When we moved here last year, Felicity decided to keep the house in Narragansett and was now renting it out to a family. We knew that as Eloise approached school age, we would have had to pick one location, and we’d agreed that England made the most sense. The timing had been right, since Aunt Mildred had decided to move to France around the same time, leaving her beautiful farmhouse vacant. I purchased it from her. Surrounded by animals, which included Felicity’s beloved Shetland, Ludicrous, Brighton House was the perfect permanent home for us.
Felicity truly seemed happy here, never wanting to venture away from the farm much, aside from her teaching job or volunteering at a foster home in London.
After her morning ride around the grounds, my wife stepped down off of the black stallion. “Your mother will be here soon. She’s coming for Eloise’s birthday cake.”
“Quick, hide the paint, Eloise! We wouldn’t want your grandmother to have a heart attack,” Sigmund quipped.
“She’s actually loosened up quite a bit, thankfully,” I said.
Felicity went inside to shower, and I got Eloise cleaned up for the small family birthday party. We were planning a kids’ party later in the week.
Since my wife never wanted a huge staff, we had one part-time housekeeper, Mary, who was now setting up balloons in the dining area.
It was nearly noontime when Sigmund kicked back with a beer in the living room to watch the football game. The doorbell rang, and I went to answer it while Eloise played on the floor next to Sigmund’s feet.
My mother stood at the door, holding a gargantuan, wrapped box.
“Hello, Mother.” I kissed her on both cheeks.
“Hello, my darling. Show me to the birthday girl.”
After Mother joined Eloise and Sigmund in the living area, I noticed my gorgeous angel descending the stairs. Felicity looked divine in a simple white dress with an empire waist. She and I had an announcement to make at the party. Yes, she was pregnant again, and that was part of the announcement, but the other bit made me equally nervous and excited.
I took her aside. “You look so beautiful right now.”
“I do? I don’t feel it.”
“Trust me,” I said as I placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I swear you’re even sexier when you’re pregnant.”
Felicity blushed. The fact that I still had that effect on her pleased me to no end.
She went to the living room and greeted my mother with a standard, formal kiss on each cheek.
Mum was still fairly close to my ex-wife, which I knew made Felicity a bit uncomfortable—not because she had anything against Darcie, but because my mother’s relationship with my ex was stronger than with her. Technically, under the peerage rules, both Darcie and Felicity were allowed the title of Duchess of Westfordshire, although Felicity still couldn’t get used to it. She’d smile awkwardly with a hint of a grimace anytime anyone called her “Your Grace.” But she handled it with grace, in any case.
As for Darcie, she had recently reconnected with her former lover, Gabriel Davies, who himself was now divorced. He confessed that he’d always regretted ending things with her and wanted a second chance. Given that she’d still had lingering feelings for him when we first got together, one might say everything ended up the way it was meant to.
After lunch, we all moved to the dining room and gathered around Eloise as she blew out the candles on her Hello Kitty cake. (Her mum had a tiny bit of influence on that choice.) My daughter squealed in joy and clapped along with us as we applauded her. She loved attention. In that sense, she wasn’t anything like her mother.
After the cake time was over, I looked at Felicity, and she nodded, giving me the go-ahead.
Clearing my throat, I said, “So, we have some news.” I took her hand.
My mother placed her teacup down. “Oh?”
I took a deep breath in. “We’re having another baby.”
Mum’s mouth dropped, and I knew what she was thinking: Please God, let it be a boy.
Before she could get her hopes up too much, I announced, “And it’s a girl.”
I paused to allow my mother a moment. My entire existence for so long had been about producing a male heir to carry on the Covington name. I’d come to terms with the fact that it might never happen. It didn’t matter to me, although I knew it had mattered to my father. I tried to hold on to the advice Nan had given me—that wherever my father was now, he saw things from a different perspective and understood what truly mattered. Carrying on one’s family name for vanity’s sake ultimately wasn’t the purpose of life.
“You found out already?” my mother asked.
“Yes,” Felicity said. “We had an ultrasound. I’m actually about four months along, but we wanted to wait until we were sure everything looked okay before we announced it.”
Sigmund came around to our side of the table and offered us each a hug. “Congratulations, guys.”
When he returned to his seat, Felicity and I once again glanced at each other.
“I’ll tell him,” she whispered. “We were thinking about naming her Britney.” She paused. “If that’s okay with you, Sig. We wouldn’t want to upset you in any way. We only want to honor her if it would bring you joy and not sadness.”
My cousin sat speechless. Then his eyes began to glisten. He stood from his chair. “Excuse me a moment.”
The only time I’d ever seen him cry was right after his wife died. But I suspected he was doing that very thing right now in the bathroom.
Felicity looked a bit panicked. And honestly, I wondered whether we’d made a mistake.
Even my stone-cold mother looked as if she were about to cry.
I knew time hadn’t really healed his wounds. I wondered whether he’d be able to give his heart to anyone else in this lifetime. Maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe we only get one great love. I knew if something were to happen to Felicity, I could never love another person the same way, and no one would ever replace her. Why would Sigmund be any different?
That reminded me of something I’d once told Felicity, back when we first met: “a connection between two people is no less valuable if cut short by circumstances.” Perhaps Sigmund and Britney were the greatest example of that.
My cousin finally emerged, and while his eyes were a bit red, there wasn’t a tear in sight.
He smiled. “Thank you for wanting to name your daughter after her. Despite what my nearly losing it might imply, there’s nothing in the world that would make me happier.”
Felicity placed her hand on his arm. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I can’t wait to tell her parents.” He grinned. “And if the doctors were wrong and it turns out you’re having a boy, I fully expect you to name him Sigmund.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
If the Covington name ended with me, so be it. I’d die a happy man, surrounded by my beautiful, redheaded angels. Or perhaps my daughters would go against the guard and refuse to change their names, remaining Covingtons after all.
So much had changed over the past nine years since Felicity Dunleavy first came over for tea. My life had turned out nothing like I’d envisioned it, and that was a damn good thing. Sure, I’d made mistakes. People had been hurt along the way, myself included. But amidst the pain of heartbreak, separation, and sadness, I’d learned firsthand what Nan had told me about love before she died.