Page 76 of SEAL'S Baby Surprise
Austin follows after, emptying himself, laving me with his vital fluids. We are connected, like ocean to earth, earth to sky, sky to ocean.
We rest and catch our breath. Austin cuddles me gently in his arms, one hand splayed across my baby bump.
The baby kicks, bouncing his hand away. We laugh together, because this is our wave, and we are riding it. I can think of no better place to be, no better way to flow into our happily ever after.
AUSTIN
ONE MONTH LATER— A CHILD IS BORN
I sit on the edge of the bed. We are at the birthing center.
Kandis and Richie had this room specially decorated as a surprise. The bed looks like a giant paddle raft. The floor, which is a cushioned vinyl, looks like shell-strewn beach sand.
The walls are covered with a mural oceans-cape, featuring gently foaming waves, people on paddle boards and surfboards.
Lee (I still can’t think of her as Rylie) sits propped up by sea-green pillows, wearing a frothy white bed jacket, cuddling Robert Aloysius Moore to her breast.
Baby Al is a noisy feeder, smacking enthusiastically at his mama’s breast. He’s so blond he looks bald, even though he has a pretty good amount of fuzz on his head.
Richie sits in a rocking chair, dandling Charlie to keep him from climbing up onto the bed. Julia, who would ordinarily be keeping Charlie busy, is sitting on the other side of Lee, leaningon her shoulder to get a better look at her new brother’s ecstatic little face.
“He likes milk,” she announces.
“Yes, he does,” Lee agrees with her, looking down at the greedy little pig at her breast. Her face is alight with maternal fondness. It is no wonder that the old masters had portrayed mothers with a halo around their heads.
Lee has always been beautiful. But motherhood has brought out another side of her. She has that whole earth goddess — or maybe sea goddess — thing down pat.
Kandis has a camera out and is busy getting pictures of all of us.
“What will happen to this room when we go home?” I ask. It’s not like I really care all that much, but it does seem kind of a shame to waste all the work that went into putting it together.
Richard replies, “It will be available to other people to use. It has a kind of peaceful, yet happy dynamic going for it, don’t you think?”
“It does,” I say. “Kind of like Freedom Beach on a good day. I keep expecting to see Pops McKinney or Betty and Bobby to come walking up that path.”
“We’ll see them soon,” Lee says, “Won’t we?”
We will. Summer is here, and I cannot think of a better place for my little family than Freedom Beach. The travel trailer is just right for us right now.
Julia has her own room on one end, we have ours on the other, and Al has a niche that used to be a closet. We’ll outgrow it in a year or two, but by then we might have found a place to settledown and stay in one place. Maybe I’d just renovate one of the cottages in the Village.
My sister is coming to visit in a day or two. I’ll put up the glamping tent for her. We don’t really need her help, but she misses me. And she likes Rylie.
She had never liked Izzy. She always said she was bad for me. But she was sorry that she’d not been in touch when Izzy died. She would have taken Julia in, and she wouldn’t have been in the system.
But that was all right. The foster family she’d been with had done all right for her. Better than her own mother had, truth be told.
Sis has her own demons — a failed marriage, and a baby that was stillborn, in spite of all that medical help could do for her. I don’t mind letting her stay with us for a while. Perhaps the sea will be the healing she needs.
There are voices in the hall. Mimi and Pops Quinn come in. They make a beeline for the bed, but approach gently. Lee smiles at them. They’ve adopted us as their grandkids, just as they have Richie.
Pops claps me lightly on the shoulder. “How’s it feel to be a stay-at-home dad?” he asks.
“It’s good,” I say. “I’ve got my mermaid, my big girl, and now my son. I’ve got money in the bank against a rainy day, and I’ve got friends in case the banks fail.”
Pops cackles out his old man’s laugh. “Bed, bannock, and thee, eh?” he says, poking fun at me.
“Pretty much,” I say.
