“Shhh, Sus, save your strength,” he said. “I’m here now, for good.”
Riding out the pain, she clutched him tightly, and then as it subsided, she pushed him away. “For good?” She just couldn’t afford to hope. She needed all her strength to get her babies born. And Michael, after all, was Michael.
Grinning, he spread his arms wide. “Meet Michael Kennedy, Finance Consultant,” he said.
“Michael?” She studied every inch of his face, hardly recognizing the light in his eyes, the easy smile on his lips.
“I quit Coppel’s three weeks ago, Sus,” he said, all playfulness gone. “I only hope you can forgive me for taking so much longer than you to grow up.”
“You’re sure?” she whispered.
“I’ll tell you all about it later, but rest assured, I’ve never felt better in my life.”
He’d grown up? Hadn’t she just said that about herself the last time they’d—Of course she had. But how was it possible that Michael had done such an abrupt about-face?
Susan didn’t know how this miracle had happened, but she knew suddenly, with complete surety, that it had.
“Oh, Michael. Ohhh!” The love and happiness in Susan’s voice changed instantly, first to surprise, and then agony as, without further warning, their children decided the time had come to make their appearance.
COMPLETELY UNPREPARED for the speed with which things happened after that, Michael just went with the flow, his only job to give Susan whatever strength he could, however he could. Barely aware of the people moving in and out of the room, the instructions and orders, he stayed at the head of her bed, telling her over and over again how much he loved her.
And when, less than half an hour later, he heard the first cry of his newborn child, he was afraid to turn around, to claim for his own the joy that awaited him. How on earth did he deserve to be there? What right did he have to accept the bounty he’d fought so hard?
“Aha,” the doctor said, sounding pleased. Michael saw Susan pulling forward, her chin to her chest, as she strained to see. “Your daughter’s the oldest,” Dr. Goodman told them.
“She doesn’t have a name!” Susan said, and burst into tears.
“Shhh. We’ll name her, Sus, just as soon as you finish here. We can do it together,” Michael said, glad to have something to do, to distract him from the miracle taking place around him.
“Here, daddy, why don’t you hold your daughter while Susan and I work on getting that little guy out here.”
The worry in Susan’s eyes as she watched him gave Michael the strength to turn around, to reach out his arms to that tiny, messy bundle, and bring her close to his heart. The oddest sensation came over him, filling his entire being, until the pressure built behind his eyes. He had no idea he was crying until the first drop slid out onto his face. Hadn’t, until that moment, known he was capable.
Less than ten minutes later, Susan held their son against her, exactly as Michael still cradled their daughter. Her gaze moving from little Zack—she was going to have to explain that one—to his precious little no-name, her eyes finally came to rest on Michael. And with that look she made silent promises of love and a future filled with greatness. A future he knew would be grander, fuller, than any he could imagine.
“You see, Michael?” she whispered. “Life offers so much more than mere contentment. If you live right, and you’re very, very lucky, you get happiness, too.”
She always was the smartest woman he’d ever known.
EPILOGUE
“DAEY SHIT, daey shit!”
With one hand plastered over his daughter’s mouth, Michael sat. And found himself on the floor in the front of the biggest Christmas tree he’d ever seen. Using him as a stepstool, which Michael was sure was the intention, Rosemary cl
imbed onto his lap and reached up to get the lighted Santa ornament she’d been after since they’d arrived at his parents’ home that morning, the morning of Christmas Eve.
“What did she say?” Mary came running in from the kitchen, her apron smeared with flour and pumpkin-pie filling and Michael had no idea what else.
“She told me to sit down, Mom,” he said, bobbing the child up and down on his knee, hoping to keep her quiet, at least until there were no witnesses. And keep her grabby fingers away from the lighted tree at the same time.
Mary laughed, a full-bellied, honestly happy laugh. “I knew Susan would teach her right.”
Laughter erupted from the kitchen. Susan and Laura eavesdropping, he was sure.
The Kennedy household was filled with smart-mouthed women, the mouthiest one of all being his year-old-daughter, Rosemary, named after both her grandmothers. Zack toddled over, grabbing a fistful of Michael’s sleeve with a hand smeared with drool and the rest of an oatmeal cookie his grandmother had given him.
He grunted. And then grunted again, eyeing his sister with purpose. He wanted his share of his daddy’s lap. But, as always, Rosemary had beat him to it. The poor guy never got a word in edgewise. Which explained why Rosemary’s vocabulary was approaching more than a hundred words. And Zack could grunt.