39. Epilogue

10 Months later, May 19 th

Rock music blasting downstairs in the kitchen pulled me from sleep. I laughed and shook my head. Our little girl loved to dance.

I stretched, groaning as I loosened muscles Gabe had taxed the night before. I breathed deep and closed my eyes, blushing and snickering at the memory.

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to look him in the eye, but I had no regrets.

Today was my birthday, the first one since I’d moved in with Gabe and Dylan. The last thing I wanted to do was waste it in bed.

Well, at least not by myself.

Within fifteen minutes, I’d showered, brushed out my hair, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, and jogged down the stairs.

“Mommy!” Dylan raced over to me, slipping her little hand in mine, her big blues sparkling. “Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you, Dilly!”

With only two months until her fifth birthday, she was fully invested in planning her next birthday party.

With me.

“Daddy is in the kitchen!” she hollered over the music.

As soon as I cleared the doorway, Gabe set his hands on my hips and whirled me around in a wild dance while Dylan perched on a kitchen chair, leaning forward over the table on her little elbows, laughing.

She was in her princess era, wholly and completely in love with love.

When the song came to a stop, Gabe bent me back over his arm and kissed me hard. “It’s about time you got up. I was just about to wake you when I heard the shower come on. Everyone’s going to be here for your birthday party in ten minutes.”

My eyebrows shot up as I laughed incredulously. I was having a birthday party? “Are you kidding me? Who’s everyone and how did you pull this off?”

He grinned. “I may have had a bit of help.”

Maeve and Brian barreled through the door, laden down with brightly wrapped presents and casseroles packed with food.

My face flushed with emotion.

Next, Noelle and Hawkley arrived. Baby Hunter had found his feet while sweet little Christy, at barely five months old, was happiest nestled in her daddy’s arms. Much to Hawk’s smug delight, she didn’t have much interest in anyone else.

Harley and Daire came next. Eight-month-old Cami had her mother’s dramatic looks and her father’s charm. Not sure where she got her stubborn streak, but when asked, Daire and Harley pointed at each other. Cami was a delightfully plush baby. She had taken a shine to Gabe who teased Daire mercilessly about her budding penchant for tattooed bad boys.

Everyone else seemed to pile in all at once, including my sweet Bridge, and the food fairly flew off the table.

The house was full, brimming with life and laughter, every single soul there belonging to me in some way or another.

I stepped back.

It was almost too much to bear.

“Happy?” Gabe’s warm, solid, chest covered my back as he wrapped his arms around me and leeched the tension from my body.

Immediately, I breathed easier. “Ecstatic,” I choked out.

He chuckled. “Ready for cake?”

I snorted, attempting to find my equilibrium. “Am I ever not?”

Harley clapped her hands and rubbed them together.

Bridge rolled her eyes. “Cake and ice cream is not the best dessert, Harley.”

Wren looked at Max. “I don’t know, I’m pretty partial to chocolate croissants.”

“Oh, I bet you are,” Noelle teased, then slapped a hand over her eyes. “God! Why do I keep doing that!”

Maeve carried the cake in from the kitchen, holding it up high, while my friends, no, my family gathered around and sang to me, perfectly off-key.

Dylan shadowed Maeve, sucking a great dollop of bubble-gum pink icing off her little finger.

Brian picked Dylan up and waltzed her over to the dining room table.

I got the sweetest sense of Deja Vue. Like I’d done this before, and would do it again, over and over again.

“It’s a good thing you’re a fire fighter,” I laughed, faintly embarrassed by the light emanating from the cake, but blessed beyond belief at this, my second birthday party, arranged by the man at my back.

Stepping in front of me, Gabe grasped my hands firmly and walked backwards. “I love you.” His eyes crinkled. “Now blow out your candles before we set our house on fire.”

Maeve set the cake down on the table.

My laughter died as every atom of my being laser-focussed on the cake. Surrounded by a solid ring of candles, Barbie winked up at me.

My heart lodged in my throat.

I reached frantically for Gabe’s hand and found it already waiting for me.

He squeezed my hand and murmured, his voice low and steady, “Happy Birthday, Shae-baby.”

I couldn’t speak.

Someone yelled, “Make a wish!”

I closed my eyes tightly and wished with all my heart.

Nan’s voice echoed in my mind.

May the dreams you hold dearest be those which come true.

With Gabe’s hand holding tightly onto mine, I blew out the candles.

The Following December

Lipstick and Lace

I sat quietly.

A stolen moment.

My fingers ran over the delicate lace at my wrist as if each thread told a story.

Set high on the wall, an antique stained-glass window filtered the bright winter sun and painted the floor with light.

The small room was made tinier still with the temporary addition of Nan’s vanity, but I couldn’t do this without her.

I sat down gingerly and looked at myself in the mirror.

Bits of my hair, swept up in front and tumbling down my back in loose curls, had escaped in softly curling wisps of gold around my face.

Over the 18 months we’d been together, Gabe had successfully trained it out of its ponytail.

Now, it refused to be contained.

Feeling caught in a long-lost dream, I checked to ensure I’d switched my engagement ring to my right hand before double-checking my dress.

Long, fitted sleeves ended in delicate lace cuffs. Embroidered with burnished thread, they neatly encircled my wrists with gold. The narrow shoulders of my dress framed a sweetheart neckline that just barely exposed the swells of my breasts, while the drop waist hugged my curves before cascading to the floor.

The earrings Mrs. Wemberly insisted I borrow sparkled in my ears while the tiara Nan wore on her wedding day captured every drop of light.

Bridge opened the door a crack and peeked in. Smiling softly, she tilted her head to the side and took me in. “Hey, beautiful. It’s time.”

I nodded and stood up.

She squeezed in and shut the door quickly, ensuring nobody saw me.

“How’s Dylan?” I asked.

Bridge smirked. “She’s out there flirting with the best man.”

“Of course she is,” I teased. “She chose well.”

Bridge rolled her eyes, then sobered. “I, uh, have something for you.”

I looked up in surprise. “You do?”

“Yeah. It’s not nearly as good as yours, but I wanted you to have a bit of your Nan with you.”

She handed me a tiny satin handkerchief, neatly embroidered in blue.

May the dreams you hold dearest be those which come true.

“Bridge, thank you,” I breathed, running the tip of my finger over each letter.

She waved me away and dropped to her haunches. “I’ll just pin it under your dress where no one will see it.”

Opening the slit that ran from mid-thigh to the floor, she tucked it close to my hip and neatly set it in place.

Jesus, Mary, and St. Joseph, Shae, would it kill you to show a bit o’ leg?

Tears welled up in my eyes.

Bridge looked up, her eyes widening in alarm. She pointed a finger in my face and lurched to her feet. “Stop! Noelle will kill us both if you ruin your make-up!”

I huffed out a laugh. “She’s the bridezilla of wedding planners,” I muttered, sitting down at Nan’s vanity to dab at my eyes.

“She is.” Bridge laughed and squeezed my hand.

I blew out a breath and met her eyes in the mirror. I pressed my lips tight and gave her a short nod.

I was ready.

She tilted her head to the side. “I love you, Shae.”

My mouth turned down ominously.

She laughed. “Oh no you don’t!”

I laughed wetly and gave myself a small shake.

She squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll see you on the other side?”

I smiled. “You most definitely will.”

With one last beaming smile, she slipped out the door.

Standing, I smoothed the wide swath of Irish lace that curved neatly around my hips. Gathered at the back, it trailed behind me to the floor.

I faced the mirror. “Okay, Nan?” I whispered softly.

My eyes sparkled with a combination of joy and nerves, but I looked pale.

Grabbing my clutch off the vanity, I searched unsuccessfully for my lip gloss.

“Oh no,” I murmured, patting myself down for pockets that didn’t exist. “Did I put it in the vanity?”

I opened the drawer, and Nan’s lipstick rolled to the front. I picked it up, a bemused smile on my face.

I didn’t remember putting it in there.

The music began giving me no time to find something else. Leaning forward, I carefully smoothed the color over my lips.

It was perfect.

My voice barely quavered as I whispered to my reflection, “Are you proud, Nan?”

Infinitely.

Holding her close to my heart, I opened the door. My first stop was the votive stand. There, I lit one candle for my nan, another for my dad, and a third for my mom.

Then three more.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to face the aisle. Lined with Nan’s favorite roses, it stretched out endlessly before me.

For a single stuttered breath, the half of me that was terrified of everything I’d yet to lose froze me in place.

The other half knew truth, sisterhood, family, and love surrounded me and waited with bated breath for my next step.

A sense of calm descended over me, sweeping first over my temples before wrapping around me like the softest of quilts.

There would be sorrow and loss, I knew, but for now, the path was laden with good friends, eternal blessings, and endless laughter.

In rows on either side sat our friends.

Our family.

Rudy, Marlena, and the rest of my Ayana’s family took up two whole rows, while the crew from Gabe’s garage and the fire station took three.

Our friends, including my girls, took up the rows in front of them.

And at the very front beside Brian and Maeve sat Mrs. Mason and Mrs. Wemberly, there to represent my Nan.

Dylan stood on the altar, spinning in a slow circle, her little hands following the waves of her skirt as it whirled around her.

Gabe jolted, taking two steps forward before forcing himself to step back in place.

Dylan stopped short and slapped her little hands onto her cheeks and squealed, “Mommy, you look like a real-life Barbie!”

The church rang with surprised laughter.

Gabe grinned widely as his eyes lit up.

My heart fairly burst.

That.

That’s what I was here for.

Eyes on the prize, I rolled down that aisle like I’d done it a million times before, joy ushering me forward.

His smile faltered.

To him .

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

My home.

His dark brows lowered.

The love that would sustain me today, tomorrow, and always.

Standing on the altar looking like a fallen angel next to the Pied Piper of Pussy.

When I was still ten feet away, Gabe stepped forward, smiled through his tears, and held out his hand.

I lifted my chin and reached for him, ready for the beauty we would carry into tomorrow.

Gabe weaved his long fingers through mine and unceremoniously tugged me up beside him.

The faint fragrance of roses wrapped around us, a reminder that those we loved never really left.

I threw my arms around his neck and laughed.

His eyes smiled into mine. “You love me, Shae-baby?”

I beamed.

“Infinitely."

***

Thank you for reading Your Soul to Keep. If you are a woman touched by infertility, I wish your heart healing and I hope you feel seen.