A Glimpse of the Dream (41 page)

Kane

4 months later

My hand was going to fall off. I had lost blood flow about a half an hour ago. Tea had a grip. She was in the seventh hour of hard labor. The past hour she had been pushing. I had to say, knowing all the pain I had lived through, I was thinking childbirth might just top that.

She had gone all crazy too, crying one minute and then screaming at me. She actually threatened to cut my dick off. I mean, what? I liked my dick, she liked my dick, and yet I think if she had a scalpel, I’d be singing a few octaves higher.

“The head’s crowning.” The doctor’s announcement had Tea’s hand tightening on mine.

“Black hair,” she panted through her pushing.

“Tea, just focus.” I couldn’t believe she was trying to describe our child while she was still pushing him from her body.

“No.” And another deep breath, her body going tight, another push.

“Shoulders are out, the next push will do it,” the doctor encouraged.

And she did, one last push. I heard the sigh rip from her throat.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor said.

“He’s beautiful, Kane,” she said through tears.

In the next minute, someone was standing in front of me. “Open your arms, Kane. Hold your son.”

I didn’t even think, just went with instinct. Opening my arms, I felt the tiny life placed there. Wrapping him close and tight to my chest, I felt my heart swelling with love. So small, so delicate. Using the tip of my finger, I traced his face, his little lips, his chin and cheeks, his eyes. “You’re right, Tea, he is beautiful.”

“He has your eyes,” she whispered. “We still need to name him.”

“Christian Simon Doyle. After your dad and your idiot friend.”

Her voice sounded raw when she spoke again. “That’s perfect.”

“
You’re
perfect. Thank you, Tea, thank you for my son, for our life, thank you for not giving up on me.”

“You made me make a promise once, remember? You made me promise I would never leave you. I meant it then and I mean it now. I’ll never leave you. Now you need to make that promise to me.”

“Never, Tea, you’re my home.”

Teagan

One year later

Kane was sitting on the patio off the bedroom, Christian in his arms, watching the sunrise. I started into the bedroom with our chocolate milk but stopped just inside the room to watch them. We had come a long way; for so long, I never thought we’d get here, but we had and life was idyllic.

Simon and I opened our second shop just off Main Street in a beautiful little place. Christy and Matt were now officially running the Boston shop and both stores were in the black. I thought I’d feel more melancholy about leaving Boston, but I loved being home. Simon and I sold our apartment, and Simon moved into one of the rooms in the west wing of Raven’s Peak. Mrs. Marks had insisted. She said there were so many extra rooms, and it was stupid for him to pay rent for a place in town when he spent most of his time at Raven’s Peak anyway. Having access to Mrs. T, who insisted on cooking occasionally . . . Simon was all over that.

Raven’s Peak Inn was booked nonstop, a raging success. Kane had found his niche too: project management. He was hired to set up inns: to manage the steps from conception to the grand opening. Since Raven’s Peak Inn, he had managed two others in the area and now he had an assignment on the West Coast scheduled to start in a few weeks. Mr. O’Malley was his partner and they made a hell of a team. The fact that Kane was not only willing to leave Blue Hill but travel across the country, showed how much he had healed in the year since Christian had been born. He was so much like the boy he had been, that sometimes I forgot all the trauma he had lived through. His beautiful body was scarred, his eyes sightless, but his soul had healed, and having him back, all of him, was bliss.

There were still times when he brooded, when he got frustrated that he couldn’t do something, but he was learning that it was okay to ask for help.

Mrs. Marks and Mr. Clancy got married. None of us could believe it. They came home hitched one day after an afternoon outing. They were off in Italy now, touring through Europe.

Doreen visited a few times since we’d married, and I had learned to let go of my grudge against her, since it was completely unfair. But being truthful, I avoided her, because seeing her made me remember and, though I had forgiven her, there was a part of me that would never forget.

I’d never been so happy. I had Kane and Christian, my family at Raven’s Peak, Simon, and a life that was even better than I had ever imagined.

“Tea?”

“Sorry, got distracted, you two together are a sight.”

Stepping out onto the patio, I placed a glass of chocolate milk with whipped cream on the table and lifted Christian into my arms before settling into Kane’s lap, his arms coming around both of us.

“This is as close to heaven as I’m ever going to get,” he whispered into my ear.

Remembering there was a time he had been as close to hell as a person could get, my chest squeezed. Reaching for the glass, I gave Christian the first sip before taking one, and then held the straw to Kane’s lips.

“Never grows old,” he said.

“You’re not wrong.” Placing the glass down, I snuggled deeper into Kane’s embrace, holding Christian tighter. “I’m pregnant.”

Kane’s arms tightened around us. “You are?”

“Yeah, about a month along.”

His finger touched my jaw, turning my mouth to his so he could kiss me. “Hope it’s a girl.”

Then he stood, lifting me and Christian—his strength surprised me sometimes—before gently placing me on my feet. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Christian had started walking at ten months. Walking along the sand with Mommy and Daddy was his favorite. Each of us taking a little hand, we started down the beach, Zeus trotting along beside us. Little Christian guided his daddy as much as his daddy was guiding him.

Kane looked thoughtful when I glanced over at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. We did it, Tea. We’re living the dream.” His head turned to me, his eyes so beautiful and filled with love.

He was right, we had caught a glimpse of the dream as kids, but, finally, we were living it.

L.A. Fiore is the author of several books, including
Beautifully Damaged
,
Waiting for the One
, and
Just Me
. Her favorite condiment is salt, due to its versatility as both a food enhancer and a form of protection against supernatural visitors, especially since her ill-mannered cats are dropping the ball in their roles as guardians of the underworld. She loves hearing from readers and can be reached through Facebook at:
www.facebook.com/l.a.fiore.publishing