Gran is nervous and excited to be doing the ribbon cutting since this park has been named The Violet and Simon Rockfall Playspace in her and her husband’s honor.
Juliet is gorgeous and is about to burst any day now. Only Gran knows that we’ve secretly been married for a month. At our seven month appointment, I realized that as soon as the baby comes we are going to be busy and I wanted to make sure that Juliet was entitled to half of everything before our baby arrived. We brought Gran with us and took the jet to Las Vegas and over a weekend we were married at the Bellagio. They hadmarriage packages and while I wanted a grand affair, Juliet convinced me that we could have a massive reception after the baby was born.
It actually feels amazing to be married to Juliet. I wake up grateful every morning and go to bed excited to see her again each day. Marriage and pregnancy has not changed my wife. She studies hard, is passionate about historical architecture, gets so lost in her work that I have to pull her out to eat sometimes, but she gets equally as lost in me. She’s an attentive listener, a great problem solver and, above all, she’s an incredible friend. Our sex life is smoking hot and she is just as into it as I am.
For the last few months she’s been back on campus which means I’ve been working remotely from our mountain top house on the other coast, in a tiny little forested town. It’s been nice to slow the pace down and just focus on each other, and Juliet’s studies. She graduated in May and we had a small ceremony with her college friends and Gran. She really loves things to be intimate and, since I’m an introvert, that works for me.
As Gran cuts the ribbon on the first phase of our project, the town of Eaton cheers, but Juliet isn’t looking good. She’s pale and a little disoriented. Gran notices too and goes to attend to her as I give a quick speech about how excited I am to work with the community. I’m given the keys to the city by one of the kids I set up in the new apartment building for Christmas. As soon as we say our goodbyes and get into the car, Juliet is nearly panting.
“Ooh,” she exclaims and holds her belly.
“Drive faster," I tell the driver in a panic.
We want a home birth so I’m on the phone with our midwife and her team and they meet us at our townhouse in Eaton where they set up a pool in our living room. Juliet’s water breaks as soon as she makes it to the bathroom after the mad rush home. She goes from two to ten centimeters dilated in about three hours and, before we know, it Juliet and I are in the pool together; I’m wearing a bathing suit and Juliet is in her birthday suit. I stroke her hair as I coach her through the worst of her contractions. Gran putters around the kitchen making tea as a midwife and her assistant get ready for our little one to make her appearance earthside.
While it’s a little odd to be in a pool in the living room of our historic townhouse with so many people here, it's also natural. We are all supporting Juliet’s effort to bring forth life. And at four thirty in the morning, after a long night braving contractions and labor, Juliet gives birth to Amalie Grace Dubois, six pounds four ounces of the most beautiful baby in the world.
“She looks like you,” Juliet says, nuzzling naked in my arms with our baby suckling her breast after I brought her to our bed to rest.
And she does. Amalie is my mini-me and she’s gorgeous. I’m obsessed. I’m a babywearing dad. While Juliet recovers, I feed her Juliet’s breast milk in a bottle and wear Amalie all day long. This is something both Beckett and Griffin did with their little ones and I have to say, it helps with bonding. The best thing is my little one knows her daddy’s voice and coos with delight whenever it’s time for me to wrap her up and hold her against my chest so her mama and she can sleep; Amalie on me and Juliet, baby free.
Juliet is a patient and perfect mother, seeing my girls together fills me with crazy love. Love has been the overriding emotion for months and I bask in it daily. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I’m never going to go back to being a Grinch. I stare at Juliet and our baby, my tiny family and I vow to protect, love, and lavish these two until the end of my days.
Epilogue
Juliet
“Yes, yes, oh my God, yes.” I arch into Marcel and gasp in ecstasy. “Yes, that’s it, oh my God, I love you.” God, he feels so good.
We haven’t had sex for six weeks and I was dying. Gran has Amalie for the night so Marcel and I, who are still sleep deprived, have forgone rest for an endless night of love making. God, it's good to feel him come in me again, he’s so warm and delicious. I can’t get enough of Marcel. I have an IUD because we want to wait a while before we make another little Dubois. We’re enjoying our family of three and I adore having Marcel all the time, anytime. He’s my husband. MY HUSBAND. He’s mine, I get to keep him.
“Oh god, woman,” Marcel comes again. “You wreck me in the best way.” He slowly pulls out and hoists his tall muscular body over mine, nestling me into him. We’re flushed and heated, but who cares, I could marinade in him all day long.
“One more round, then sleep,” he says with his eyes drooping.
I kiss that gorgeous face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
ONE YEAR LATER
“Do we have diapers?” Marcel asks as he checks over the bags one more time.
“Yes, of course.” I roll my eyes because ugh, he’s so intense sometimes.
“Her lovey? Blanket. Binkie?” He rifles through Amalie’s bag.
“Several of each.” I touch his shoulder because he’s losing it. “We’re just going for a week, and I’m sure there are stores in Aruba if we forget anything.”
Gran comes down the stairs with her suitcase and gets in the passenger seat like she owns the car. “I decided to bring my bikini after all,” she says offhandedly and both Marcel and I smile and grimace. “Never know who you’re going to meet.”
“They might even sell age-appropriate bathing attire for a seventy-five year old,” I whisper in his ear as I slip into the car. “Give me the baby,” I demand as Marcel reluctantly releases our squirmy toddler.
“Snacks?” he asks, passing Amalie to me.
“Yes, and we’re flying first so ...” I reach out my arms to Amalie and she reaches back.
“Mama,” she says and my heart flutters.
“Hey, Ollie.” I babble and smile at my baby as I wrangle her flailing arms and legs into her car seat.
