by Frankie Love
I shake my head, unable to speak.
“Let’s go to the drug store right now and get a few,” Sarah says, already starting to get to her feet.
“Wait!” I grab her hand and gently pull her back down. I’m suddenly dizzy with fear and excitement and nausea and what feels like a billion other emotions. “Let’s not get carried away just yet. I want to enjoy these next few days with you. Okay? I’ll get a test after you leave.”
As evidenced by her expression, Sarah doesn’t like this idea. “I don’t know, Jen,” she says. “Aren’t you going to freak out more if you don’t know? And won’t you want to tell Matt right away?”
“We don’t have to tell Matt anything,” I say firmly. “Not until I take the test and know for sure. And I don’t want to take the test until after I’ve had a few fun-filled days with you. I promise I won’t even drink any alcohol, just in case.”
“Won’t Matt find that suspicious?”
I choke out a laugh. “Probably,” I admit. “I’ll just tell him I’m not feeling great and am taking it easy on the gin and tonics.”
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Sarah says. “Sure you wouldn’t feel better with me being here when you take the test?”
I inhale deeply, trying to stay calm.
“That would be nice,” I say, “but I’m confident I don’t want to worry about it right now. Let’s just have fun for a couple days. Okay?”
Sarah smiles. “Okay,” she says. “But it won’t be fun if we just sit in the bathroom the whole time I’m here.”
I laugh and we clamber to our feet, then go back out to the living room. Matt won’t be home for a couple of hours. I feel less nauseous as we continue watching the movie, but my thoughts and feelings threaten to pull me in, like quicksand. A huge part of me still isn’t sure that I’m ready to settle down. Marriage was a big enough deal, but motherhood, too? Am I really prepared for that?
A quiet voice within me whispers, Yes. You could do this. And it would be beautiful because you and Matt made this child together.
I lean my head on Sarah’s shoulder. I’ll think about it more in a few days. For now, I have best friend time to enjoy--and I can’t wait for her to meet Matt.
Chapter Nine
Matt
Spending time with Jenna and her best friend was like babysitting two teenagers. They laughed, they cackled, they fought, and they spouted inside jokes at a mile a minute. They stayed up late into the night--far past when I went to bed--and, one morning, I found them both asleep in the guest room, curled up together like sisters. They have a bond that I admire, but, God, was I exhausted when Sarah finally went home.
“That was fun,” I say to Jenna as we drive back from the airport. “I’m glad your friend came to visit. But I could probably sleep for a full day now.”
She laughs, gazing out the window. Snow falls gently, carried by swift gusts, and I watch her in the mirror as she watches the snowflakes drift. Her profile like this is so elegant and peaceful that it almost takes my breath away.
I already know that I’m in love with Jenna. I realized it weeks ago. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one I haven’t encountered for a long time, but when it appeared, I immediately knew it for what it was. We were cuddled in bed, her head on my chest after an intense session of love-making. I stroked her hair and whispered that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“You think so?” she replied, her eyes lighting up.
“I know so.”
“Well,” she smiled, “I’m definitely the luckiest woman in the world, that’s for sure.”
“Why?” I asked.
She pressed a languorous kiss to my lips. “Because I get to love you.”
With her confession, my own adoration surged to the surface. I held her as tightly as I could, reluctant to ever let her go. “I love you too, Jenna,” I said.
The phrase felt unfamiliar on my tongue, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I meant it. After all, I love the streak of pink in her hair, and the tiny hole in her nose from when she used to have it pierced. I love the way she sings along to the car radio, making up the words when she doesn’t know them. I love the way she always has dinner prepared when I come home from work, even if she burned it. I love the way she makes love to me. I love the way she smiles. I love every single goddamn thing about her.
To know that she loves me too, is a gift that I could never have imagined receiving. On paper, there are a million reasons why we shouldn’t work. I thank the mail-order bride gods every day that someone took a chance on putting us together. I even thanked my mom on a phone call last week, which shocked her.
“You mean it? You think you’ll be married by Christmas?” Joy had asked incredulously.
“We’ll see,” I had responded. My other brothers are getting along well with their mail-order brides too, although I’m unsure if any of them feel as strongly about their potential brides as I do about Jenna. We’re not the type of siblings to spill our emotions to each other.
When Jenna and I get home from the airport, we fall into our usual routine: dinner, hanging out, lovemaking, and then lying together in bed, our limbs entangled. I kiss the tip of her nose, and she wrinkles her face up, making me laugh.
“Hey, Matt?” she says after a few moments.
“What’s up?”
“I just love you a lot. That’s all.”
I hold her closer, kissing the top of her head. “That’s all, huh?”
“Actually,” she says before going quiet. “Never mind.”
I raise a brow. “You sure?”
She smiles gently. “Yes. Goodnight, Matt.”
Within minutes, she’s asleep, leaving me to wonder what else is on her mind.
When I walk in the door after a long day, the house is oddly quiet. “Honey, I’m home!” I call, as always, but only silence greets me. I hang up my jacket with a frown. Jenna will sometimes run errands on the weekends, but on weekdays, she usually has dinner and drinks prepared by the time I come home. It’s very traditional and homey, but I find that I like it, and my curvy girl doesn’t seem to mind either.
I walk into the dining room. It’s strangely silent and the kitchen is empty. Where’s Jenna? I stroll around, peering into the other rooms, but my luscious girlfriend is nowhere to be found.
I’m not prone to unnecessary panic, but fear begins to mount somewhere behind my breastbone. Jenna wanted to say something last night but couldn’t bring herself to actually say it. Was she planning to leave me, and balked at the last moment? No way, I think as I climb the stairs to the second floor with more haste than usual. Things are going so well--unbelievably well. She hasn’t brought up any concerns about me or our relationship, except for the elephant in the room: her band and their continued touring.
Shit, I think as I look into our empty bedroom. Maybe Sarah convinced Jenna that Lolly Popz needs her. Maybe she’s on a plane back to New York right now. Maybe…
I realize with a jolt that the master bathroom door is closed. I rap on it with my knuckles. “Jenna?” I call.
No response.
I’m about to turn around when I hear the unmistakable sound of muffled crying. I whirl back on my heel and knock again, more insistently this time. “Jenna, I hear you in there,” I say, relieved to have found her but worried to hear her crying. “Are you okay?”
The lock clicks. I open the door slowly, steeling myself for what I’m going to see.
It’s just Jenna, my beautiful Jenna, with mascara-laden tears streaming down her face. I follow her gaze to something she’s holding in her hands.
A pregnancy test.
A positive pregnancy test.
I don’t feel anything, for a moment. I think it’s shock, my brain trying desperately to process what my eyes are seeing. Then, I feel everything at once. My heart jumps into my throat and my hands fly out to rest on Jenna’s upper arms.
“Jenna, are you okay?” I ask, my voice strangely choked in my throat. “This
is… this is…”
“This is incredible,” she sobs, and collapses against my chest. Relief floods me as if I just submerged myself underwater. I’m terrified to be a father, and always have been, but, God, am I excited, too. My dad Hank is as solid as a rock, which was necessary in a houseful of six boys. I’ve always wanted to emulate his presence, his gentle influence, and his silly sense of humor. I want to pass on what he taught me, and now I’m going to get the chance.
If Jenna says that this is incredible, then she must be excited, too. But I feel her hot tears still staining the front of my shirt. I stroke her hair for a minute, holding her close, before peeking down at her.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I ask. “Do you need to sit down?”
She nods. I lead her into the bedroom and she sits on the edge of the mattress, leaning forward so that her face is cradled in her hands. I sit beside her, rubbing her back in large, slow circles. My own heart is still pounding, but at this moment, I know that I have to be here for Jenna.
“I’m so scared,” she whispers, finally, lifting her tear-stained face. “I never really thought I’d be a mom. But now I’m so, so happy and excited. I had no idea I’d be so happy.” She sniffles. “But… Oh, my God, what about the band? What about my career?” She starts weeping again, taking in tiny gasping breaths. “What am I going to do?”
My heart aches for her, and I hold her to my chest again, murmuring reassurance against her silky hair. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling. I don’t have to worry about my career, even though I’m going to be a father. Being unexpectedly thrust into this situation must be terrifying. I wish there was something, anything, I could do.
Then, I know exactly what my plan is.
“Hold on one second,” I say suddenly, pulling away from her so that I can stand. I go to my dresser and rummage around the top drawer for the tiny box hidden there. I picked it up about two weeks ago, confident that even if Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to marry me, I knew without a doubt that I wanted to marry her. I thought that life in sleepy Snow Valley would always be the same. But Jenna has introduced so much more light, color, and music into my life, and I never want to be without her again.
“Jenna,” I say after taking a deep breath. “I know this must be terrifying for you. God, I’m terrified, too. But no matter what, I want you to know that we’re in this together.” I drop to one knee in front of her, and Jenna gasps, bringing her hands up to her face. “I never thought I’d fall in love with my mail-order bride. But you’re so much more than that to me now. You’re the best person I’ve ever known, and you’re so worthy of happiness. Let me give that to you. Let me give you anything you want.”
Jenna is crying again, now, but smiling so widely that her face must hurt. I’m smiling, too, grinning like an idiot, like a kid who just won first prize at the science fair. I open the ring box, and Jenna gasps at the glimmering diamond inside.
“We’ll figure your career out, sweetheart,” I continue. “There are ways you can still sing and make music, even while being a mother. We’ll figure it all out together. I’ll support you every step of the way. Marry me, Jenna. Will you?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Oh, my God, Matt. Yes. Let’s be parents together. Let’s take on the world together.” She laughs tearfully. “And let’s save Snow Valley, if your brothers can hurry up and get engaged, too.”
She holds out a trembling hand, and I slip the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. Barely able to contain my joy, I stand and pick her up, spinning her around as we both laugh. Everything seems suddenly lighter and brighter, as if the sun has just come up in this room. I feel a warmth spreading throughout my entire body, and realize that it’s joy like I’ve never before experienced.
“That was a damn good proposal,” Jenna whispers as we stand and hold each other. “When did you turn into such a sap, Mr. Bigshot Attorney?”
I grin and kiss the tip of her nose, and she wrinkles her face up, as always. “When I have something to be sappy about. Now, can we hurry up and go to bed to celebrate?”
She giggles and pulls me down onto the mattress, kissing me so sweetly that I could die a happy man right here, right now.
But thank God I’m alive. Our lives together are just beginning, and I have a feeling we have more than a few adventures ahead of us.
Epilogue
Jenna
Snow Valley may sparkle and shine in the winter, but it’s just as beautiful in the early summer. The air is sweet, the sun is bright, and the trees are huge and leafy. Flowers bloom in earnest, scenting the air with their gorgeous perfume.
Let me be the first to tell you--I don’t miss New York City at all with surroundings like this.
The park we’re strolling in is just five minutes from our house. Matt jokes that he wanted to propose to me here, but all plans went out the window when I started bawling my eyes out that fateful day. “I had to rearrange my plans just to get you to stop crying,” he’ll tease, and I always respond by sticking my tongue out at him. Motherhood, I must confess, has not made me much more mature.
“Mama!” My two-year-old, Joy, looks up at me with huge blue eyes. She has something in her hand. I wince, worrying that she plucked something off the dirty ground, but then she presents it with a flourish, and it’s just a bright yellow flower. “Take!”
“My sweet baby!” I coo. “Is that for me?”
“What, Daddy doesn’t get a flower?” Matt, pushing the stroller, asks in mock horror.
“Take!” Joy stamps her tiny purple shoe on the ground. “Mama!”
I laugh and shrug at Matt. “Sorry,” I tell him as I take the proffered blossom and tuck it behind my ear. “Mama wins again.”
Mama definitely won with the first word; “Daddy” wasn’t even in her lexicon until after “bath” and “puppy.” I brag about this often to Matt. He always, however, is the requested bedtime story teller, although I always get to sing the lullabies.
I was worried about being a mother, but as soon as Joy was born, all my fears disappeared. She was beautiful and perfect from the start, grinning at us with all the enthusiasm of her name. Calling her “Joy” was an easy choice because Matt’s mom is named Joy too. As a result, we’ve started calling Grandma Joy “Joy the First” and she loves it. It was Matt’s mother, after all, who brought us together. She certainly deserves some credit for that.
It was Joy the First, too, who brought all the Mistletoe brothers together with their brides. It was a wild idea from the start, but miraculously, it worked. All of us got married by Christmas, the brothers were able to purchase the town, and sweet Snow Valley was saved.
“Can you believe that you technically own this park?” I ask Matt as we continue our walk. A cute dog and her owner walk by, and Joy screams “Puppy!” with all the gusto of a child who doesn’t yet have one of her own.
Matt shrugs and aims a sideways grin at me. “And all because you decided to marry me.”
“Well, and because all the other ladies agreed to marry your brothers too,” I say. “Although I can never remember everyone’s names. I basically went from being an only child to being a sibling in a family of twelve within six months!”
Matt laughs. “Yeah, it’s a miracle, isn’t it?”
I smile with delight as we exit the park and walk to Moose Tracks, a nearby bar. I’ve been singing here every Tuesday and Friday night, and am working on getting an official band together to back me up. The crowds were modest at first, but they’ve grown with every performance. Kids aren’t technically allowed inside, but sometimes Matt will stand with Joy at the very back, and she’ll wave her little arms in glee watching her mama sing. I’m so grateful that Matt is such a great dad, and that he and Joy get along so beautifully even when I’m not around.
“Hey, Joey!” I call to the bartender as I head inside to pick up my paycheck. It’s early enough so that no one minds if Joy stands on a barstool and requests some apple juice. It’s one of the perks of living in a small
town.
“Hey, Jenna!” he says, waving at Matt and I. “You actually had someone call here asking for you a little bit ago. They didn’t have your number. You might want to give them a call back.”
“Who is it?” I ask, but Joey just shakes his head and grins.
“I wrote down the number and put it on the bulletin board in the back,” he says. “Call ‘em now, okay?”
I head to the back and punch the number into my phone confusedly. Who would call the bar to try to get a hold of me, especially when I’m only here two nights a week?
“Hello?” a male voice on the other end says.
“Um, hi,” I say. “My name is Jenna Cook Mistletoe. I’m calling from Moose Tracks. I heard there was someone looking for me?”
“I sure was,” the man replies, his tone immediately warming up. “My name is Chris Jones. I’m a producer from Greenleaf, just a few towns over. I saw you sing a few nights ago and was blown away.”
“Oh, man,” I stutter, blushing at the compliment. “Thank you so much. That means a lot to me.”
“I was wondering, Jenna, if you’d like to be a guest on WNBX Hearts. We’re a radio show that showcases local talent. If you have any songs recorded, feel free to send those our way, too. We’d love to promote you as much as we can.”
My jaw drops open; I nearly have to push it back up with my hand. “Um,” I say eloquently, and then manage to continue, “Yes! That would be incredible. I would really love that.”
“Well, good,” Chris says. “I’ll give you a call back in a few days and we’ll talk details. Okay?”
“Okay!” I’m smiling so hard that my face hurts. “Great! Thank you so much.”
He hangs up and I run to the front of the bar, where Joy is contentedly sipping her apple juice and Matt is chatting with Joey. They both shoot me knowing looks; Joey must have told him what the mysterious caller was asking about. When I unceremoniously burst into happy tears, Matt crosses to hold me in his arms.
