Page 156 of Moonlighter

“Okay, Dad. Let’s do the big reveal. Ladies and gentlemen, the sign that will help Rosie learn to write her name—”

My father reaches behind his chair and pulls out a wide canvas on which he’s lettered, in three shades of yellow, surrounded by daisies: ROSEMARIE ERICA ENGELS.

“Oh, perfect!” Rebecca squeals.

There are murmurs of approval. But only one person’s opinion interests me right now. My gaze swings toward Eric because I purposefully hadn’t told him Rosie’s middle name yet.

He bursts out laughing. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” I say, crossing the room to me. “It’s legal. Right on her birth certificate. You campaigned hard, my love. And I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”

And right there, in front of the whole wide world—including both our families—I give him a big, juicy kiss on the lips. When I’m done, he’s still laughing.

After everyone is gone,and while Rosie and I are nursing in the rocking chair, Eric hangs the new sign over Rosie’s changing table. “Are you sure you don’t need to do this yourself?” he teases, tapping in the molly.

“Nope. You go ahead. I’m retired from carpentry. I breastfeed, and I diaper, and I plan to read her the entire Harry Potter series, all four thousand pages.”

“You know…” He picks up the screwdriver next. “I retired from something today, too.”

“What’s that?” I rock the chair gently as Rosie sucks.

“Hockey.”

My chair abruptly stops rocking. He did not just say that. “Eric. Tell me you’re joking?”

He shakes his head and then calmly screws in the hardware. “It’s time, Alex. It always was. I just didn’t want to believe it. I need another knee surgery, but this way I can put it off until spring instead of hurrying in there to become useless again.”

“Wait,” I sputter. “You’re not putting it off on my account, are you? Eric—I love all the help you’ve given me. But I do not want to be the reason that you cut your career short.”

“It’s not like that,” he says, lifting the painted sign into place on the wall. The wire catches the screw on the first try.

Of course it does.

“I’m happy to be here with you guys. It’s a privilege.” He turns around to face me. “I mean that literally. Most men can’t spend time with the people they love whenever they want to. But I have money, time, and choices. Feeling sorry for myself would be a fucking crime.”

Rosie picks that moment to pop off my breast and look up at him. I hope her first word won’t be an f-bomb.

I tuck my breast away, my head still spinning as I lift Rosie to my shoulder to burp her. “I need a minute to get used to this idea.”

“I needed about three months. So take your time.” He straightens the painting. It looks really nice up there.

“You still need surgery,” I say slowly. “Is that why you’re wearing that giant brace all the time?”

“Yep. It’s just to keep things stable.”

“Will you move in with me before it happens? I don’t want you to be alone in that studio with the stairs. I want to take care of you.”

“Slow down, there.” He chuckles. “It’s not a hovel. It’s a nice apartment. But the stairs are an issue.”

“So is the location,” I add. “If I ask you to move in, will you believe that it’s because I love you and not just because you buy the groceries?”

“Oh, Engels,” he laughs. “Tara made the last grocery run. Did you ask her to move in, too?”

“She’s not my type.”

He grins, and then he comes over to kiss me. “I believe you. I’d love to move in with you both. But you don’t need to take care of me.”

“I said Iwantedto. You’ve taken such good care of me. If you have the surgery while I’m still home on maternity leave, I can take care of you both at once.”