by Tabatha Kiss
I start the quick drive home. A few dog walkers in my neighborhood stop to wave at the familiar vehicle as I pass by and I honk back, spreading the joy a little further.
It’s not always like this, of course. After all, Valentine’s Day has always been a really horrible time for me and Jovie. Even after the vows were said and rings were exchanged, we still managed to find reasons to make the season of love a period of frustration each year. I’d try and find a way to get ahead of it, as usual, and Jovie would do her best not to let it get to her and, as usual, we’d fail miserably and spend the holiday glaring at each other until the sensual urges overtook us and make-up sex would come to the rescue.
But I think we finally found a way to permanently bury that Valentine’s stigma once and for all.
This year, our baby girl was born on February 14th.
It wasn’t planned that way. She wasn’t due until early March but life always finds a way to drop a little coincidence on you now and then. Jovie probably would have preferred it if life picked a more convenient moment than right in the middle of the annual dance to break her water in front of the whole town. I’ve already had Tucker spread the word that the details of that janitorial disaster are never to be mentioned by anyone ever again.
I park in my spot in the driveway next to a black truck that wasn’t there when I left. As I step into the house, I move with soft, careful steps, making sure I don’t make too much noise.
I tiptoe into the hall, headed for the kitchen, when I see my father-in-law quietly stepping out of the baby’s room.
“Hey, Will,” he says, sliding the door closed behind him.
“Hank.” I nod. “Didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He points over his shoulder. “The folks at the plant put together a gift basket for you guys. Just swung by to drop it off before heading in.”
I continue into the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter. “Great. Thanks.”
He lingers in the doorway. “How you doing?”
“Uh…” I exhale at the mess of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. “Tired.”
“Oh, get used to that.” He chuckles. “That doesn’t go away.”
“Any advice?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he smirks, “don’t take advice from me and you should be all right.”
I laugh. “Sounds good.”
He turns to leave. “Anyway, I’m gonna take off.”
“Dinner this week?” I call after him. “We’re having a family thing on Saturday; give everybody a chance to gush over the baby. You should join us.”
“Sure.” He nods. “Just let me know a time.”
“Will do.”
“Bye.”
“Hey, Hank…” He turns back to me again. “So, what do you think?”
He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out again. “She’s gorgeous,” he says.
I smile. “Yeah, she is.”
“Take care of her.”
“I will.”
“Both of ‘em.”
I nod as he walks off, letting the thought sink in for several moments as the front door opens and closes behind him.
There hasn’t been a second since Jovie went into labor when I haven’t felt a blinding terror rattling my insides. Luckily, it hasn’t killed me yet. Hopefully, it never will.
Strangely, I love every moment of it.
I rush to stock the perishables away and abandon the rest to head into the baby’s room. As I enter the hallway, my eyes glide to the left wall out of habit. Postcards hang on a photo line, starting with one showing off an all-too-familiar road sign.
Clover, Kansas.
The Forgotten Paradise.
My eyes flick from one to the next. From Clover to St. Louis. To Chicago. To Cleveland and Nashville. Atlanta and Orlando. San Diego. Seattle. Denver. Salt Lake City.
Over two dozen cities representing memories I can never touch but I don’t mean that in self-pity or anger. Far from it, in fact. Rediscovering Jovie as she slowly revealed bits of her journey to me over the last several years has made me love her even more, a fête I once thought impossible.
The details of that journey…
Well, that’s no one’s business but ours.
I reach the final postcard with a smile on my face.
Clover, Kansas.
Jovie looks up from the rocking chair as I peek into the room. Her arms are full with the tiniest human being I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart skips as she struggles to keep the swaddled lump balanced in her inexperienced hands. She manages it fine in the end. Baby steps. Literally.
“Did you see Dad?” she asks, exhaling the panic from her lungs.
“Yeah,” I say, keeping two protective eyes on my daughter. “Did he wake her?”
“No.” She scoffs. “You weren’t gone two minutes before she started screaming again. You may have missed the first tantrum.”
“I’m sure she’ll throw another one at some point.”
“Not hers,” she jokes. “Mine.”
I kneel beside the rocking chair. “I don’t think the baby calendar has a sticker for Mommy’s first tantrum.”
“Well, it should.”
“She seems to have calmed down, though.”
“For now.”
“What’d he bring?” I ask, glancing at the gift basket in the corner.
“He said, and I quote, ‘baby junk.’” She chuckles. “So, I can only assume a few onesies, maybe some pacifiers and stuff.”
“Good.” I nod. “Can never have too many of those.”
She smiles at me. “Have I mentioned how grateful I am that you’ve kinda sorta already done this before?”
“Only every day since the strip turned pink.” I lean in to kiss her forehead. “But no amount of babysitting Andy prepared me for the breast pump.”
“Prepared you?”
I smirk. “Sounds like Mommy’s second tantrum is well on its way.”
She glares at me. “Ha, ha, ha.”
“There’s that beautiful laugh again.”
“Don’t think that I won’t kick your ass just because I have a six-pound baby in my arms.”
“Oh, I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Damn right.”
I kiss her cheek as I stand up. “Want me to take over for a while?”
“Yes, please.” She shifts forward, slowly extending her arms. “I am so hungry. Did you get my Pop Tarts?”
“In the bag on the counter.”
“Thank you.”
I take the baby from her nervous hands, keeping mine as steady as possible as I lower into the rocking chair.
Jovie waits until I’m settled in before leaning down to kiss me. “You good?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“You sure?”
My eyes lock on my daughter’s tiny face. “Positive.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
I hear her leave but I don’t take my attention away from the bundle in my arms.
“We’ll be here,” I murmur.
I slide my thumb down her arm to rest next to one of her hands as it sticks out of her green, dinosaur-covered blanket. How is it even possible to be this small? Never in my life have I felt so huge and so fragile at the same time. So strong yet so weak.
I thought I’d already fallen in love for the last time.
Her eyes open slightly, revealing the brownish hue of her irises. She catches sight of me with a blank stare that’s just so utterly Jovie it’s mind-boggling. Just a few days old and she’s already the spitting image of her mother, inside and out.
“Hey, Joanne,” I whisper.
She blinks once. Her gaze shifts from tired annoyance as she recognizes me or, at least, I think she does. It’s impossible to know anything about her yet. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I don’t know what she’ll look like a month from now or six months from now or even six years.
Who is this person in my arms and who wil
l she become if I look away for too long? What will she do with her life? Where will she go?
I have no idea.
But I can’t wait to find out.
***
“Where is she?”
I barely get the front door open before my mother and sister barge inside. “In the nursery with Jovie,” I say after them as they rush into the hallway.
My father follows behind them, silently shaking his head, along with my brother-in-law, Charlie. They both give me that new father pat on the shoulder as they pass, welcoming me to the fold.
“Hey, Uncle Will,” Andy says, looking up from the end of the line.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, messing up his hair, as I always do.
He reaches up and fixes it himself as he walks in. Seven years old and already too cool for bad hair.
“Oh, she’s so precious!”
“Look at that face!”
“And the little hands!”
I close the door with a sigh but something blocks it before it latches.
“Whoa, hey!” Tucker says, slipping in. “Favorite uncle, coming through!”
I roll my eyes. “Hey, Tuck.”
We follow the voices through my house to the nursery. Mom and Sara stand on either side of the bassinet with Jovie. The men stand to the side with Hank, letting the ladies get the high-pitched squeals out of their system.
Jovie slides back, looking about as nervous as any new mom would as a swarm invades her child’s space. I move to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I kiss her head and she relaxes.
Tucker charges over and stares at the baby. “Hey, check it out,” he says. “She has my eyes.”
I tap his arm. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Well, they ain’t yours.”
“They’re obviously Jovie’s.”
“Right.” He nods. “And Jovie and I have the same eyes. Therefore, the kid has my eyes.”
I glare at him. “Get away from my daughter.”
He holds up his hands and takes a step back. “Fine. Whatever. Live in denial.”
My mother instantly takes his spot. “Can I hold her?”
I step forward, feeling that protective chain tug at me. “Yeah, that’s fine—”
“I call dibs after Mom!” Sara says in my other ear.
“Well…” My father says. “Shouldn’t the grandparents go first?”
Hank leans back, looking smug. “I already held her.”
“Then, I definitely get to go next.”
I sigh. “I’ll let you guys decide that one. Just, please, be careful.”
Mom nudges me away from the crib. “Will, we know how to hold a baby. Sara had one. I had two.”
“Yeah, but this one is mine,” I say as she leans down to pick up Joanne, “and I’d rather she cut a few teeth first before we start actively screwing her up.”
“Oh, honey,” she teases. “With this village raising this child, there’s no way to avoid that.”
The baby fidgets in her unfamiliar arms but my mother’s experience shines through. Joanne settles quickly, her eyes opening wider to get a better look at her grandmother.
Sara gently shoves at me with her elbow. “She’s so beautiful.”
Tucker nods. “It’s the eyes.”
I glare at him again.
“I think it’s that wittle nose.” My mother pokes once at it.
“And that hair!” Sara adds. “So much hair.”
“What do you think, Jovie?” Mom glances around. “Where’s Jovie?”
I turn and scan the room, eyes locking on every face but hers. A quick chill prickles my spine.
“Jovie?”
There’s no answer.
I clear my throat. “Probably just in the bathroom or something,” I say. “I’ll check.”
“We’ll be here,” my mother says, her voice disguised with a funny accent. She grins into my daughter’s face. “Don’t you worry about us, Daddy!”
I leave the nursery and head toward the bedroom. Laughter and voices drift off behind me and I hope for some other noise to take their place but nothing does.
“Jovie?” I ask the dark room.
I poke my head into the bathroom, then the kitchen and the laundry room.
No Jovie.
That old panic rises in me as I take wider strides toward the garage, the last possible place she could be — assuming she didn’t disappear into the night.
“Jo—”
I pause, seeing her brown hair blowing softly in the wind outside. She’s sitting on the Bolt in the driveway, her face illuminated by nothing more than the orange lamp on the outer wall.
“Jovie?”
She looks over her shoulder at me, quickly reaching up to wipe the tears off her face. “Hey,” she says.
I step out to join her, treading lightly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She sniffs. “Just hormones and all that crap. Got a little overwhelming.”
“It’s okay. You deserve a break. She’s surrounded by parents right now. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Surrounded by parents… and Tucker,” she says.
“Oh, in that case, we better get back in there.”
“Maybe.” She laughs and wipes her nose.
I take a breath of fresh air, my eyes lingering on her face. Smiling or crying. Laughing or screaming. It doesn’t matter what she’s thinking or feeling. She always manages to make me see something new and beautiful about her.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I ask.
She smiles at me. “No.”
I move in closer to the bike and she instantly shifts forward to make room for me. I sit down behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her against me as she lays her head back onto my shoulder. I keep my grip loose on her. Jovie might be made of cold, hard steel but she’s still human. She’s still recovering from giving birth and all the sacrifices that came with it. It’s my job to help her do that.
We sit still, silently gazing up into the dark sky. A few stars shine through but it’s a cloudy February night for the most part. At least it’s warm.
She lets out a soft chuckle. “I’ve been out here two minutes and I already miss her.”
I kiss her wet cheek. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“How is that even possible?”
“I feel like we’ve been asking ourselves that question a lot this week.”
“No kidding.” She twists around to me, her eyes full of awe. “I’m a mother.”
I nod. “You are.”
“Wow.”
“You’re just now realizing this?”
“No.” She chuckles. “It’s just… I spent my life as one thing. Suddenly, I’m something new. Something I was never really sure I wanted to be but now I can’t fathom who I’d be otherwise.”
I squint. “Hmm…”
“What?”
“Well…” I look her up and down. “You’re a college graduate, you’re well-employed, and you’re a wonderful mother.”
She leans in. “I pay taxes, too.”
I laugh and kiss her neck through her hair. “You’re like a genuine, responsible adult now.”
“For now,” she teases. “We’ll see how the next tantrum plays out.”
“Is there anything about you that hasn’t changed?”
“You tell me.”
I smirk and stare into her eyes. The tears are gone now but her damp eyelashes still shimmer beneath the dim street lights. “I can think of one thing,” I say. “Something you’ve always had and always will have. No matter what.”
“And what’s that?”
I kiss the edge of her mouth. “Me.”
She smiles. “Smooth.”
“We still have our helmets, too,” I say, gesturing to the Bolt beneath us. “Say the word and we’ll take a midnight ride. Whenever you want. Just you and me.”
Her eyes swell up again. “I’d like that.”
She rests her head back on my shoulder
. I lay one hand over her heart to feel it thump against my fingertips as she stares up into the night sky.
“I love you, Jovie,” I whisper in her ear.
Her warm hand settles on mine. “I love you, Will.”
We kiss once more. Just one kiss exchanged from an infinite bounty.
My Jovie. Our future.
For better or worse.
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NOVELS BY TABATHA KISS
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THE SNAKE EYES SERIES
Stand-alone romance. Interconnecting stories.
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Bodyguard
The Hitman’s Dancer
Love and Wargames
Bloodlines
Hard Bounty
No Fury
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Lumberjack BOSS
Old Habits
Tabatha Kiss lives in Chicago, Illinois. You can probably catch her huddled up in a hoodie, reading a good romance beneath a tree in Jackson Park with her trusty husky by her side. She enjoys roller derby, sushi, and is always searching for her forever bad boy. In the meantime, she writes.
