“She’s one of a kind,” I say, smiling, as Gabi winks at me from across the room.
“She’s the one for you,” Mom says. “And that’s what matters.”
“Even if she’s the one you warned me about all those years?”
She laughs. “I’m just glad it happened after college.”
Since my dad wasn’t around, all of the big “talks” in my life came from my mom. The one that no teenage boy of a single mother will ever forget is the sex one. And in her case specifically, the importance of a condom. I remember her words like it was yesterday.
“Just please. Use one. Every time. The last thing you need is a child you didn’t ask for with a woman who might or might not be only using you for a potential chance of being a pro football wife. Just…wrap it up. Please, Maddox. For the love of God.”
The irony of it happening while I was wearing a condom is not lost on me.
But once Mom met Gabi, every one of those fears of her son getting the wrong girl pregnant—or the worries I know she had when she heard that Gabi was nearly eleven years older than me—melted away. She saw the woman I’m in love with. The mother of my child. They laughed and shared stories. Mom told embarrassing tales of me as a kid, and Gabi made her bear claws and a strawberry pie that sealed the deal.
“Thanks for being here, Mom,” I say, giving her a kiss on the head. “Are you ready to find out if you get a grandson?”
“Absolutely,” she says, patting my chest. “And if it is, I already have a list of things ready to give to Gabi. Raising a mini Maddox isn’t for the weak.”
I laugh and give her one more hug before I meet Gabi at the table with the cake displayed on it. We each say a few words before taking a champagne flute in our hands that we’re going to use to scoop out the cake.
“Ready?” I ask, the anticipation about to boil over.
“So ready.”
We share one emotional but relatively chaste kiss before silently counting to three. We do our best to keep looking at each other, not wanting to accidentally see what the filling is. Except I see it. She does too. And I immediately burst into the happiest tears of my life.
CHAPTER 25
GABI
“First I want to show you this stroller I saw. Every review is amazing. Completely top of the line. All the bells and whistles. It’s also apparently so strong it can survive being hit by a moving train.”
Now that gets my attention. Not for the reason Maddox probably thinks, though.
“Our stroller is going to survive being hit by an actual locomotive?”
“Yeah. It’s really durable.”
I stop him before he can start pushing the buggy through the all things baby store. “Maddox…”
Instead of his normal “Gabrielle,” I’m just met with a blank stare. Bless his heart.
“Maddox. Father of my child. The man I’m about to share a bathroom with on a permanent basis. Let’s back this up. While I appreciate such a sturdy piece of equipment for our unborn child, I need to know in what universe are we letting go of the stroller where it rolls far enough, and fast enough, away that it could be hit by a moving train? Why are companies testing these on moving trains? Also why are we that close to operating traintracks? On that note, if it were to happen, I’m not sure if the stroller gives much protection at that point.”
“Hmmm…you’re right,” Maddox says. But just when I think he’s back to Earth, he continues. “I could have the kids down at LaunchPoint build a bubble for the stroller. I feel like they could do it.”
“First, we’re not using child labor to build us things. Second, do you really want our son to be riding around in a bubble?”
His shoulders sag for a second, and honestly, he’s too cute right now. Ridiculous. But cute.
“Listen,” I say as I place both of my hands on his chest and lean up for a quick kiss for reassurance. “I love how excited you are. And that you want to spend your last day of the off-season shopping for baby things. But how about we just focus on furniture for the nursery today like we planned?”
He nods and leans in to give me a quick kiss. “You’re right. But what if?—”
“If we pass the strollers, you can absolutely show me the one you want.”
“You’re the best.”
