EPILOGUE
Two and a half years later…
KEIR UNLOCKED the door to slip into the warm house. He shut out wind gusts of hard-whipped snow.
“Eeeee, it’s cold!”
Myah’s shriek made him look up to see her descend the stairs with a wide smile brightening her makeup-free face. A few steps from the bottom, he met her and wove his fingers through hers on the banister.
He held up her keys. “Your tank is full, your antifreeze is filled, tires rotated, so your brother should have no problem driving you around if I’m not here.”
She smirked. “They’ll only be here a week.”
“Well, whenever you want to pick your parents up at Ingrid’s, neither of you will have to worry.”
Now her cynical eyebrows joined the smirk. “I don’t think I’m the one who’s worried here, mister.”
Challenging her gaze, he half smiled. He lifted his right hand, slowly, ever so slowly to keep her in anticipated suspense, before he caressed her middle. He ran curious fingers over her until her cheeky eyes registered his touch. He leaned in for a kiss, which she gave easily, then he bent to give one to his seven-month old daughter waiting inside Myah’s womb. He caressed again. “I’ll be the judge of who can worry about what around here.”
“Daddy!”
Keir grinned, then stepped to the side in time to catch Dylan in a flying leap straight into his arms. Quick, this one.
“Daddy, I got a turkey!”
“You did?”
After he bent down to love on Jolie, he understood the statement and took the floppy paper Dylan offered.
“Oh. Nice.” He nodded at the circle of brown construction paper with yellow, green, and tan papers dangling off of it. “Is this our Thanksgiving turkey?”
“Mommy says not to bake it. Not even pretend.”
“She’s absolutely right. We wouldn’t want to ruin it.” He turned the paper over and saw a stick family scribbled on the other side. A tall white one, an inordinately obese but disproportioned black one, and a small black one beside an orange horse. Well, his four-year-old had the dynamics down. His gaze flicked to Myah. “And Mummy said we couldn’t burn it?”
She chuckled and held up her hands as she made to pass them. “That’s before I saw the art work. But guess which side will be glued to the refrigerator?”
He snaked his arm out and stopped her. Side by side in opposite directions they stared at each other. He’d never get tired of looking into her eyes. She’d found another way to touch him.
“You’re beautiful. Always,” he told her.
Stunning, bashful Myah came to life. And when he saw that shy smile, he leaned in to kiss her again. Why God gave him such an amazing family, he didn’t know. But no praise or thanks could pay it back, so he paid it forward. She tickled a finger on his ear while she kissed him, then smacked him on the rump. He left Myah’s soft lips and narrowed his eyes to caution her to behave.
“Glued,” she reiterated. She stole the turkey and returned his caution with a promise of her own.
Man, she still made him blush. He stepped back to school the grateful jitters inside, then tried to play down the hot moment as he looked at Dylan. “Want to come with Dad to see the new shop?”
“Bundle him up, please,” Myah pleaded. Turkey in hand, Jolie at her heels, she headed toward the kitchen. “At least I can get this place cleaned before the holiday.”
He watched her leave, then quickly had Dylan bundled against the elements and tucked into the back seat of his truck. They headed to the new garage location scheduled to open in six weeks. The small space behind the office was furnished and comfortable enough that he and Dyl could roughhouse and maybe take in the football game to give Myah alone-time in the house. In a little bit of a celebration, he played his latest Midnight Child release.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, Dyl?”
“Will grandma and grandpa be here for Thanksgiving?”
Keir glanced in the rearview mirror. Before they were married, Myah had mentioned what it meant to have Dylan be able to say that. “They’ll be here tomorrow. They’ll stay with Auntie Ingrid. Uncle Darren will stay with us.”
“I want them to stay here.”
“Hopefully. Some day.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Dyl?”
“Will Kara be here for Thanksgiving?”
“Your sister won’t be born for another two months, buddy.”
“Oh.”
At the stop light, Keir watched him as the bright, brown eyes checked out their surroundings behind blowing snow.
“Daddy?”
“Y-e-s, Dylan.”
“Will Uncle Darren be here for Christmas so I can have a big brother?”
That’s a new one. “Uhhh. He has to go home, but you’re the big brother. You can only have a little brother.”
“Oh. When?”
Keir grinned. He’d walked right into that one. He closed his eyes to get lost in the music. Myah used to hate this song, then it became one of her favorites. Maybe after Kara was born he’d play it and work on that baby brother.
“When, Daddy?”
“Uh.” He did the math. “Maybe next year around Christmas.”
“Next year?”
“You be sure to tell your mum it was your idea.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Not when you’re having fun.” He moved the truck forward. “And I’m workin’ on it.”
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