Though the example I offer does bring Christian down to earth again, he continues with the questions. “Will we move to a bigger house?”
None of us miss how he’s looking at Bug.
Me—I’m looking at Kenna.
“I… I… no,” she says. “Your house is perfectly fine. I mean, we might slap on a coat of paint, replace some appliances, and maybe, in the future, add on.”
I raise a brow. “Another bedroom?” My eyes flit to her belly.
She just smiles and shrugs, but inside, my heart is soaring. Because having a child with her to add to our already amazing kids would be a dream come true.
“Will you quit working?” Christian asks.
“No, son, I’m not going to quit working. It’s not my money.”
“You don’t have to work if you don’t want to,” Kenna says.
“Ha! What would I do, sit around watching Netflix eating Bon Bons? I love cars. I’m not going to stop doing what I love.”
When Christian is done asking all the questions, and the bottle of wine is long gone, I head down to gather a sleeping Amelia into my arms and the four of us head back home.
Home. It has a whole new meaning now. It’s not just my home. It’sourhome. It’s the home Amelia will grow up in. The one we may bring more children into.
After tucking Amelia into bed, Kenna is back upstairs, sitting next to me on the couch.
“Christian’s question got me thinking,” I say. “What willyoudo now? Do you want to work? I mean, not as a receptionist, but maybe something else? Invest in a business?”
She nudges me. “Haven’t I already done that?”
I chuckle. “Oh, right. But I doubt you’d have very much fun being involved in the day-to-day operations of the shop. Seriously, what are your dreams? Is there anything you want to do?”
“I’m thinking of going back to school, actually.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “School?”
“You said CCU is a good school. Maybe I’ll finally earn my degree.”
I smile. “Personal finance?”
She nods. “If I’m doing this, I need to learn how to be a good money manager. It’ll mean more for our kidsandfor the charities we donate to.”
I tug her closer. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“Maybe one day I could even run my own charitable foundation for CP.”
“I think… wow, I think that would be incredible.”
She turns and puts her legs in my lap. “Do you really think I could do it? That I’m smart enough?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, you’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Her gaze meets the floor. “But if I were smart, I never would’ve been in the situation I found myself in.”
I put a finger under her chin and make her look at me. “You were scared. You were being blackmailed. Manipulated by a master manipulator. That doesn’t mean you weren’t smart.”
“I feel like I haven’t made one intelligent decision in my entire life.”
“Hey now.” I look mock-offended.“I’mone of those decisions you know.”
