by Ember Flint
When our men came back they smelled like whiskey, Sterling’s jacket was ripped, Charles’s shirt was missing a few buttons and the screen of Aston’s phone was cracked, but it seemed there were no hard feelings on display anymore even though from time to time during dinner I would still catch my brother shake his head and sigh, surreptitiously scowling at Sterling.
I asked Sterling what was that all about, but he just grumbled about a man-to-man talk and said everything was okay.
Ugh, men…
My parents didn’t give us too many problems, fortunately: they took the news of our relationship better than I would have expected: even though they had their qualms about the huge age difference between us, they know Sterling and they have always held him in affection and considered him another son, just like they do Aston.
They were a bit wary, but happy for us.
I’ve never done anything crazy in my life and they said I was mature enough to know what I wanted and what was right and so they trusted my judgement.
That is not to say they were enthusiastic about all the secrecy and they were certainly not fans of our small Vegas wedding, but our promise of a big ceremony to celebrate with family and friends stopped their grumbling, especially when we assured them it would be sooner rather than later.
First, however, we are going to have a nice, month-long honeymoon here in England.
Aston gave us free rein on his family estate in Derbyshire and I can’t wait to go: the place is beautiful and I haven’t been there since I was a child.
Breaking the news to his family was far more unpleasant.
As soon as we reached London, we went to see them. I thought it would be best to wait a little because Sterling was horribly jet-lagged, but he said he wanted it over with so we could really start to just be together and think about our life without having to worry about anyone else and so into the fray we went and oh boy.
Dolan, his dad, was the only one happy there and immediately started to talk about grandbabies, his wife however was overtly very meh about it and privately nasty to Sterling. The Pest was not much interest in what we had to share and left the room as soon as we finished speaking.
Sterling’s paternal aunts, Penelope and Lenora, or The Terrible Duo as my husband calls them, were the coup de grâce, so to speak.
Sterling had mentioned in passing during our flight that they might not be too happy about our marriage, but even he was surprised by how furious they were.
There was not a thing they liked.
We had gone about it too fast.
We had not done it in England.
A Las Vegas wedding was a most horrid and cheap affair.
And last, but not least, I was an American for heaven’s sake, a social climber, a nouveau riche —oh, the horror!
I think Sterling’s shock was the only reason why they managed to speak as long as they did against us.
As soon as he got over it, he bellowed for them to shut up and they flinched back.
He told them he didn’t give a “bloody fuck” about their opinions and never would and to start act like they “bloody loved me” and respected me or they would have to find themselves another CFO, maybe Nigel would be a valid candidate or Lydia, his stepmother.
He was fearsome to behold while he defended me and they sure changed their tune after that: they were so horrified at the prospect that they actually apologized to me —insincerely, of course— then they offered perfunctory congratulations and beat a hasty retreat.
I have never seen Sterling so pissed off before and I felt really bad about the whole thing.
I was worried I was going to cost him his position in the company, but he assured me that he would brook no opposition to our union, no matter the cost.
He told me very seriously that even if he had to step down as CFO and VP, he would be just as happy being at the helm of his own companies and business interests although smaller if it meant he got to have me in his life.
He was so upset by the time we left, his big body was shaking all over.
He was so exhausted not only from the airsickness and the jet lag, but also from the strain of the unpleasantness of the discussion with his family on top of those, that as soon as we got back, he flipped face down on the bed and he’s been passed out ever since.
I put the cup aside and I sit on the edge of the bed where my husband still sleeps.
I feel my heart squeeze for him, he really suffers terribly after being on planes, especially after an overseas flight.
I caress his face lovingly and smile down at him.
I might not be able to cure the lasting effects of his nasty jet lag, but maybe I can make him smile.
I have a surprise for him.
I climb on the bed and tickle his lower back and sides until with a grunt and a moan of discomfort he turns on his back and then I straddle him.
He moans again, shutting his eyes tight.
My poor love!
I caress his face and chest, playing with the hair there.
I shake my wayward curls away, keeping them off my face and I bend down to kiss his lips.
I feel his arms automatically come up and around me and I smile.
I settle on his chest and nibble on his jaw and neck until he slowly wakes up.
“Cora,” he mumbles roughly, kissing the top of my head.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
He heaves a shaky sigh. “Like shit. Sorry love: I’m horrible company when jet-lagged.”
I pull back a little to kiss him again. “I made you breakfast and some tea, maybe if you put something in your stomach…”
He slowly shakes his head no and then moans, the slight motion making things worse for him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it down, sweetheart, but thanks.”
My heart clenches at his desolation.
“I have something to tell you, love. It won’t make you feel any better, but hopefully it’ll cheer you up a little?”
He tightens his hold on me, forcing a smile. “Let’s hear it then, little bombshell.”
I gulp down air, suddenly feeling very nervous. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, love…”
In a second Sterling’s entire countenance brightens and he gives me a real smile, his green eyes going from dull and glassy to intense and shining.
He turns us slowly on our sides and wraps himself completely around me, kissing me, both of us with tears in our eyes.
“Oh Cora, I didn’t think it could be possible, but you just made me an even happier man. A baby! We’re really having a baby! I promise I’m going to be the best husband and the best father I can and then some.”
I smile into his lips. “I’m sure you will be. We’re going to be so happy, love, I promise I’ll take care of you always and no jet lag will ever bring you down from our cloud for too long.”
We both laugh at that and we kiss, until the movement makes him dizzy again and he pulls back with a groan.
“Oh, darling!” I frown down at him, caressing his cheek. “I’m so sorry you feel so crappy.”
Sterling gives me a weak smile. “Actually I’ve had it worse. Having you with me, makes this so much bearable, bombshell. You’re the best painkiller yet.”
Epilogue
STERLING
Two and a half years later…
"Oh no, you little rascal, not these!”
I barely save my sunglasses and put them back on as I watch my nephew Benjamin, run away giggling with my flip-flops and sink them into the water, making them follow the same fate of all the footwear of the adults present.
I exhale slowly and lean back in my warm, cherry-wood, padded deckchair, my legs extended in front of me, my face tilted into the sun, while the hot, Caribbean breeze tingles on my skin.
Charles and Aston are lounging beside me and our wives are sitting on the edge of the pool, drinking chilled sparkling juice, their legs swinging back and forth, barely breaking the surface of the crystal-blue, salty w
ater.
They are chattering away softly so as not to wake the youngest member of our party, Aston and Lara’s four-month-old daughter Lacy, currently sleeping on the lawn beside my nine-month-old daughter Jane under the shade of a group of strategically placed, big umbrellas to protect them from Kingston’s still-too-hot, late afternoon sun.
Cora and I now live for most of the time in New York City —she managed to cure me of my dislike for the Big, poisonous Apple.
How could I hate the place when it’s there I found my greatest happiness?
I manage my business in London remotely and deal with Fitzroy Inc.’s main concerns from our Los Angeles’ headquarters.
We still have to travel to London quite often though: every three months or so, but we only stay there for a couple of weeks —that’s the limit of my endurance when it comes to having to deal with my batty family.
Things will settle down even more for us as we are currently opening another branch of the company in New York City —the new building is being fitted as we speak— so at least I won’t have to back and forth from Los Angeles every couple of weeks like I do now.
We are being absolutely lazy right now and we plan to do nothing but stay poolside and relax, watching our children play for at least one more month. We have all been very busy with our companies and lives in general lately and we totally needed a break so we decided to rent this huge mansion and enjoy some downtime.
The almost four-hour-long flight aboard Aston’s plane and the usual mind-numbing, bloody insupportable jet lag I would have gladly avoided of course, but all in all it’s a small price to pay to be able to enjoy this little slice of summer in the middle of the snowy winters we were experiencing in both London and New York City.
Also, we were all thinking it was going to be much more complicated traveling with two toddlers, two babies and a pregnant woman, but in the end the stress was more than manageable.
All the children did wonderfully during the flight, poor things they are more often than not on a plane because of the international nature of the roles their daddies play in their companies, but we could not have it any other way: I would go out of my bloody fucking mind if I could not see my wife and daughters every day and my best friends are no different.
Fortunately, neither baby Jane, nor my older daughter, Mara —who is just shy of being two— seem to have inherited my predisposition to feel like shit warmed over while flying and afterwards, so at least I was the only one sick and miserable on that jet and for the next few days.
Not even my beloved Cora had any issues: we are six months pregnant and I was a tad reluctant about having her flying again, but my little bombshell is still as determined as ever and after her ob-gyn reassured us it was safe, she got her way and so here we are.
“Guys, we should make this a yearly tradition, this place is awesome,” Charles ventures in a yawn, looking at us from behind his half-lowered shades.
Aston pries his intent gaze from his wife, Lara, and turns to look at my brother-in-law. “Absolutely, Chuck, I’m thinking I should make some inquiries, see if the owner wants to sell.”
I laugh. “You’re too late, mate: I already made an offer myself so piss off.”
Aston shrugs and reclines further into his chair. “Bloody wanker… I should have known,” he mutters, but he’s not really as miffed as he wants to sound.
We all chuckle.
In the end it doesn’t matter who buys the place: we are family.
I hear movement on my side and see Benjamin approaching again.
The little fellow is not even eighteen-month-old and is already as mischievous as his aunt. He’s currently heading for his almost dozing-off father, carrying a green and blue bucket full of water in his chubby, small hands, his eyes —as blue as Charles’s— are set and I can see a determined frown on his little face.
I let go of an airless chuckle, my eyes meeting those of a smiling Aston over the head of the still-unaware target.
The little boy grins at Uncle Aston and then at me and we both nod as he drops the entire content of the bucket on his dad’s stomach.
“Benjamin!”
Reflexively, Charles bolts from his lounger muttering a ‘fuuuck’ that turns into a ‘fuuudge’ when his wife, Jess, glares at him.
I chuck my nephew on the chin. “Good job, sport, now it’s Uncle Aston’s turn.”
Ben nods solemnly and toddles back toward his mom, still sitting on the edge of the pool, while Aston covertly flicks me the V.
I tap his shoulder. “Don’t be a bear, Stony. Pretend to be asleep and stay still: you wouldn’t want to disappoint the child.”
He sighs and lowers his baseball hat down his head of dark curls over his eyes.
Benjamin gets sidetracked though, stops filling his little bucket and picks up one of my daughter’s biggest ponies.
I smile to myself, Mara won’t be too happy when she sees this.
I shake my head and turn to look at the sleeping little girls, but then frown and sit up when I no longer can spot my oldest. She was sitting near her sister, quietly playing with her other ponies.
I’m already standing up when I see my little girl running at full speed across the lawn, naked as the day she was born, my wife calmly waddling behind her with a swim diaper in her hand. “Mara, come back here right this second!”
I grin at my daughter as she dodges her mother and scampers in the grass, waking both of the sleeping babies in the process, their tiny fists flailing up in the air.
“I’ve got this,” Aston immediately stands up to go check on the baby girls.
I watch as he kneels near them, under the parasols, giving Jane back her pacifier and making a funny face at her, all the while picking up his own baby girl gingerly in his big arms with all the hesitation of a still-new father, he fixes her little cap and then puts her back down making faces at both babies, while covering their tiny arms with sunscreen lotion.
I see Ben going after the ponies again, but Aston picks Lacy up and walks to him, saving Applejack and Rainbow Dash —yes, I know those stupid flowery ponies’ names by heart and my little girl quizzes me every chance she gets on them— from the pool and giving the little boy a toy car to play with before joining Lara poolside.
Mara reaches me and climbs on my lap. “Daddy! Daddy! Benny is a meanie: he threw Princess Celestia in the pool!”
I look over her head of strawberry, bouncy curls —identical to her mother’s— and sure enough, I spot little Benjamin again dunking one pony after the other in the pool, while Aston is busy passing my little daughter to her mom.
“Don’t worry, baby girl: Uncle Charles is going to fish them out for you. Aren’t you?”
My brother-in-law glowers at me, but stands up anyway with a sigh.
He kisses my little girl’s head. “Of course, Baby Munchkin,” he assures her winking at her and trudges toward the pool, getting a full-blown smile in response.
I smile at Mara, ruffling her curls. “I believe there is something missing here, little princess. I pinch her little chubby bottom and she giggles as she buries her face on my chest, trying to hide from her mommy, now standing in front of my deckchair, carrying little Jane astride on her hip.
Cora drops the diaper in my lap. “She keeps taking it off.”
I tickle my daughter, making her laugh and roll into a little ball. “Do you now, young lady?
“Will you put it back on, love? Maybe you’ll have a better chance at persuading her to keep it on.”
I fasten the diaper on my daughter and put the little denim, pink cap back on her head. “Can you do something for Daddy, princess? Keep both the diaper and the hat on, okay? We don’t want for Mommy to worry when she has a baby in her tummy, right?”
“Okay Daddy.”
“Good girl,” I smile down at her.
She stares at Cora with large, remorseful eyes just as blue as hers and then nods, standing up on my lap to kiss her mother’s belly.
“Sorry, Mom
my. I will do as Daddy say and keep ‘em on.”
“Don’t worry, baby. Look, Uncle Charlie got Princess Celestia out,” Cora says smiling and we both watch our little girl run toward the pool.
Charles gives her the pony and then pulls his wife into the water, making her squeal and laugh.
Benjamin drops his toy car and waves his little arms, jumping up and down as he stands on the edge waiting for his dad to pick him up.
I point at my other daughter perched on her mommy’s side. “You should not carry her like this, love. She’s too heavy.”
My wife smiles down at me and puts the baby on my chest, kissing her little head, also hidden under a frilly little hat, little wisps of dark blonde hair framing her tiny face.
I cradle Jane in my arms and look up into my wife’s loving gaze.
Damn, she’s practically glowing, she’s fucking beautiful and I love her so much it hurts.
She’s currently driving me to the edge of insanity wearing a too small hot pink bikini top that barely covers her ample breasts and unbuttoned dark denim shorts that hang low on her hips, proudly showing off her curves and the big baby bump.
We don’t know what we are having this time: we decided it would be nice for it to be a surprise.
I slide one arm around her, until she’s sitting over me, straddling my legs and caress her belly.
I fucking love seeing her pregnant and that’s maybe part of the reason why we can’t seem to be able to stop making babies.
I’m still as enchanted with my little sexy bombshell as ever.
I feel something tug at my heart every time my eyes fall on her. I still can’t believe she’s mine. She’s an amazing woman all-around and makes our lives wonderful every day. She’s an incredible mother and takes care of our little girls practically every day and yet she still managed to get her degrees and is doing a terrific job at the Harlington-Spade foundation, especially now that Lucille —my mother-in-law— decided to step down as VP to be a full-time grandmother.
Cora lays her head on my shoulder, our baby daughter cuddled between us. She lets go of a weary sigh, but still has a gentle smile on her full, pouty lips.
