by Evelyn Sola
This ends now. I make myself known as I clear my throat loudly when I approach the desk. Sherry looks up and smiles.
“Your guest isn’t here yet, Mr. Bain,” she says, her eyes roaming my body.
“She’s here, Sherry,” I say. She looks totally confused, so I turn to Miranda and plant a loud kiss on her lips. The kiss goes on long enough for her to look embarrassed by the time I end it. I’m immediately satisfied when Sherry’s mouth hangs open. “Tell your nephew it’s time he finds someone else, and the Bahamas was great. Miranda and I had a great time. Thanks for asking.” I turn to Miranda. “Ready for lunch, sweets? Hungry?”
“A little bit,” she says, blushing.
“Are you coming, Mona?” I ask.
“Um, no. Someone has to stay here to make sure Sherry doesn’t die of shock.”
That gets a laugh out of everyone but Sherry, who watches us, mouth unhinged until the elevator door closes. As soon as I have Miranda alone, I pin her against the elevator wall. “I’ve missed you.” I try to sniff the side of her neck, but her thick scarf is in the way. “Stupid scarf. I liked it better last week when you were half naked on the beach. I really liked it when you were completely naked in our bed, riding my face.”
“Don’t talk about my scarf. My boyfriend gave it to me for Christmas.” She lifts the ends of the Burberry scarf and holds up her matching gloved hands, then puts them on her head. “Hat and gloves too. He wants to make sure I’m warm at all times.”
“I bet your boyfriend is crazy about you. Probably thinks of no one and nothing but you.”
“Let’s go to your place, and you can feed me this.” She grabs my crotch. “I miss not being able to have this whenever I want.” Images of the five days we spent in paradise flash through my mind. Lying naked on the massive four-poster bed in the master bedroom. Swinging in the hammock as the ocean breeze kissed our skin.
Having her with me all day without the threat of her mother in the background, my girl was as relaxed as I’ve ever seen her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks as we step out of the elevator
“Our time in the Bahamas.” The minute we step outside, the harsh January wind whips around us. “And how I wish we were there right now, back on our favorite hammock. You wrapped around me.”
She stops in the middle of the parking lot and kisses my cheek. She then hooks her arm through mine as we continue the short walk to my car.
“Poor Nicky. Does it matter where we are? Can’t you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“My hips. Doesn’t matter where we are. They still say Nick, Nick, Nick.” She lets go of my arm and starts to walk backward, and despite the long, bulky coat she’s wearing, I can still hear the Siren’s call of her hips. “Nick,” she says, swinging in one direction. “Nick.” She swings in the other. “Nick.” And back again.
By the time she’s done, she’s against the car door and I pin her against it. I grab her hips and bring them to mine. “Nick, Nick, Nick,” I say against her lips as I roll her hips.
“Oh, Nick,” she says against my mouth. “Yes, Nick.” Kiss. “More, Nick.” Kiss. “Deeper, Nick.” She breaks eye contact and looks at my lips. “Your place, Nick.” I bend down and kiss her. Despite the harsh New England winter, the kiss sets my blood on fire. Much too soon, I pull away from her and open the door.
“Can’t go to my place, baby. I have a meeting in a couple of hours, and an hour with you just won’t be enough right now. Besides, there’s something I need to talk to you about, and you know how distracting you are when you’re naked,” I tell her as I start the car.
“Fine.” She sighs. “But since you’re coming over for dinner tonight, that means no nookie until tomorrow.”
“Think about this, sweets. One day soon, my place will be our place and nookie will be available twenty-four seven.” It’s the first time I’ve voiced that thought out loud, but I’ve been thinking about it since our trip. She looks at me, eyebrows raised, and a smile on her lips. “I know. I know. We just celebrated our one-month anniversary, but I’m just looking to the future.” I pick up her hand and kiss it. “You’re my future, but that’s not what I want to talk about today. Let’s get you some food and we’ll talk.”
CHAPTER 38
MIRANDA
“Not as good as yours,” Nick says with a mouth full of guacamole. He dips a chip in it and offers it to me.
“I was thinking about what you said in the car.”
“Oh? You’re ready to move in this weekend?” I laugh and roll my eyes at him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to move into my little basement apartment? The rent’s cheap. Really cheap in that I don’t pay any.”
“As charming as I find it, I have a much bigger place. A place where I don’t have to worry about your parents catching us, but that’s not what I want to discuss. You do know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, right?” I stop breathing and look from my chip into his eyes.
“I want that, too.”
He visibly relaxes and lays a hand on top of mine. “Good. As you know, Uncle Joe is coming back next week, but only on a part-time basis. We got hired to design and build a community of townhomes. We need someone to decorate the model homes and be a project manager.”
“Oh, okay. Sounds good, Nicky.” The waiter comes with our entrees, shrimp tacos for me and steak for him. I pick up one of my shrimps and offer it to him. He takes it, licking my fingers in the process.
“I was thinking after you graduate, you can come work for Bain and decorate the models when needed, and you can also manage some projects. We’re growing and will need someone to handle that, and I thought of you.” It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in. Caught mid-chew, I drop my taco on the plate. It opens up, spilling the contents all over the place.
“Um, you know I only decorate as a hobby, right? My degree is in management, but I have no idea how to manage a construction project. And you can’t possibly want to live together and work together too.”
“We’ll hardly be the first couple in history to do that. And so what if it’s just a hobby? Lots of careers start off as hobbies, and I can teach you the other stuff. Just think about it. And I want to do more than live with you. Miranda Bain has a nice ring to it.” He winks at me, and I smile at the thought.
“I agree. It does,” I say, blushing. “I’ll think about the job.”
“That’s all I ask. And think about this. When we have kids, you’ll have all the flexibility you need, and so will I.”
I swallow just as he says the last part, and I start to cough. He reaches over and taps me on the back, but I can see the playful glint in his eyes.
“Kids?” I reach over with shaking hands and drink my ice-cold water. “Did my mother put you up to this?”
“No, but this is what happens when you fall in love with an old man.” He reaches and takes my hand again. “I want everything with you. I’m not saying we need to have kids tomorrow. I think I can wait a couple of years.”
“You’re full of declarations today, Stinky Nicky. You better put a ring on it.” I lift my left hand and wave it around like Beyoncé.
“I’ve got you, baby. Come back to the office. You haven’t said anything about decorating for Valentine’s Day.”
“Are you serious?” I ask as I look at him.
“As a heart attack. This will be the incentive we need to take down the Christmas decorations.”
“Yes!”
EPILOGUE
NICK
FOUR YEARS LATER
She steps into my office, dressed in a red dress with a wide, black belt around it. The dress reaches her knees and has fur trim at the end. Her legs are bare, as are her feet. I lean in my chair, hands behind my head as I watch her approach. She moves a lot slower these days.
It’s been four years since the best Christmas surprise of my life. Four years of loving, laughing, fighting, and making up
. There hasn’t been a day that we’ve spent apart since we went public with our relationship.
I pull my chair away from my desk to give her space. If this were any other time, I’d grab her and pull her into my lap, but I have to be a lot more careful now. I offer her my hand, and she takes it, slowly walking around me to get on my lap. I pull her to me as I kiss her round stomach. I lay my hand on top, but she grabs it and moves it to the side. I’m unable to stop the laugh that bubbles in my throat at the feel of the kick.
“She’s been kicking me all afternoon,” she says.
“She? The last time I checked, Mrs. Bain, we decided not to find out the gender.”
“Well, Mr. Bain, call it a mother’s intuition. I will not be outnumbered in this house.”
“And what a house it is. What did your father say last week? The North Pole on crack and meth?” She laughs and rests her head on my shoulder. With our growing family, we moved out of the townhouse into a much bigger home less than one mile away.
Right now, the house is decorated for Christmas, and my wife spared no expense when it came to turning our house into a winter wonderland, fit enough for Santa himself. Her words, not mine.
“Remember our first Christmas together?” she asks.
“How could I forget? We spent the entire time with your family getting drunk off your dad’s rum punch. Your mother finally decided I was useful when she saw my superior gift wrapping skills and dance moves. Do you know that was one of the best Christmases of my life?”
“Mine too.”
She runs her fingers through my hair, and I rub her swollen belly as I think about our years together and how fast things moved with us. It was only a few months after our first Christmas when I went to her father to talk to him about proposing to his daughter. Despite the good relationship I’ve had with Nigel, I was nervous. This was his only daughter and the apple of his eye, but I worried needlessly.
“I’m surprised it took you this long,” he says to me after telling him my plans to propose.
“Yeah, well, I was already on shaky ground. And she’s young, so I wanted to give her a little bit of time.”
Nigel taps me on the shoulder and pulls out a cigar from his secret stash. Whenever Mona isn’t around, he indulges in a cigar.
“I just have to make sure I shower before Mona gets home. The woman has a nose like a bloodhound.” I take the cigar from him, not really liking them, but I know this is one of the ways he bonds with me. Since Andrew’s been back in the states permanently, he’ll have one with us whenever he visits.
“Don’t worry about the time, son. When you meet the right person, you just know. I knew I wanted to marry Mona two minutes after meeting her. She’s been driving me crazy ever since, but I can’t spend a day without her or I’ll lose my mind.”
“You were always okay with me, despite the way you and Mona found out about us. I thought you would have given me a much harder time, but you didn’t. You helped us, in fact. Why?” Nigel isn’t a talkative man unless he’s having a cigar.
“Well, I believed you when you said you loved her. I’m good at reading people. And Mona will deny this, but her parents didn’t like me at first. They thought I wanted to marry her for a green card, even though I’ve been in this country since I was eleven and was already a citizen when I met Mona. I’ve forgotten more about American history than they’ll ever know. We’re okay now, but I promised myself then that if I was lucky enough to have kids, I would always respect their choices. And you know something else? I think you and I are a lot alike.” He surprises me by throwing his head back and laughing. “My daughter found a man just like her father, and she doesn’t even realize it.”
A few days later, Miranda was wearing my ring and moving into my house, and Mona was planning a destination wedding, all animosity toward me forgotten.
“Are you happy you married me?” she asks.
I pull back to look at her face, sigh loudly, and roll my eyes. “Always fishing for compliments. You know marrying you is the best thing I’ve ever done. And seeing you big with my child inside of you? There aren’t enough words to describe how that makes me feel.”
She smiles at me and mouths I know before kissing my lips. “Are you happy you married me?”
She shrugs her shoulders and says, “It’s okay so far.” She starts to laugh when I tickle her. “Okay! Okay!” she shrieks. “I’m ecstatic I married you, even though you decided not to cook today. You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.”
The family is coming for brunch soon, but instead of cooking like I normally do, we both slept in. After driving her to the hospital yesterday with what we believed were labor pains, hours later, we returned home. My wife was not in labor yet. Too exhausted to cook such a large meal, I arranged to have the whole thing catered.
At the sound of the doorbell, we both rise from my chair. With my arm securely around her waist, we walk to the front of the house. I try to bring her to the couch, but she shakes her head and points at the door.
I can hear everyone talking at once.
“How do they always manage to arrive at the same time?” I ask. Impatient to see everyone, Miranda opens the door and our entire family is standing on the other side.
“Baby girl,” her mom says. “You’re supposed to be sitting. Nick, why isn’t she sitting somewhere with her feet propped up?”
Neither one of us has a chance to answer when our thirteen-month-old son shoves his way in and runs right to his mom. I intercept and scoop him up.
“My Stinky Nicky two-point-O,” Miranda says, reaching over and kissing our toddler. “I’ve missed you, baby. Did your grandparents spoil you? Dad, please tell me you didn’t let him sleep in the bed with you and Mom again. We can never get him in his crib when you do that.”
Nigel comes over and kisses his daughter on the cheek after shaking my hand. He reaches for my son and takes him out of my arms.
“He is my grandson to spoil as I see fit, gal. If he tells me he wants to sleep on the roof in the middle of January, I’ll find a way to make it happen. Now, hurry up and give us a second one to spoil.” He kisses her cheek again and walks away with our son.
“Not helpful, Dad!” Miranda yells after her father. I hug my mom briefly, but she turns her attention to my pregnant wife and touches her belly.
Nick junior was the second biggest surprise of my life, his mother being the first. We agreed to be married at least two years before starting a family, but our son had a mind of his own.
We had only been back from our honeymoon six weeks before we found out she was pregnant. I still remember being struck speechless when she told me.
It’s a Friday night in early September. I’ve been in New Hampshire all day touring the site where a building I’ve been hired to design is going to be built. It’s after seven at night by the time I get home, and after rubbing my shoulders and sitting me down at the dinner table, Miranda sits in my lap.
“You smell good, sweets. Let’s head up to bed right after dinner.” I rub my face in the crook of her neck. “If I don’t sink into you soon, I might die.”
“I thought we were going out for ice cream?”
“Woman,” I growl against her neck in my fake Jamaican accent. This causes her to belly laugh.
“I did not marry a man like my dad. I don’t care what you or Nigel Moore say.”
“Mrs. Good Stuff.” I kiss her cheek. “You think you’re so tough.”
“Oh my God! Stop!”
We eat the dinner she prepared and after, we walk to a nearby ice cream parlor.
“So,” she says over a bowl of cookies and cream, “Remember these?” She waves her arm in my face and shows off a charm bracelet.
“Yeah. I got that for you on our honeymoon. I want to go back for our anniversary next year. I loved Maui.”
“You know what else you got me on our honeymoon, Stinky Nicky?”
“Not stinky, sweets. I know you got laid a lot, but wh
at else did I get you?”
“Pregnant. You got me pregnant.”
The spoon of cookie dough ice cream slips from my hand and lands on my pants as I stare at my wife at a loss for words.
“What did you just say?” Blood is pounding in my ears, and all I can think about is that I hope I heard her right the first time.
“Your sperm is quite potent for an old man. My birth control just wasn’t strong enough. I’m pregnant, baby.” I jump out of my seat and lift her out of hers. Right there in the middle of the small space, I spin her around.
“My wife is pregnant!” I yell. Everyone inside claps and someone lets out a loud whistle.
“Nicky is ours next weekend. Becker’s grandson is turning two and we want to take Nicky to his party,” my mom says to me, pulling me out of my daydream. Between my mom and Becker, and Miranda’s parents, our son is always in demand.
Becker makes drinks for everyone, including a non-alcoholic version for Miranda and our son. A few minutes later, Uncle Joe and Henry arrive. Andrew is right behind them, looking more distracted than I’ve ever seen him.
For the next few hours, our house is filled with family, music, love, and nonstop chatter as we share a meal and memories of Christmases past.
After brunch, my mom takes control of the music, and of course, everyone laughs at her choice of song.
When I have my wife in my arms, dancing much too slowly for “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” she makes a face and looks down as water trickles down her legs.
In record speed, we’re on our way back to the hospital, and five minutes into Christmas, our second son is born.
“You are so outnumbered, sweets,” I say to her hours later as I hold our son in the hospital room. “But we’ll keep trying until we have a girl.”
