Unlovely Things (Love By Design Book 2) Page 15

  “Your mother and I worried about that. We were happy having you and taking on a second son was a lot to ask. I guess we didn’t think we should have asked you too.”

  “It’s not that Dad. Hunter is my brother in all the ways that count.”

  “But we treated him differently. I know. You can say it, Damien.”

  “It’s just that, I felt like I was sharing you with him.”

  “You were, but I get what you mean. I can’t take that back. I had my own guilt because I let Hunter grow up in that environment for so long and did nothing.”

  “I know his dad used to hit him. I guess I never really thought it though.”

  “Hunter won’t thank me for sharing this but I read the original police report.”

  “It was a car accident, wasn’t it?”

  “Close. Hunter gave an unofficial statement when they treated him at the hospital. Your Uncle was driving, maybe drunk and most likely angry. There wasn’t a time I didn’t remember my brother as being an angry kid.” Dad seemed to lose himself before speaking again.

  “Anyway,” he looked like he was shaking cobwebs off a memory. “Hunter watched his mom fight back, your uncle hit her and she grabbed the wheel as the car careened on the road before crashing. They both died, but Hunter was left there pinned until help arrived.”

  “Shit.”

  “Shit is right. Your mother, sensitive soul she is wanted me to go get him right away, but your Aunt’s family went out there first. After they rejected him your mother told me to go out there and bring him home or not to come back at all.”

  “I didn’t know you and mom fought about this.” It was weird and amazing having this latent new perspective about my parents.

  “I wasn’t sure how to get involved without making things worse and your mother wanted to charge in like a bull.”

  “I can’t imagine mom like that.”

  “Son, it’s the quiet ones that’ll get you twisted up as much as the wild ones, but in a different way.” He winked.

  26

  Kristen

  Damien wakes me from a dead sleep, my belly huge and protruding. Thirty-nine weeks is no joke. Everything is swollen and I have to pee every time I move. My body hurts everywhere as I struggled to lean up on my elbows in the bed. My back hurts stabbing pains everywhere. Why the hell don’t mothers tell their daughters about how awful pregnancy really is? The mood swings which Damien thinks are my normal personality, the weight gain, the food cravings and weird hairs growing in places they shouldn’t. Ugh! Oh, right, because by the time we’ve given them their own grey hairs with our stupid adolescent stunts, their cackling like witches ready and waiting for grandchildren. For some reason it brought me to a scene in Outlander with the Pagan women dancing around the stones singing serenely when I felt anything but serene or goddess like.

  “Babe.” He looks worried and insistent about something.

  “What the hell did you wake me for, Demon?” I looked at my boyfriend ready to kill or at least maim him severely. Cue those unpredictable homicidal mood swings. Who the hell wakes up a pregnant woman who is on the verge of giving birth as we speak? There were days I was pretty sure that my love had a death wish.

  “How do you feel about getting married?”

  “In general?” I looked down at my swollen and ring-less finger contemplating this new act of stupidity. Because when I look my most unflattering and unappealing we should definitely discuss things that require makeup, sexy fitted clothes, and a Bride or Bust boot camp workout routine. What the fuck is wrong with my boyfriend? And then I realize I have answered the majority of my questions right there in the moment. This was Damien Hart I was talking about.

  “I was thinking more like now.”

  “Now, as in, after we have this kid and get our bearings? Manage potty training perhaps? Slim down my beluga whale figure? Maybe get my mother to back down on the fact we’re having a bastard brigade?”

  “She doesn’t really think that, does she?” I rolled my eyes. Obviously, Damien had forgotten what it’s like to live across the street from Katherine Halle Calloway, municipal circuit judge.

  “Eh… okay, this is your mother we’re talking about.”

  “Uh huh, keep thinking with that coconut on your neck there, buddy. What were you thinking?” I asked him.

  “More like today. This afternoon.” He looked calm, too calm for my hormonal nerves to process fully what he’s asking.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” I have to roll back and forth like an oompa-loompa to get myself situated into a better sitting position so I can give him my classic stink eye.

  “I love you so much and I love this child we’re about to have and I just think that maybe we should consider getting married before he or she is actually born.”

  “Jesus Christmas. You actually said all that not breathing or blinking an eye.” He nodded and I grabbed the pillow throwing it at him. No, maybe beating him with it is what I should be doing grabbing it back. I’m overly pregnant and he wants to drag me downtown trussed up like a turkey for this? Oh hell no, there wasn’t enough Starbucks or bourbon to get me to do this, neither of which I could have for a good long while.

  Not today, Demon!

  Not!

  Today!

  “Babe, just think about it.”

  “I have and the answer is still no. It’ll be no tomorrow and the day after that and most likely a good long while after I have delivered your spawn.”

  “I know you’re feeling uncomfortable right now.” He looks me over and I want to smack him but I don’t because it’s the smile crinkling his face that keeps the itch in my palm to a minimum.

  “You think?” Sarcasm dripped from my dragon breath teeth when he puts his palm over my mouth gently.

  “Let me finish, Pebbles, this important to me.” He waited until I nodded and began again.

  “Kristen Halle Calloway, I fucking love you and I love our baby, but more than that, I love the crazy life you give me and the chasing you make me do just to get a moment of your time. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need you in my life like the sun needs the moon. We fucking bumper cars and you complete me.” It’s the sappiest shit I’ve ever heard and even our child resists by giving me a sharp pain of heartburn.

  “Damien.” His name is muffled between my lips and his fingertips and I knew in my heart he was right, but I just couldn’t make it that easy for him, or could I?

  “It would mean the world to me if you became my wife. Mine forever and ever.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” The look on his face is priceless and I knew I would remember it to the day I left this earth, preferably before him because I still had plans to haunt his ass even in death do us part.

  “Yeah, you big idiot.”

  “Oh my god, yes!” He jumps up from the bed fist pumping the air like a teenager who finally beat the Legend of Zelda. “Babe,” he kissed me between words, “you can have the biggest bad ass wedding you want later.”

  “Alright.” Another round of heartburn has me scooting out of bed to the bathroom to get ready. Damien Hart was crazy but I loved him.

  “I’m going to go make some phone calls, get ready woman to become Mrs. Hart.”

  “Joy.” I muttered with a smile permanently etched on my face.

  Before I get too far in beautifying myself, Damien is back, breathless and smiling.

  “We can do it! We just need to get down to the hall with our photo IDs.”

  “Not that I don’t think you’ve researched this thoroughly in the last fifteen minutes but are you sure that’s all we need?” He ushers me into the car and then we’re walking up the steps in Kingston, the county seat just twenty minutes from home.

  “Uh huh.” Well, Damien was wrong and the only thing I could do was smirk because he looked heartbroken while my stomach rolled in protest. Turns out we needed a license for marriage and a twenty-four hour waiting period because of the line of people waiting. I peered down the a
isle at the four couples ahead of us. Who knew a bunch of folks planned on getting married today? I bet this almost never happens except now when we actually wanted to committee our lives for eternity to each other.

  “Damien, I’m not feeling so hot can we just home?” I’m feeling emotional but I see the stubborn look on his face and don’t feel like doing an epic battle with him right now.

  “No babe. We came here and we are getting married.”

  “Not if this nice lady doesn’t let us.” I gritted my teeth in pain and nodded to the clerk who must have noticed my huge baby belly right then and blushed. Just my luck but I felt my stomach do a weird drop and I clutched my belly tight.

  “Ahem, you know, if you can trade place with someone already in line, I bet you could get married today before the chambers close.” It was Friday and if this didn’t happen now, we would have to wait all weekend. The woman took pity on us and told us if we could get a judge to sign off on a waiver to stay the waiting period and get back to the marriage hall before they close that day we would be ok and get married.

  “On it!” Before I have words, my soon to be baby-daddy-husband rushed out into the hall leaving me to waddle behind as my stomach started cramping.

  “Shit, I think I’m having a baby.” The woman behind the counter bugged out and told me to sit in a chair. I waved her off and let my body plop down waiting for Damien to come back. I didn’t have long to wait as he skidded past me, his eyes darting in all directions with a cute almost parent panic.

  “I just promised the Morely’s free plumbing for life, come on babe let’s go.” Damien helds the paper like it’s a golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory as he pulled me to my feet. I peered into the hallway watching the couple. The Morely’s looked like they could die at any moment and I knew I was going to hell for bribing and cutting them off. The old man looked grumpy and started arguing that he didn’t have much time and could die right there before it happens. The lady laughed, her face full of wrinkles and what I assumed must have been a well loved life tells him to give up the ticket already.

  “See my dear, that’s how it’s done.” The old lady smiled and gently slapped the man in his chest. I hoped that was Damien and I someday, long into the future where we argued and loved just as hard as we did today in this moment.

  “Okay, we have to go across the street and get a judge to sign this.” Damien dragged me down steps, across the street, and up steps until we found the very same judge who presided over Damien’s drunk driving hearing. What luck we were having. Judge Maddox, who also happened to know my mother, smiled taking pity on us while chastising Damien at the same time about being a good dad.

  My feet were killing and felt like pins and needles were racing up my legs trying to navigate the stairs and long hallways of the courthouse in a rush to get inside in the nick of time to see the justice of the peace as the last couple to get married. I wanted this day to be over, but I couldn’t have been that lucky.

  “Do you Damien Hart take this woman to be you lawfully wedded wife?”

  “I do.” Damien took my hands kissing the tips of my fingers. Sadly, the pain in my stomach made me want to poke him in the eye but I managed to repeat my vows barely listening to the words that followed.

  “Well, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your fair bride.”

  Damien looked at me finally understanding the pain I had been dealing with the last few hours.

  “Kristen? Honey? Are you?” I yelled in pain cursing him and vowing to God I was going to be a nun after all this.

  “Kiss me damn it!” I yelled at him as the judge stepped back closing his book.

  “As you wish, Pebbles.” Damien hold me up through another mind erasing cramp kissing me passionately. Well, as passionately as one can manage when their water breaks.

  “You’re one lucky bastard.”

  And Damien finally says the correct three words everyman needs to say to their wife, “You’re right dear.”

  Ford Harrison Hart was born healthy and yelling several hours later, much like I was while holding onto my new husband’s junk as tribute, so much for getting that epidural.

  Epilogue

  Did y’all really think I wouldn’t have the last word? (5 yrs later)

  I’m sure Kristen was stewing, but I was busy knocking her up so I could keep up with her. If you know my wife, you know I’m one heart attack away from the end with her level of crazy.

  Crazy in love maybe.

  I was fixing my cuff links as Hunter bounced my son up in his arms whispering in his ear making the little nuclear stink bomb smile like a good uncle. They’re wearing tuxedos that match my own. Never underestimate the power of a baby in a mini tuxedo. My son was born a heartbreaker making my male pride puff up my chest. I smiled, grateful that I had my cousin Hunter in my life and my son who looked like a mini version of my beautiful wife.

  “I can’t believe your mother is actually going to make an honest man out of your dad, kiddo.” Hunter gives him a noogie on his head and tickles him into a fit of giggles.

  “Hey, I can hear you asshole, and for the record I married her before any of them were actually born.” I waved my finger around reminding him. Hunter looks up smiling as he brings my boy over to me.

  “Barely born and if your wife hears that language come out of your mouth you’re a dead man.” I take Ford from Hunter’s arms and let my son down holding his hand in mine. He pulls forward and I let go watching him lumber on his own toward a toy car on the floor.

  “Ock ucker.” Ford utters between sucking his thumb and drooling.

  “Oh wow. Kristen must love that.”

  “Yeah well if his uncle wasn’t being a cocksucker all the time he’d hear it less.”

  “That’s comforting to know.” We laughed trading blows in age old fake boxing moves when Hunter pulled me in for a rare hug.

  “Bro, did you grow a vagina redecorating with TJ? I’m waiting for you to tell me you have cramps and start crying. I’m just getting married again.” Humor diffused the moment as Hunter let me go adjusting my bow tie.

  “Nah, I just want to know how big I’m going to need to dig the hole when Kristen hears her son cursing.”

  “Thanks.” I pushed him back and resumed fixing my bow tie wishing I’d grabbed a damn clip on instead when we hear a knock on the door.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Twin visions of trouble in what Kristen has told me a million times is blush pink taffeta tackle Hunter. Personally I’ll keep calling it salmon because it looks like fish innards and keep my man card safe.

  “Emma and Nora!” My five year old daughter Alaina stomped her foot with her hands on her hips looking belligerently at her cousins who simply giggled dragging Hunter down with them.

  “Honey, what’s a matter?” I kneeled down to her eye level and take in her tear streaked cheeks.

  In a quiet voice she tugged on my arm commanding my attention as any five year old would do. “If you marry mommy again, who is going to marry me when I grow up?

  “Oh honey, you’ve got a long way off before you’re going to get married.”

  “I do?”

  “Yeah, another good thirty years I’d say.”

  “Chicken shhhh….” I look over at Hunter who is rolling on the ground with the kids calling me out.

  “That’s a long time, maybe forever.”

  “It goes by a lot faster when you don’t think too hard about it.”

  “Do you think about it, Daddy?”

  “Every day, little princess, every day.” Alaina huffed out loud and stomped her foot again giving me her mother’s expressive face only much younger. This girl was capable of slaying me worse than her mother. My heart was going to be in shreds before she ever got to high school.

  “Life’s not fair, Daddy.” I tended to agree with her and if I could snapshot every tender moment between me and my kids... I’m a busy man just trying to catch them and time passes far too quickly that I choke up a lit
tle.

  “No, it’s not baby girl.” Clearing my throat I shake it off because Hunter would love to go running with that tale about how I cried like a pussy on my second wedding day.

  “That must be why it’s taking fooooreverrrrr!” She rolled her eyes dramatically and left the room looking for her mother. I’d consider locking her away in her bedroom if I didn’t think I’d get in trouble.

  “Man…we are in so much trouble.” Hunter pulled me up from kneeling on the floor and goes to fix my tux, retying the shit bow I made, making sure everything is straight.

  “Who said anything about we, dude? At least I’m not outnumbered in my own house.” Hunter smirks and that’s when I know he knows.

  “Yet. You’re not outnumbered yet.” He said with that shit eating grin of his.

  “You fucking cocksucker. You know? How do you already know? We barely know!” I grabbed him by the lapels and we faced off.

  Ford chants from the floor. “Da-da-da-da! Ock ucker!” I never understood why some females felt the need to tell their tribe of girlfriends these things first.

  “My wife will kick your ass if you give me a black eye before the ceremony.”

  “And if mine wasn’t pregnant with baby number three I’d spank her ass for telling anyone.”

  “Hey, you might have another boy, or better yet twins of your own. That reminds me–let me know when you want to schedule the renovation on the kids’ rooms. You know how pregnant ladies get with construction going on, love or not its hell on wheels,” and didn’t I know it. I had spent all day yesterday snaking the toilet because Alaina decided her dolls needed a bath.

  “Dude, I love my kids, but you better hope to God you’re the only one in this family that shoots doubles….” Hunter grabbed his middle bending over laughing and if the church organ hadn’t started playing our cue music of Pachelbel’s Canon I would have considered kicking his ass on holy ground in Highlander style after all.

  “Gentlemen, are you ready?” Father Paul stuck his head inside the side room calling us out.