Page 41 of Flint

“In a little while.”

Brock reaches into his pocket and produces a pack of fruit snacks. “We saved him the last one.”

“It has the grape ones in it. It’s the best,” Branson adds.

“I think he’ll really like that,” I tell them.

The nurse enters the room to check my vitals. She’s just finished doing her check-up when there’s shouting in the hallway. It’s loud and chaotic and puts the biggest grin across my face.

“What’s that?” The nurse turns toward the door.

“My future husband,” I answer. “He’s come for me and my boys.”

Flint appears in the doorway five seconds later. He sways on his feet, and he’s dressed in clothes that don’t fit. He’s got a black eye and a gash on his forehead that probably needs medical attention.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Cord says, right behind him.

“I don’t think anyone could,” Mira tells her husband.

Then Flint is rushing to the bed. The boys tackle him halfway there, and he scoops them both into his arms. “You came! You came! Mom, he’s here!”

He never breaks stride as he carries them over to me. He’s bloodied and exhausted but he’s alive. He’s here, and he’s alive.

“Flint…”

I can’t even get anything else out because then he’s kissing me like we’re the only two people in the room, maybe even the world. And every promise he’s ever made to me comes true in that moment.

I’m crying when he breaks the kiss. A shadow crosses his face as he lowers the boys onto the mattress. His voice is gritty, pained. “The baby?”

I take his hand and put it on my stomach. “So healthy.”

“Baby?” Brock and Branson ask at the same time.

“Your dad and I made a baby.” I don’t take my eyes off of Flint. I can’t.

“Like arts and crafts?”

“With popsicle sticks?”

Flint laughs. It sounds rusty and water-logged and a little bit like maybe he’s been just as terrified as me for the past few hours. “Yeah, there was a stick involved.”

“Cool. Can we see the baby?” Branson asks.

“You can see it soon,” I promise.

Something else flickers across Flint’s face and I feel his finger trace the outline of the ring on my hand. I reach for him, pulling him close. I don’t care about the audience watching or anything else in the world. “I love you.”

His whole body shudders. “I love you too.”

Then he’s kissing me again. This kiss is gentle, reminding us both that everything is right in the world. We’re okay, all three of our babies are okay, and we’re going to get married soon.

When he lifts his head again this time, he smiles. “You look beautiful.”

He’s lying, and we both know it. “And you still owe me a picnic, cowboy.”

Grandma sighs from her place in the plastic chair beside the bed. “Keep it down, love birds.” She reaches for the tv remote, turning on the old movie channel where a Sylvester movie is playing. “Some of us are trying to watch television.”

Chapter 19