Slade intertwines our hands, the massive blue diamond on my engagement ring a stark contrast to the simple platinum wedding band he wears. We got married in a simple ceremony at the ranch just a few days after I told him everything. Not only did I vow to love him in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, but I also vowed to love him when he’s an asshole. That got the crowd laughing. Not sure how the pastor felt about that one, but it had to be said.
That was a couple of months ago now. His father, Clay, some other ranch hands, Jon, and Catrine attended. They got the same story we just told the lawyer. I’m sure Jon suspects it’s not the total truth.
“This shouldn’t be a problem,” the lawyer says. “This kind of thing happens all the time. An aunt or grandmother, or in this case, a sister, takes custody of a minor while the parents get themselves clean or find work. That kind of thing. No paperwork is ever filed in those situations. Now, of course, your mother is deceased. The fact that your mother never filed for a birth certificate or social security number makes this a little more challenging, but we’ve established that you’re his last known blood relative. You have the means to provide for him. Now that I have the necessary evidence, this should be a pretty straightforward case.”
“Thank you,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand to end the meeting, but Slade stops me.
“There’s one other issue,” Slade says. “Once this is all settled, I’d like to start the process of adopting Finn.”
He looks over at me and smiles. Just when I think I can’t love him any more, he does something like this. I lean over, kissing him on the cheek, and whisper my thank you. I have so much to thank him for. For having Jon escort me away from his father, for giving me a job, for looking past everything I threw at him, for stepping up to the plate with Finn, and for loving me. I don’t know that we do that enough—thank the people who love us. We should all do that each night before going to bed. Turn to the one we love and say:
Thank you for loving me.
Slade had mentioned adopting Finn a while back, but I had no idea he was going to bring it up today. As usual, Slade is full of surprises and full steam ahead. When he makes his mind up he wants something, he charges at it. Since Finn is so young, I plan on him calling us Mom and Dad. As he gets older, I will tell him the truth about who we are, but I think it would be too confusing for him to call us anything else right now.
Still, when I think about it, if Slade does actually adopt Finn, then I will be married to the father of my brother. That sounds very wrong, but I’ve learned that sometimes a wrong does make a right.
EPILOGUE
SLADE
“Happy Birthday, buddy,” I whisper in Finn’s ear. He looks up at me and smiles, not having any clue what to do with the cake before him.
My dad, Catrine, Jon, baby Theo, Clay, and some other ranch hands are all here to celebrate Finn’s first birthday. Paige has been planning this day for weeks and weeks. The theme is the number one. The number one is on everything from the plates and napkins to the balloons and cups. Even the cake is in the shape of a huge number one.
We moved back into the ranch two days ago, barely making it in time for his birthday. I knew Paige really wanted his first party to be here, at our home. I made sure to make that happen by paying the construction guys overtime and hiring additional workers, doing whatever I had to do to give her this.
The day Finn was born, and the few that followed weren’t exactly picture-perfect, so I will make sure that his birth is a day to celebrate for the rest of my life. My son deserves that.
Yes, he’s officially my son. Since there wasn’t anyone contesting the adoption, the process went smoothly, and yesterday it became final.
Finn Turner.
And his little brother is due in late spring, just before the oppressive Tennessee heat kicks in. Initially, we wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise, but the little guy had other plans when he had his legs spread eagle during the ultrasound.
My dad is armed and ready with the camera, trying to capture Finn eating his first birthday cake. Paige insisted Finn have his own. It’s a crisp December day in Tennessee, but still warm enough that we can do this outside.
A picnic blanket is laid out especially for this moment. Finn is walking now, but he hasn’t quite mastered walking outside yet, always wanting to stop and pick at the blades of grass. Using me as support, he stands.
Paige places the cake down before him as we all sing “Happy Birthday.” It’s not a big crowd, but big enough that he hugs my neck for reassurance.
“Make a wish,” Paige says, holding the cake out in front of him as she and I blow out the single candle together.
He looks at both of us for encouragement. Paige sets the cake on the blanket, and I scoop the icing with my finger and take a lick to show him what to do.
He promptly turns around and sits down on his cake, and everyone bursts out laughing.
“Finn!” Paige cries, but she lets him sit there, mushing the cake between his fingers and then sticking his hands in his mouth. When it starts to go in his nose and ears, she scoops him up, rushing to throw him in the bath.
The party winds down after that, and everyone heads home. It’s just about Finn’s nap time anyway, so the timing is good. After some quick cleanup outside, I walk in the house, hearing Finn’s little footsteps on the wood floors. I hear his giggle and see his belly enter the room before he does. Wearing only a diaper, he rushes toward me. He can’t quite run yet, but he’s getting there. His speed is now a fast waddle.
“Finn Albert Turner,” Paige says, a playful tone in her voice as she chases him, her shirt covered in cake and water.
Picking him up, I toss him in the air a little, and he squeals. “Everyone leave?” Paige asks.
I kiss her on the head. “Yep. Just us.”
She tickles Finn a little. “Sugar rush. He’s never going to nap.”
“I’ll put him down,” I say.
Finn is a great baby and an even better napper. He sleeps about as good as he eats, so that’s saying something. It doesn’t take long before he’s out for the count. Paige’s sleeping habits have improved as well. She still loves the Cooking Channel; she just doesn’t watch it in the middle of the night anymore.
Looking for Paige, I grab a slice of leftover cake and stick a candle in the middle. I know Paige didn’t have any except what got on her clothes. I wander to our bedroom, which is on the opposite side of the house from Finn. Paige isn’t quite used to that yet, accustomed to him being close.
Opening up the door, I see her standing at the dresser in only a black bra and panties, changing from Finn’s icing finger painting. Her little baby bump is in full view. My breath catches in my throat. I’ll never get used to seeing her like this, finding her in my bedroom. I remember that first time I found her asleep in here, so beautiful. It’s that same feeling every time.
“Stay just like that,” I whisper.
She turns to me, her skin blushing. I just stand there, admiring her, so beautiful, growing our little baby. “Think I might need to keep you pregnant.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. I know I’m pushing it. We are already going to have two kids less than two years apart. “I’ve actually been thinking about something you suggested,” Paige says.