Genius, right?
I’ll have a limo waiting nearby—but not too near—to drive us back home, so we can sit back and relax on the way. And have limo-sex, of course. You should never pass up the opportunity to have sex in a limo—it’s always fun.
Kate’s eyes are shiny with tears. happy ones. “I love it. James Brooks-Evans. It’s perfect. Thank you.”
I lean forward and kiss our son’s forehead. And then I kiss his mother’s lips. “You’ve got it all wrong, baby. I’m supposed to be thanking you.”
She looks down at James tenderly. And in that voice that could make an angel green with envy, she starts to sing.
There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me
So good night you moonlight ladies
Rock-a-bye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won¹t you let me go down in my dreams
And rock-a-bye sweet baby James
There’s only a few times in a guy’s life that he’s allowed to cry without looking like a total chump.
This is one of those times.
When Kate is finished, I clear my throat. And rub the wetness from my eyes. Then I climb onto the bed beside her.
I’m pretty sure it’s against hospital policy, and I admit, some of those male nurses look pretty f**king intimidating.
But come on—they’re nurses.
Kate turns toward me, so James lies between us. My arm lays over him, my hand on her hip, encircling them both.
Kate’s eyes are velvety warm. “Drew?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you think we’ll always be like this?”
I give her a small smile. “Definitely not.”
And then I touch her face—the one I plan on looking at every morning and every night, until death shows up to drag me away.
“We’re just gonna keep getting better.”
So there you have it.
how’s that for a happy frigging ending, huh? Or beginning . . .
I guess . . . depending on how you look at it.
Anyway, now’s about the time I start spouting off some pearls of wisdom.
Advice.
But given the events of the last year, it’s become increasingly obvious that I don’t know what the f**k I’m talking about. I don’t think you should listen to anything I’ve said.
You still want me to give it a shot?
Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
here goes:
Number One—people don’t change. There’s no magic bullet.
No bibbidi-fucking-boo.
What you see is what you get. Sure, certain habits can be tweaked. Reined in. Like my propensity for making snap judgments. The very idea of assuming I know everything—without checking with Kate first—now makes me sick to my stomach.
But other characteristics, they stick.
My possessiveness, Kate’s stubbornness, our collective competitiveness—they’re too much a part of who we are to be totally eradicated.
It’s kind of like . . . cellulite. You ladies can spend all day at the spa wrapped in mud and seaweed. You can throw a fortune away on those ridiculous creams and scrubs. But at the end of the day, that puckered, dimply skin is still gonna be there.
Sorry to be the one to break it to you; it’s just the way it is.
But if you love someone, really love them, you take them as is. You don’t try to change them.
You want the whole package—cottage cheese ass and all.
Number Two—life isn’t perfect. Or predictable. Don’t expect it to be.
One minute, you’re swimming along in the ocean. The water’s smooth and calm; you’re relaxed. And then—out of nowhere—an undertow sucks you down.
It’s what you do next that counts. Do you give it all you’ve got? Kick for the surface, even though your arms and legs are aching? Or do you give up and let yourself drown?
how you react to life’s twists and turns makes all the difference.
So Number Three—the important thing is, if you can make it through the rough, unexpected times? That light at the end of the tunnel is worth all the shit you had to wade through to get there.
That’s something I’ll never forget. I’m reminded of it every time I look at Kate. Every time I look at our son.
When it’s all said and done? The payoff is way more than f**king worth it.
