38. Monikers

38

Monikers

O ver the following two weeks, Gabe switched his furniture out for mine, in every room where it mattered.

Within the first week, he set up my craft room. The projects piling up on the worktable attested to the hours I’d spent in there every day since.

If I wasn’t in the craft room while Dylan was at daycare, I was scanning the want ads. Both Sage Ridge Elementary and the daycare were hiring special needs teachers, but something held me back.

It unnerved me. I had loved my job. I only left it when the stress of IVF overshadowed every aspect of my life. When I was grieving, I couldn’t go back to it.

Now I could.

But I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

I was sure I loved Gabe. I’d always loved him. We’d always been real, but I wasn’t ready for him back then.

There were still days I struggled to believe, but I pinched myself every night before bed and did the same every morning just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

I was sure I loved Dylan. I loved her climbing into bed with us every morning. Her little feet padding down the hallway, a tiny rhinoceros ready to take the world by storm, beginning in our bedroom.

This morning was no different.

“Hey there, Mommy!”

I laughed at Gabe’s grunt as she catapulted over him, catching her sturdy little form as she tumbled down in between us.

She climbed over me and lay her head on my chest.

Mornings were one of the rare times she was truly still.

“Hey there, Dilly-bar,” I said softly, scratching her little head through her messy curls. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“I sleep with mine baby.” She held up her Barbie, that poor, disheveled, over loved, Barbie.

“Just ‘Mommy’ this morning,” Gabe murmured.

“Sh,” I hushed him. “Don’t encourage the other one.”

“I’m totally onboard with Big Daddy,” he teased.

‘Big Daddy’ had stuck.

I’d never laughed so much in my life.

There were also other things of which I was sure.

I loved cooking for Gabe and Dylan, and I loved hitting The Beaver Dam with Gabe and the rest of our crew.

I loved lounging in bed with Gabe on Mondays before he whisked me away on whatever adventure he had planned for us on his day off.

Some of which took place between the sheets. Speaking of which, I needed a new bucket list.

And I loved our family time.

But work? I wasn’t sure about that at all.

Gabe didn’t care what I did so long as I was happy.

When Brian retired from the garage, I expected Gabe would need me. Until then, I would fill in where I needed at Ayana’s, look after my daughter, and work on the growing tower of baby quilts in my craft room.

This weekend followed our regular pattern. Saturday, we took Dylan to Carousel Park and the beach. Sunday, we went to Maeve and Brian’s for lunch, leaving Dylan there for the night as was our routine.

When we got home Sunday night, Gabe poured me a glass of wine and settled into his chair. Jerking his chin up at me, he patted his lap. “Come here.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. I knew where this was leading.

I set my glass down on the table and settled on his thick thigh.

He wrapped his arm around me and rubbed his big hand up and down my back until I melted against his chest. “I have something for you.”

“Yeah?” I brightened. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Nan had bought me something. “What is it?”

“It’s in my pocket,” he murmured against my temple.

I sat up. “Is this one of those sex games where you have me feeling you up by searching all your pockets? This isn’t on the bucket list,” I teased.

He chuckled. “I want you to remember how you underestimated me after you get your gift,” he teased back, patting the chest pocket of his shirt.

I tucked my fingers inside and felt a chain.

My eyebrows flew up, my eyes meeting his. “You bought me a necklace?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want—”

I laughed. “Why on earth would I not want to wear it?”

Dragging the chain from his pocket, I held it up. “It’s a locket?”

A clear, crystal, gold-beveled disk swung from a long, delicate chain. Catching it in my hand, I stilled its movement.

Tiny letters floated inside. I jiggled it to separate them and smiled, slightly confused, “G, D, S, C, M?”

He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Gabe. Dylan. Skye. Charlie. Melina.”

“Skye,” I whispered, my eyes welling over. “Gabe,” I sobbed, cupping my hand over my mouth.

Where I had struggled to find a way to remember, a way to honor, a way to hold close that which was loved and lost while still moving on from yesterday, he succeeded.

“I love it,” I whispered, throwing myself over his chest. “I love it so much. Thank you. I love you. Thank you for you. Thank you for Dilly. Thank you for finding a way to give me a little bit of them.”

“Shae-baby,” he murmured, his solid, unwavering strength beneath me. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

A smile replaced my tears as I straightened up, secured the chain around my neck, and tucked the locket between my breasts. It would take pride of place in Nan’s teacup whenever it wasn’t securely tucked against my heart.

“Okay?” he asked.

I nodded, swiping the backs of my hands over my eyes. “I’m good.”

“Can’t end with you in tears.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “I also bought you some new t-shirts to round out your wardrobe.”

I guffawed and lightly backhanded his chest. “You love my t-shirts.”

“I do.” He grinned and tapped my bum lightly to get me out of his lap. “Up you get.”

I followed him to the dining room table where he handed me a gift bag.

“I feel like it’s my birthday,” I teased.

His eyes lit with mischief.

I dove into the bag and lifted out a hot pink t-shirt folded to show a bit of the screenprint on the front. I shook it out and began to laugh. “Big Mama.” I snorted, then peeked around it. “Really, Gabe? Are we going to get one for you, too?”

“Oh, yeah.” He smirked and pulled his own t-shirt out of the bag with “Big Daddy” printed on the front.

“No!” I slapped my shirt down on my thighs as I bent over, howling with laughter. “We cannot wear these! Not in public!”

He grinned and wagged his eyebrows. “You haven’t even seen the back yet!”

“Oh no,” I moaned. I turned the shirt around and shook it out to see the back.

My breath caught in my throat, more blasted tears stinging my eyes as I lowered it to find Gabe down on one knee.

“Shaelynn Elizabeth O’Neill. You are the memory I want to carry into tomorrow. You’ve been my every second thought from the very first day I met you, all the years we spent apart, and every day since. You add light to my life, warmth to my nights, and joy to my days.”

I stared down at him.

Nan’s voice sounded in my head.

Don’t be afraid to pick up the phone, pet.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I haven’t asked yet.”

I twirled my wrist in a circle, the sound coming from my throat half laugh, half sob. “Get on with it.”

“Shae-baby, Shibaby, Big Big Mommy, would you do me the honor of adding Gabe’s wifey and Mrs. Kenny to your monikers? Shae, will you be my wife?”

I nodded, my lips pressed tight. “Mm-hmm.”

He took my hand and raised it to his lips to kiss my ring finger. His fingers shook as he slid his ring up over my knuckle before rising fluidly to his feet and taking me in his arms.

Sapphire eyes looked intently into mine. He shook his head and smiled down at me. “There’s no going back now.”

I smiled through my happy tears. “No regrets.”