Falling Into Us (44 page)

The cheers were deafening, but no one clapped harder or cheered louder than I did.
 

“When are you due, babe, do you know?”

Nell rested her head against Colt’s arm. “I’m due in December.”

Colt glanced away and toward the ceiling, thinking. “Which means you conceived in…March.” A slow grin spread across his face. “I think I know exactly when we—”

“Colton!” Nell shrieked, and snatched the mic from him, smacking him across the shoulder.
 

“Sorry. I’m just excited.”

The crowd was laughing and clapping, and then someone toward the back clinked their spoon against a glass, which was soon caught up by everyone in the room.

Colt handed the mic to his friend Split and turned Nell in his arms. “With pleasure,” I heard him murmur to her as he kissed her, long and deep.
 

After a few moments, Split stood up and held the mic to his mouth. “A’right, a’right. Save it for later, you two.” Split turned to face Colt as he and Nell sat down to listen. “I’ve known my boy Colt here since he was nothin’ but a scared little cracker livin’ in the ’hood. He’s been through more than most of y’all could ever imagine, and he’s here because he always was the smartest and the strongest of anyone I know. Now, I ain’t gonna lie, I saved his ass a time or two, but he’s been there for me more than I have him. He’s like a brother to me…a brother, and a
brotha
, if you know what I mean.” Split glanced out at the audience sitting rapt at the round tables. “But then, most of y’all are white, so you may not know. Guess that makes me the token black guy at the wedding, huh? It’s a’right, it’s a’right. Point is, after everything Colt’s gone through, there ain’t no one in this room happier than me to see him get married, ’specially to a damn good woman like Nell. When I met Nell for the first time, I was skeptical. She was nice, but…well…I didn’t see back then how strong she was. She took Colt and she gave him a new lease on life, as stupid as that sounds. She did, though, for real, y’all. She loves him, and she gets him. And that’s important. So…Colt, Nell, ya’ll two are family to me. You’re the family I ain’t never had, and that’s the truth. I love you both, and I’m happy for you. Congratulations.” He lifted his glass of ice water to the ceiling, and then toasted Colt.

It was my turn, I realized. I’d been thinking this through for days. I took the mic from Split and stood up, swallowing hard and focusing on my breathing. “Hi. I’m Becca. Nell has been my best friend since the first—the first day of kindergarten. She stole my glue
and
my glitter. We’ve been friends ever since.” I faced Nell. “I’m going to try to get through this without crying or stuttering, but I’m not making any promises. We’ve both had some…interesting experiences. I’m going to keep this light, since it’s a wedding, but Nell, you know what I mean. There were days I really worried about you. You said once you weren’t sure you’d ever be okay. Well, look at you now. You’re married to an amazing man, and you’re gonna be a mommy soon. I’m proud of you, Nell. You…you’ve come through s-so much, and you’ve found your happiness. You’ve found your way to okay. You’re going to be a w-wonderful mother, and Colt, you’ll be a wonderful father. I have no doubts in my mind. My son loves you, after all, and he actually listens to you better than he does me some days. Right, Benny?”

Benny was sitting on Jason’s lap, a piece of bread in one hand and a fork held awkwardly upside down in the other, mashed potatoes clumped onto the end. He looked at me, hearing his name, and then held out the fork to me. “I gots ’tatos. Want some, Mama? Have some ’tatos?”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Thanks, buddy. I had some. Do you love Aunt Nelly and Uncle Colt?”

Benny nodded. “Yep. Colt is a horsey. Gived me ride the horsey.”

“What about Nell?”

He glanced at Nell, thinking. “Yep. Nelly, you got more candy? More nem-in-ems?”

Nell laughed and leaned toward him. “That was supposed to be a secret. You weren’t supposed to have candy.”

I glanced at Nell, who blushed and acted innocent. “It was just a few M&Ms,” she admitted.

I shook my head. “So that’s why he couldn’t sit still yesterday.” I grinned at her. “Just remember this when I give you your kid back someday. I’ll hop them up full of candy and send ’em home, and we’ll see how funny it is then.”
 

I had opened my mouth to resume my speech when a loud fart echoed from Ben’s general direction. He looked around in surprise, as if wondering where the sound had come from, then turned to me. “Mama, I go poo-poo.”

The audience howled.

I covered my face with my hand, mortified. “It looks my speech has been hijacked by a certain little stinker,” I said. “I’ll end it with this. Nell, I love you. I’m proud of you, and I’m happy for you. Congratulations.”

After changing Ben, I came back to the tail end of Robert Calloway’s speech, the last one of the evening. After that, the cake was cut and consumed, and the dancing began. Nell and Colt ended the reception by performing their song “Falling Into You,” which had received national radio play since their proposal show in New Orleans.
 

I danced with Jason and Ben, holding my two men close, and watched as Nell strummed her guitar, her wedding dress pooling on the floor at her feet, her voice capturing the audience, joy on her face.
 

The newlyweds left soon after, and I hugged Nell just before she got into the limo.

“Thank you, Becca,” she whispered to me. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, some days. I can’t wait to be mommies together.”

Jason shook Colt’s hand, and then wrapped his arm around me, Ben held on his opposite hip. “So Nell is preggo, huh?” Jason mused. “It’s about time. Maybe we should think about number two, what do you say, babe?”

I turned to look up at him, an apprehensive smile on my lips. “I think I’m down with that plan.”

Jason's eyes lit up. "So, Benny, what do you think about Mommy having a baby?”

“A baby? I not a baby. I a big boy,” Ben declared.

“I know you are, bud,” Jason said. “There’d be two kids. You and another baby.”

“Two babies?” Benny asked, confused.
 

“Two babies,” Jason answered.

I smiled as I watched Benny try to figure out what “two babies” meant.
 

“I the baby?” he asked.

Jason tickled his belly. “Nope. You’re gonna be a big brother.”

Benny frowned, his eyes—so much like Jason’s, greenest green and beyond expressive—thoughtful. Then he held up his stuffed animal, the question forgotten. “I got ’Raffey. Have nem-in-ems?” He opened his mouth like a baby bird, waiting for M&Ms to be deposited.

Nonno to the rescue. Paper crinkled and Benny twisted in Jason’s grip, his attention laser-focused on the sound of a candy wrapper. My dad plunked M&Ms one by one into Benny’s mouth, much to my disgust.

“Dad! It’s eleven o’clock at night! He’s never going to sleep now!”

Dad just shrugged. “It’s a wedding,
figlia
. Rules go out the window.”

It was well after midnight before Jason and I got Benny asleep on the cot in our hotel room. We shed our wedding finery and curled up in bed, Jason spooning me.
 

Jason was silent for a while, drowsing. “I hope it’s a girl. We’ll name her Bella.”

I snorted. “We are
not
naming our daughter after
Twilight
.”

“Joking, babe.”

“What about Evelyn?”

“Hmm. ’S a possibility.” He was drifting off, so I let him go and mused through possible names for boys and girls until I, too, was asleep.
 

At some point in the night, Benny crawled into bed with us, wedging his warm little body between ours. Jason’s arm draped across Benny and over my hip, sliding up to caress my belly in his sleep.
 

I was half-awake, feeling Benny’s breath on my shoulder and Jason’s hand on my skin. I was totally content, blissfully happy.
 

THE END

POSTSCRIPT

Colt held his daughter in his arms, cradling her tiny body into the crook of his elbow. She was in the twilight between awake and asleep, eyes heavy-lidded, little fingers clutching his thumb. She was swaddled in a soft ivory blanket, cartoonish, wide-eyed green owls gazing wisely in a repeating pattern. Her name, Kylie, was stitched in forest green thread along one corner.
 

When Kylie stirred in the blanket, fussing and mewling as she fought to stay awake, Colt stood up from the rocking chair and paced the length of the nursery, bouncing her gently. She opened her eyes a little wider, staring cross-eyed at her daddy, mouth working and little whimpers escaping. Colt snagged a pacifier from the crib and stuck it into her mouth, and then hummed a few bars. When the humming caused her eyes to grow heavy, Colt drew a breath and then sang, his voice low and smooth:

“You’ve got your momma’s eyes, you know,

My little baby girl.

You take a breath and you capture my heart.

You’ve got your momma’s nose, you know,

My little baby girl.

You clutch my fingers with all your strength,

And you hold my soul in your tiny hands.

I dreamed of you,

My little baby girl.

I dreamed of you,
 

Every single night for nine long months.

But I never dreamed

You’d steal me with your eyes

So much like your momma’s.

Every father has a ghost, you know,

My little baby girl,

He’s haunted by all the things he could do wrong.

So I can only hold you close

And hope I do it right,

Hope I love you enough

Hope I give you everything you deserve.

I dreamed of you, you know,

My little baby girl

With your momma’s eyes.
 

I dream of you still,

I dream of what you’ll be

And what you’ll do.

I dream of seeing your first steps and

Hearing your first word.

I have another ghost,

Every father’s subtle fear,

The day we blink you’re behind the wheel,

Blink again and you’re on a date

With a boy we can’t stand,

Blink again and you’re graduating,

Blink again I’m walking you down the aisle.

So don’t grow up,

My little baby girl.

Stay small and warm and soft,

And fitting in my arms

Falling asleep to my singing voice.

Don’t grow up

My little baby girl.

At least not too fast.”

Kylie was fast asleep by the time Colt’s voice faded. He settled her in her crib, leaned down, and kissed her softly. Nell stood in the doorway, watching.
 

She fit herself into Colt’s side as they watched their daughter sleep. “Can you believe we made something so perfect?”

Colt smiled down at his wife. “Yes, I can, my love.”

In those moments, scars were forgotten, nightmares were banished, and fears were soothed. Each breath, each kiss goodnight, each lullaby sung pushed the past further away, until hidden razorblades and nights of pent-up tears were nothing but old memories from another life.
 

In those moments, the innocence of a baby healed all the deepest cuts.
 

In those moments, everything was finally okay.

PLAYLIST

“Demons” by Imagine Dragons
 

“I Drive Your Truck” by Lee Brice
 

“Sure Be Cool If You Did” by Blake Shelton

“Whatever It Is” by Zac Brown Band
 

“Flightless Bird” by Iron & Wine
 

“Singers and the Endless Song” by Iron & Wine
 

“(Kissed You) Goodnight” by Gloriana
 

“Must Be Doin’ Somethin’ Right” by Billy Currington
 

“First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes
 

“We’re Going to Be Friends” by The White Stripes
 

“Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova

“Come and Goes (In Waves)” by Greg Laswell

“God’s Gonna Cut You Down” by Johnny Cash

“Your Long Journey” by Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

“Been a Long Day” by Rosi Golan

“Please Remember Me” by Tim McGraw

“Ten Cent Pistol” by The Black Keys
 

“The Blower’s Daughter” by Damien Rice

“Longing to Belong” by Eddie Vedder

“City” by Sarah Bareilles

“Dream” by Priscilla Ahn

“To Travels & Trunks” by Hey Marseilles

“Rhythm of Love” by Plain White T’s

“Kingdom Come” by The Civil Wars

“Sleepless Nights” by Eddie Vedder and Glen Hansard

“Breathe Me” by Sia

As in the previous book, music was the heart-blood of this story. I fell in love with Jason and Becca as I wrote this story, and these songs are the soundtrack to that love. Each song tells its own story, and together they weave a single tapestry. As you support me by buying my books, I urge you to support these amazing musicians by buying their music. Art—any and every kind of art—is the truest expression of our souls. Art is what makes us human. It bind us as a society, as a culture, and as a globe. Support art, any art. Buy it, share it, create it. As Neil Gaiman urged in his now-famous address to Philadelphia’s University of the Arts: “Make interesting, amazing, glorious, fantastic mistakes. Break rules. Make good art.”

An excerpt from

STRIPPED

Coming this August

I squeeze my eyes shut and pray, but then feel guilty about it; God wouldn’t approve of what I’m about to do, that’s for darn sure. I clench my hands into fists to stop them from trembling, but they shake like leaves in a Georgia thunderstorm.
 

“Gracie, you’re on in five.” Tim, my manager, pokes his head into the door of the dressing room, and I certainly don’t miss the way his beady little eyes rake over me.
 

My flesh crawls under his blatant perusal, and I want to tell him off, but I can’t. After all, I’m about to get a whole heck of a lot more perused in about five minutes. I’m barely clothed, at least as far as I’m used to. I grew up wearing ankle-length dresses and skirts with loose T-shirts. Nothing low-cut, nothing above the knee. Nothing revealing or immodest. Nothing sexy or sensual. Nothing ungodly or irreverent.