by K. C. Crowne
But our hearts were just as full.
Jeremiah had a girl on each hip, but my mother took Charlotte from me, coddling and cooing. She treated all three girls like her granddaughters, and as far as we were concerned, they were our family. They called me mama, and I loved them as much I did my own. One day they would learn about Lauren, when they were old enough. Because even though I didn’t like the woman very much, in the end, she did the right thing for everyone. She did what was right for her babies, even though it cost her her life.
I took Amelia from Jeremiah, and he wrapped his free arm around my waist, dotting a kiss on my forehead as he held me close.
“Mayor Schaeffer, are you ready to go on?” a young staffer asked me.
“Oh, yes, of course,” I said, handing Amelia back to her father. She reached for me, wanting me to continue holding her.
“Mama.”
“I’ll be right back, sweetie. Mama has to go talk to these fine people.”
I kissed the tip of her nose and made sure all my girls were fine before heading up to the podium.
I was dedicating a large section of Liberty land at the base and in the mountains as a city park. I was also announcing our conservation efforts to keep the lands pristine and untouched - one of the main points I ran on with my election.
I stepped up to the podium and saw my family smiling back at me.
Josie was there with her husband Cyrus and their children. Other familiar faces too. Piper and Grant, with their little family. Lucy, who had once been my assistant editor and now ran the paper. I’d left her in charge, since being mayor and mother was hard enough. And so no one could accuse me of being biased in my own campaign, not that I had anyone running against me since George Holt was in prison. Felicity was off by herself, near the back, standing outside the doors of her diner. Her property butted up against the new city park land, and she was one of my biggest supporters.
We all loved this town, and now I was in charge of protecting it.
For my family and all of theirs.
My speech was fairly brief, talking about the initiatives we had planned along with conservation efforts and activities we would bring to Liberty.
I ended the speech with, “I’m dedicated to protecting Liberty, the town we’ve all lived in and loved. I grew up here, I came back here, and I intend to stay for the rest of my life. I will raise my children here, and while I will support economic growth and development for the small businesses that make our town so special, I will never let that tarnish the beautiful town we call home.”
The applause was deafening, and I could see my baby girl starting to fuss from all the noise. I was mayor, but I was also a mom and my family would always come first. They were the reason I discovered my new passion: politics.
I hurried from the stage and scooped Charlotte into my arms, and as soon as she was with her mother, she quieted down.
“She has the magic touch,” Jeremiah said with a wink to my mom.
“That she does.”
My speech might have been over, but the event was just getting started. People from outside Liberty had also come out to the event, journalists from other parts of Utah and even national papers too.
I’d made a name for myself. Not only from running for mayor, but publishing an article, and later a book, about the Holts and the entire case and how an innocent man had almost gone to prison. It was a cautionary tale for other towns that might be blinded by the money.
And it was a best-seller all over the world.
I’d peaked with my writing career, in my opinion. I turned down offers from People and Time to write for them - turning my attention to being more active in politics, no longer content to be just a passive observer and reporter.
And this was only the beginning for me.
Jeremiah stood back with Amelia and Grace, and my mom had taken Charlotte as I talked to the press, keeping them out of the public eye. That was something we agreed upon, and I made it clear to anyone who wanted to talk to me - my daughters were off-limits for photos.
I answered a few questions, then excused myself to spend the rest of the time with my family. Being in the public eye was exhausting, but I was better suited for it than Jeremiah.
“It’s clear we’ve made the right choice in who ran for office,” Jeremiah whispered into my ear.
I chuckled. “Damn straight we did.”
Jeremiah was still working, but only when he wanted to. We had a nanny part-time, but mostly we raised our kids ourselves. Jeremiah worked from home a lot, and he seemed to like caring for the girls himself. I was home as much as I could be, making sure I never neglected my family for my career. Liberty was a town that understood family came first; it was never an issue. I was almost always home for dinner, and I would always put the girls to bed with Jeremiah. Some things were non-negotiable.
Jeremiah enjoyed building things again. He worked with Kellen and Grant, and they had a woodworking business making cabinets and furniture and whatnot. It made him happy. Happier than working as the mayor.
Jeremiah captured my attention by brushing against me since his hands were full of almost toddlers. “Come here, I want to show you something.”
We slipped away from the prying eyes of the press and the people, behind some trees and near the small stream that ran down from the mountains. Somehow, Jeremiah had found a private little alcove, a piece of Heaven.
“This is beautiful,” I said, walking over to the stream. “Look at this, Char.”
I turned the baby so she could see the stream, her little eyes taking it all in.
“That’s not what I wanted to show you,” Jeremiah said from behind me.
“Then what—” I turned around.
Amelia and Grace each held piece of paper in their tiny little hands. The two combined spelled out, “Will you marry our daddy?”
My heart nearly exploded in my chest. Jeremiah and I had talked about marriage someday. Life had just been so crazy that it kept getting put off.
He held up a box .
“Are you— Really?” I felt like a teenage girl. My knees went weak and I felt like this had to be a dream.
“Of course, Elle,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman, inside and out. You accomplish everything you set your mind to, and I’m so proud of you. We have a beautiful family, and even though we technically live like husband and wife, I thought it was high time we made it official. So what do you say? Will you marry me?”
Tears filled my eyes, and I rushed over to him. I stopped as he opened the ring box. My mother’s engagement ring. He’d gotten permission from my mother, and she’d given him the ring my father had given to her. The ring that had been on her hand for as long as I can remember.
If I hadn’t been crying before, I was now. Full on sobs, but they were tears of happiness. Complete and utter joy.
Jeremiah slipped the ring on my shaky finger. “So is that a yes?”
All this excitement, and I had forgotten to answer him. “Of course,” I said, sniffling as I saw the diamond glistening on my hand. “I mean, yes. Of course I’ll marry you.”
We hugged as best we could with three babies, and Amelia and Grace even got into the act. They might not understand the meaning behind it yet, but they could sense our excitement. Grace tried to eat the paper with the engagement on it, which I had to carefully pry it from her hands. But that was life with three kids under the age of two.
It was wild and crazy sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The End
Knocked Up by Daddy’s Best Friend (Preview)
Becca
"Janey? Janey? Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I can hear ya," her crackling voice called through the car's speakers. "Where are you?"
"I'm driving home. Be back in Boston in about half an hour."
"Hurry up! It's been forever since I've seen you."
"I know. I've missed you, bitch."
"Bitch, I missed you too!"
Up ahead, the traffic was gridlocked, and I braked to a halt watching the red lights of the cars in front glow through the rain. It was nearly Thanksgiving and the northeastern weather was dreary. Soon the snow would be falling, and Christmas lights would be going up.
"I can't believe you're moving back," Janey said.
I could hear her chewing and the sound was bugging me, but she was always nibbling on something. "Me neither, but I really think it's for the best, you know."
"Are you sure? I thought you had all those fancy plans of making it big as a personal trainer and building your own gym in New York."
"Yeah, well, that's not exactly a reality now, is it? I mean how am I supposed to do that? I just graduated from college and have no proper real-world experience. The gym will come. It's just not the right time."
"You think you'll get a personal trainer job when you're back in Boston?"
"That's the plan."
"You'll get one no problem. "
“God I hope so.”
"Where do you reckon you'll go?" she asked with a crunch.
“I’m not really sure.”
There were plenty of gyms near where I grew up that would be happy to hire someone as ambitious and hard working as me, but there was only one place I wanted to be.
"I wanna work for Matthew," I announced.
"Matthew? As in your dad's best friend?"
"Obviously. How many Matthews do I know that own a chain of nationwide gyms?"
We both giggled and I knew we were both thinking the same thing; working for Matthew was every girl's fantasy.
"Oh, my God, Becca, he's soooo hot," Janey cooed. At last, she'd stopped eating. "I saw his latest commercial on TV last night and... Jesus Christ, he's got buns that could crack walnuts. Don't let Harry know I said that, though."
Harry was her boyfriend, the love of her life, her knight in shining armor. They'd been together since they were seventeen and were still hopelessly in love. It made me want to puke seeing the two of them whisper sweet nothings into each other's ears and kiss like they'd just met. They were so sweet and sickly, just watching them put me at risk of getting diabetes.
In all the years she'd been with him, she'd never so much as looked at another guy, let alone commented on how hot they were. But that was the power Matthew had over women. He could make anyone fall for him.
Built like a Greek god with piercing blue eyes and bronzed skin, he towered over most people at six foot six and made any female he met melt. I'd had my eyes on him since I was a little girl, and my innocent admiration had turned into something more passionate, more forbidden, as I grew older.
Matthew was off limits to me for many reasons, and it wasn't just because he was my dad's best friend. He was also twenty years older than me and married. Until recently.
Six months ago he'd suffered through a very messy, very public divorce from his bitch of an ex-wife, Olivia, who was stupid enough to have an affair. It defied belief. How could anyone cheat on Matthew Banks, the hottest man alive?
From the tidbits of gossip I got from my dad, the affair had been going on for years, and of all the people she had to blow her marriage vows on, it had to be her accountant, Simon Grenville, a sniveling dweeb about a quarter of Matthew's size.
Olivia was a cold woman, and no one believed she was in love with the guy. She had to want something from him. Something that was worth losing Matthew for. It was soon revealed Simon came from a long line of Grenvilles who oozed old money charm and had fingers in every political pie in the country and access to all the finery and elegance Olivia desired: memberships at prestigious country clubs and vast estates of ancient properties that sprawled the Massachusetts landscapes, to name a couple.
Simon had relatives that reached the higher echelons of the political stratosphere. Soon it became evident that with Matthew, Olivia could be rich and glamorous, but with Simon, she was one step closer to being First Lady.
Still, I couldn't understand how she could have ruined what she had with Matthew. It just didn't compute in my head that she had been lucky enough to marry him and choose someone else instead.
She's insane, I decided. There can be no other reason.
"You're right," I said to Jane. "He makes Brad Pitt look like a homeless bum."
"Brad Pitt?" she laughed. "What is it with you talking about old dudes?""
"What can I say? I appreciate a mature gentleman."
Up ahead, the traffic finally began to move. Stepping on the accelerator, I willed the journey to end as soon as possible. It had been an arduous day, starting off at six am to pack the last of my belongings before saying goodbye to New York, the city that had been my home for four years and the place I thought was my future.
But what did my future hold now? I had no idea. All I knew was that after all this time being independent, I was moving back in with my dad.
"So you wanna hang out tonight?" she asked.
"I dunno. I want to but I'm exhausted."
"No worries, we can get together tomorrow. We need to catch up, have some proper girly time together."
"Definitely."
"I can't wait! It's been so long since we’ve lived in the same town. It'll be just like back in the good old days. Just you and me, thick as thieves."
"And Harry," I trilled. It came out sounding more sarcastic than I meant and I worked to soften my tone. "I mean, I love Harry," I continued. "Couldn't imagine you without him."
"Me either," Jane swooned. "I feel so blessed having him. Like we were just meant to be together, like fate or some shit. We're actual soul mates."
Here we go again with the schmaltz.
"Yeah, you're a lucky girl," I said, changing lanes as I moved into the fast-flowing traffic of the highway. "So when do you think he'll propose?"
"Who knows. I've been dropping hints for months! Sometimes I don't think we'll ever get married."
"Don't stress about it. It's just a piece of paper."
"Just a piece of paper! Wow, you're such a romantic."
I laughed and accelerated along the outside lane, eager to reach home as quickly as possible. All I wanted was to crash on the couch with Dad. Job applications and unpacking could be worried about in the morning.
"Anyway," she said, chewing again. "I gotta go. Harry will be home soon and I gotta put dinner on."
"You're such a dutiful little wifey," I laughed. "He better appreciate all you do for him."
"Oh, he knows how to say thank you once dessert's been served and..."
"Alright, spare the details. I'll call you in the morning."
"You better. Love ya!"
"Love ya, too."
I reached over to switch off the hands free. The car was plunged into silence with only the sound of the wet asphalt beneath us as the tires drove through the rain.
Just ten more minutes and I'll be home, I thought to myself as I yawned.
As I drove, I thought of Matthew again. What were the chances of getting to work for him? Minimal probably, but I could always dream. And I'd always dreamed about him. He was my first crush, the first guy I'd ever met who gave me that creamy tingling sensation between my legs.
I'd never forget the time in high school when our basketball coach broke his leg a month before the championship. Suddenly we went from being a team with a chance of winning it big time to being a team that would have to forfeit everything. Without a coach, we were nothing.
But Matthew decided to step in. He knew all about the practices my dad used to drive me to and how hard I'd worked. So when it looked as though our team wouldn’t be able to compete, he decided the only way to save the day was to step in and coach us himself.
We'd all been standing outside the girls' locker room commiserating on the fate of the team when he appeared at the end of the hall with the assistant coach we loved but who didn’t really know anything about basketball. Carrying a sack of basketballs, Matthew arrived like a guardian angel in tight fitting shorts and a tank top that showed off hi
s bulging muscles.
For a second, all the girls just stared, shocked into silence, then one by one they began to blush and giggle. But I'd kept my cool and just nodded to him, trying to look as nonchalant as possible even though my insides were melting.
"Sup?" I'd said as he approached me. "So my old man told you about the team."
"He told me everything. Thought I'd get you to the championship myself."
All the girls on the team were staring at me with their eyes like saucers. I knew what they were all thinking. How the hell does she know him? I pretended it was no big deal.
He fit into the slot of coach easily, and for the first time in the team's history, every single player turned up to every single practice session, and they were even early. In fact, practice began earlier and earlier every day as people practically sprinted from their last class to get to Matthew's sessions.
And something else unusual started to happen. The girls' moms started to tag along just to watch. They'd stand up on the bleachers pretending they were there to support their little girls. But we all knew they just wanted to see Matthew running around getting all sweaty. And who could blame them?
On the day of the championship game, the place was packed. You would have thought LeBron James himself was playing. But as I dribbled down the court, I became aware that no one was watching me because all eyes were on Matthew.
We'd sailed through the final and become state champions. After bringing us to victory, Matthew left his post as substitute and a few months later, our old coach, who had the charm, looks, and personality of a potato in comparison, returned. Half the girls quit the team, and the school hadn’t won the state championship again.
But for me, the real joy didn't come from winning, although I had loved seeing my hard work pay off. It had come from going home and dreaming of him, of thinking of all the multiple ways we could become even closer. I used to make excuses to not shower at school so I could go home and run the hottest bath to have even hotter dreams. As the steam rose in the room, I'd sink my fingers between my legs and imagine Matthew's strong body.
