Page 27 of Rubber Duckie Shifter Next Door

Epilogue

Nine Months Later

I lean back on the couch and smile at Sig, who’s duckied out on the living room floor, surrounded by building blocks.

The night Ada returned from her cruise, he’d shifted in front of Noah and the twins for the first time. And received the sort of instant acceptance that only kids can give. Then he shifted in front of their nana, and let’s just say, she took it much better than I did.

It’s been almost nine months since that day, and we’ve visited Sig’s home of Shifter Bay twice, but the kids still get excited every time he shifts. And, luckily for them, Sig loves spending time in rubber duckie form.

Noah scoops Duckie Sig up and moves him toward the castle he and his sisters have just built. “He doesn’t fit.”

Lisa scowls at the hole in one of the walls. “Told you the door’s too small. Didn’t I say so, Rachel?”

“You did,” I agree as I idly tap my fingers on the parenting book that I’m decidedly not reading. It’s hard to focus with three kids around, a baby kicking my ribs, and a book drier than a slice of burned toast—which I haven’t had the misfortune of eating since Sig took over breakfast.

I smile.

Because book or no book, I’m going to be a good guardian… and a good mom to the little boy we’ve got on the way. I believe it more and more with each passing day, and I know that with Sig by my side, I can’t fail. He’s a supportive husband, an amazing guardian, and I know he’s going to be a wonderful dad. To all our kids, once the adoption goes through.

Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he knows exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom… and in the hot tub.

Even nine months after meeting him, I marvel at the fact that this is my life. I’ve gone from struggling at adulting, to marrying a man who surpasses all of my dreams, with three kids and a bundle of joy on the way.

I glance down at my left ring finger, where the proof sits. A wave-shaped band adorned with diamonds that fit right over Janey’s ring, with a diamond in the middle that looks like it’s being lifted by a wave.

After jumping through some hoops, we were able to hire a contractor to combine Sig’s and Ada’s house into one, complete with a backyard pool, a hot tub, and enough bedrooms for all the kids we plan to have.

I even got the perfect remote job—one that lets me work from a poolside duck or the comfort of home once our newest family member arrives. I love the work, and the Rubber Duckie World brings in so much revenue, I have the freedom to quit whenever I want.

“See, even Rachel agrees.” Lisa snaps me out of my thoughts, though I have no recollection of what I just agreed to. “This castle was a waste of time.”

“Wait, I didn’t—” I start, but Noah interrupts.

“It’s not fair!” he cries. “Alien duckie fits through the door. I checked.”

And I wish I’d actually read the parenting book propped up on my belly, so I’d know the right thing to say. Or that Sig could talk in duckie form, so he could say it for me.

I’m still at a loss when Anna picks up princess duckie and sets her next to the much larger Duckie Sig. “Toy duckies are smaller than shifter duckies, Noah. See?”

He pouts. “I know that.”

Lisa crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Whatever. Let’s do something else.”

She reminds me so much of her mom. All three kids do. I can almost picture Janey sitting next to them, glaring at the castle right along with them.

“You know…” I say thoughtfully. “Your mom was in a similar situation once.”

They forget all about the castle and spin around to face me.

“She was?” Anna asks softly.

I nod. “She’d been working on an essay that was due the next day. A really important essay. It was worth half her grade.” I’m making up that last part, though I remember how much she was freaking out, so maybe it actually was worth fifty percent. “She was almost finished when the power went out.”

Anna gasps. “Was it really dark?”

Noah’s eyes widen. “Was Mom scared?”

I shake my head. “Not the least bit.”