“You say that now, but what happens when we’re not home and they’re alone together?” I ask, watching as Daisy runs in and out from between the big dog’s legs then jumps up and down, trying to get him to play with her. “Okay, so maybe they’ll be okay, but I just don’t know.”
“Come here, Sophie.” Nico holds out his hand in my direction. I scoot around the dog before taking his hand so he can pull me onto his lap.
“I think I’m getting too big to sit on your lap,” I tell him.
“Never.” He kisses the side of my head. “Now come here, Goose.”
“Goose?” I repeat quietly, watching the dog come towards us. “What kind of name is Goose?”
“Goose is his name because he’s as white as a goose.”
He is white—pure white, with one black ear, a pink nose, and blue eyes. Nico holds my hand out for him to smell. I have been around Asher and November’s Beast a few times. He’s a nice dog, great with all the kids, and very protective. He’s just so big. I always try to avoid him.
“Relax, babe. He’s a good dog.”
I un-ball my fist, cautiously holding my hand out to him. His cold, wet nose touches my palm, and then his tongue runs over my skin. Daisy jumps on the couch so she can get closer to Goose, and once she’s in front of him, she starts licking his face and barking, trying jump on him. He pushes her out of the way with his head, forcing her to the side so he can lay his head on my lap. His nose goes to my stomach, and I wonder if he smells the babies. Daisy’s still going crazy trying to get his attention, but he just ignores her, pressing himself even closer to me so I’ll pet him.
“The best part is he’s already house broken, and he’s full grown.”
“Where did he come from?” I ask, starting to relax and enjoy the comforting feeling of his big, warm head against me.
“A friend of mine who’s in the military is getting ready to go overseas and can’t take him with him.”
“So we’re going to have to give him back in a couple years?” I wonder out loud, not liking the idea of getting attached to him and then having him taken away in a few years when his owner comes back.
“No, babe. He’s ours permanently,” Nico assures me.
I laugh as he rubs his big head against my stomach, wanting me to pay attention to him. “Okay, so he’s kinda cute,” I finally agree.
“He’s well trained. That’s what’s important.”
“You’re not still worried, are you?” I ask. Since moving, I never even think about what happened at my old house.
“I will be worried until we find out who the person behind what happened to you is.”
“Nothing has happened in forever. Maybe what happened before was a complete coincidence.” I shrug my shoulders, the movement making Goose look up at me with big puppy-dog eyes.
“Maybe, maybe not, I’m not willing to take that chance.”
“So I guess we just got a new dog.” I sigh, finally placing my hands on each side of the giant head nuzzling my belly and stroking his short but surprisingly soft fur.
“Glad you’re seeing things my way.” He smirks.
“I love when you ask me how I feel about something, knowing you’re just going to do whatever you want anyways.” I scratch behind Goose’s ears and giggle when one of his back legs starts to shake.
“When it comes to your safety, I will do what’s necessary.” He kisses the side of my neck, and Daisy decides to jump up on the back of the couch, where she can prop her front paws on Nico’s shoulder and lick both of our faces.
My hormones take over for a moment and my heart swells. “Two fur-babies before our two real babies get here. It’s gonna be a full house.”
*~*~*
I sit down in the glider that was just delivered for the babies’ room and tap my pen on the paper in my lap. I need to reply to my dad’s letter. I’ve been putting it off for a long time, trying to figure out what I want to say, what I really want our relationship to be like, or if I even want a relationship with him at all. The closer my due date gets, the more I think about my babies having their grandfather—not just Nico’s dad, but my dad as well—at least in some capacity. I know it’s what my mother would have wanted. I look down at the paper again, wondering how to even start the letter off. Do I write Dear Dad, or do I write his name? Why does this have to be so difficult?
“Whatcha doing in here?” I look up when I hear Nico’s voice.
“Sorry?” I ask him, lost in the way he looks. His torso is covered in sweat, his tattoos even more pronounced from the sun shining into the room, his body looking bigger than it used to for some reason.
“What are you doing, baby?” he repeats.
“Trying to write my dad,” I mumble out, my eyes locked on the V of his hips. “Did you have a good workout?” I look up when I hear him laugh. “What’s funny?”
“Baby, the look on your face makes me think you didn’t get enough this morning.”
“Sorry.” I smile. I’m not really sorry; my hormones are insane. I want him all the time, but the part that sucks is that we are forced to only use a couple of different positions with how large I have gotten.
“Don’t be sorry. Come shower with me.” He bends over me, his body caging me in with an arm on each side of the chair.
“I really need to write him. I keep putting it off.”
“You can write when you’re ready.”
“I have been ready. I just don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how to address the letter. I mean, do I say, ‘Dear Dad,’ or something else?” I sigh, leaning my head back against the chair.
“What do you feel like addressing him as?”
“Dad… I don’t know.” I close my eyes and then open them when his lips touch my forehead. “He’s my dad, even if he didn’t act like one, but after everything that’s happened…I just don’t know.”
“You address him and talk to him about anything,” he says softly, his words spoken against my skin. “He’ll be happy to hear from you, no matter what you say.” He kisses my forehead again and then my lips before running a finger down my cheek and leaving the room.
I watch the spot he just left for a long moment before putting my pen to the paper for the hundredth time.
Dear Dad,
How are you? This is awkward, and I don’t really know what to say, but as Nico told me once, awkward is okay as long as you don’t feel uncomfortable. I don’t feel uncomfortable. I feel like this is something I have needed to do for a long time. I have thought about your letter a lot since I read it. I have been trying to understand where you were coming from and what you must have been going through after Mom passed away. Now that I have Nico, I can’t imagine him being taken away from me without warning. I pray I never have to go through something like that.
I wish I could say I forgive you for everything, and hopefully, with time, I’ll find a way to do that. I want you to know your grandkids. Nico and I are expecting twins. We don’t know the sexes yet because we want to be surprised when they get here. Everyone has been making bets since we found out we were pregnant. I think they are both girls, but Nico swears they are boys, but I can tell he really wants at least one girl. I know he is going to be a great dad. His family is amazing. His parents are very supportive and loving, and they have accepted me as I am. He has three brothers, and each of them is married and has kids of their own. I hope you don’t think I’m saying these things to upset you. That’s not what this is. Honestly, before Nico, I had Maggie, Devon, and a few other friends, but now my life is full and I’m happy.
Nico also just bought us a beautiful home in the country—a house Mom would have loved. I sometimes sit out on the front porch at sunset and read. I hope when the babies get here I can sit outside and read to them like Mom used to read to me. I wish I had some of the photos of us so I could show them my side of the family when they get older.
Well, I don’t know how to end this letter, but I hope you are okay and that when you read this, i
t brings you some kind of happiness.
XOXO,
Sophie Mayson
I set the letter down on my lap and close my eyes. When they open, I look around the nursery at the light-grey walls Nico and his brothers painted last week. Then I look at the mural of a white tree with silver leaves his mom just painted. My gaze drifts over the two cribs that were added to the room two days ago, with a changing table between them. The room is beautiful and will be perfect for either sex once the babies get here. The room represents so much—not only the start of our family, but also Nico’s family, the love they have for each other, and what it means to have a real family. I smile and stand up, going in search of my husband and praying that I find him before he gets dressed.