband, tall and handsome, squatting down on his haunches to make funny faces at our baby boy. He doesn’t mind being silly to make Ricky laugh. For a moment I feel so much love for them it’s almost painful, a happiness so pure it should belong only to the angels. I know I’m exactly where I belong.
“Alright, boys,” I say. “Dinner time. Let’s get him into his highchair.”
And even though the spell is broken, I know one thing is true. Nothing can ever take away the happiness that I feel when I look at my husband and my son, my family, my home – everything I’ve ever wanted.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
Edward
“Upsy daisy – that’s it!” I say, helping Ricky get up onto the seat that he can’t quite reach. He’s four now, and eschews the idea of any form of baby seat with scorn. He’s in school now, he often reminds me, and that makes him a big boy.
Sarah, Casey’s Mom, chuckles indulgently. “Look at you, Ricky, already sitting in a big boy chair,” she says, making him beam with pride.
“I’ve been sitting in a big boy chair for years, I’ll have you know,” Rick – Casey’s Dad, this time, not little Ricky – says, earning a tsk and a light slap on the arm from his wife. He winks at the rest of us around the table. He’s been milking the mistaken identity joke for a long while now, but he still doesn’t seem to have gotten bored of it.
I look up to see that Casey has our one and a half year old daughter, Poppy, settled nicely into her baby chair. She bangs on the side of it experimentally, then grins mischievously. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to tip the thing over so she can make a break for it. We’re raising a hellion, there.
“Alright, are we all settled?” I ask, looking around the table as I take my own seat. My wife, my kids, and my in-laws, not a group I had ever expected to see around a table with me, especially after twenty years of waiting for the right woman to come along. But here we are, and even if it still seems strange that my best friend is now my father-in-law, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Now, do we need to order?” Sarah asks, lifting up a menu and peering at it through her reading glasses.
“No, I’ve already taken care of it,” I tell her with a reassuring wave. “We’re all booked in for the special afternoon tea upgrade. You’re going to love it.”
Casey gives me a knowing smile. We’ve been back here a few times over the years, for afternoon tea at Brown’s. A quintessential London experience, so she loves to remind me. One of our first.
“So, how’s work?” Rick asks, getting down to business as usual. Despite Sarah’s sigh of boredom, put on dramatically to tell him that work talk is for the boardroom, I indulge him.
“It’s going great,” I say. “The company’s never been stronger. All thanks to this one, of course.” I nod towards Casey, enjoying the fact that I can still make her blush.
“I haven’t done much,” she says.
“Of course, you have,” I tell her. “You’ve given me some time off. Now that’s really something.”
Amid laughter, Sarah asks, “So, how does it work now? You share the job?”
“Yes, more or less,” Casey replies. “That way we can also share the baby duty. It’s lucky that with Edward owning the company, there’s no one to tell us how we should or shouldn’t do things. We get to do it our own way.”
“And it does work,” I tell them. “We’re both more efficient, because we get to spend time with our kids and then come back feeling refreshed. And since we both handle slightly different areas of the business, our team has gotten into a rhythm. They know who to talk to about what, and when we’ll be in. We haven’t had a single problem yet.”
“Well, except when you ran out of clean jackets because Poppy kept spitting up on them,” Casey giggles.
“Except that,” I agree wryly, shaking my head at the memory. There’s general laughter around the
