Page 46 of Airhead

“As in six months from now?” The question squeaked out of her as she got behind the wheel, even as a vision of what kind of dress would be perfect for a Christmas wedding filled her head. “Don’t you think that’s a little fast?”

“When you know, you know,” he said with a shrug, before closing the door and then walking around to the passenger’s side and getting in. “Anyway, wouldn’t you rather start this adventure sooner rather than later?”

Mind racing, Katie went through all of the reasons why this was a crazy idea. There were millions, but none of them seemed to matter.

“What about kids?” she asked, turning the key in the ignition. “How many do you want?”

He considered for a second and then said, “Sevens a good number.”

“That’s a lot.” How many years would she be pregnant? And who could afford all those diapers?

“Well, you have a twin, and I have a twin,” Frank said, grinning at her as if seven kids—including twins—wasn’t completely overwhelming. “That means the chances of us having a set of twins is really up there. We should be mentally prepared for it.”

Somehow, he made it all sound completely reasonable. December wedding. Seven kids. Twins. She should be running for the hills. Instead, she put the car in gear and put the pedal to the metal.

“In a hurry?” Frank asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah. You said some things about what would happen if we found ourselves naked in a bed.”

“And I promise to deliver on every single one.”

Katie had never driven home so fast in her life.

It was worth it.

Epilogue

Present Day…

It was Saturday and that meant one thing: A Hartigan family brunch. It was the one time, each week, when all of the Hartigan siblings brought their significant others to the single-story ranch in Waterbury.

And their kids.

And their pets.

And the occasional foreign princess hiding out from her long-suffering personal security guards. Of course, that's a story for another time.

On this Saturday, though, the Hartigan house was filled to the brim with people, pets, and the smell of Hawaiian ham just out of the oven.

Katie Hartigan stood in open space between the kitchen and the living room and surveyed the scene. Something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but a person didn’t raise seven kids like hers without having a special sense for when shenanigans were afoot. On high alert, she scanned the living room.

Her granddaughter, Freya, was hosting a tea party with her favorite stuffed animals while her baby brother was rocked to sleep by mom, Lucy. Meanwhile, Frankie Jr. was keeping a fatherly eye on their first born, Frankie the third, known as Trey, who was dressed in his Spiderman costume and telling everything that he was tracking down the evil Dr. Kitty. That one-eared cat (known to everyone else as Honeypot) sat on the top of a bookshelf in the living room and watched Trey with the kind of disdainful look only a cat could make.

Finn and Fallon pulled their brother, Frankie Jr., in a corner and began whispering ferociously, confirming Katie’s belief that they were obviously up to something. The rest of her brood (Fiona, Faith, Ford, and Felicia) had left their significant others behind and disappeared together into the garage, supposedly in search of extra chairs. That really was the worst cover story ever. It wasn’t as if there weren’t already enough chairs for all of the Hartigans, their significant others, and all the rest of her grand babies: Amalie, Vito, Charley, and the latest addition to the brood, Finn’s love Princess Andromeda Lavinia Vespera known to everyone in the family on this side of the Atlantic as simply Andi.

She was pondering the possibilities (with her kids they were infinite) when Frankie Senior stepped up behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to confirm it. After more than forty years of marriage, he was still the only man in the world who made heart flutter just by walking in the room.

"Your children are up to something," Katie said, moving her gaze over to the people who’d joined the Hartigan family voluntarily, knowing they’d be easier to crack than any of her hard-headed kids.

Frankie wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against him. “Why are they always my kids when they’re up to something?"

"Because I am a model of virtue and restraint,” she said, almost managing to get the words out without smiling.

Frankie dipped his head and whispered in her ear, “You weren't last night."

Failing to smother her chuckle, she turned in his arms to face him. “Francis Delano Hartigan, you shush."

The cocky smart ass just grinned at her. “Pretty sure the kids are aware by now of how they got all those brothers and sisters."