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Tobie

Four Years Later

“Tobie, have you seen?—”

“Next to the front door!” I yell at Caleb. “Can you ask?—”

“Got it,” Javier interrupts. “And Reid is here already.”

“Just waiting on you now, beautiful,” Reid calls back. “Do you need help?”

“No. I’m okay.” I carefully make my way down the stairs, one hand on the banister for balance since the last time I saw my ankles was a month ago.

I come within sight of three of the most beautiful men in the world, carrying so many bags as they stand beside the front door, I can’t help but grin. “That is an excessive number of bags for a two-week trip.”

A muscle in my lower back twinges, and I wince. Before I can make the last steps down, Caleb drops his bag, stalks over, and scoops me into his arms. “Come here, Myers.”

“I told you I could walk.”

He kisses me. “You are the mother of our child. You don’t need to walk when you have us.”

Because I’m seven months pregnant, and my ankles are getting swollen, I don’t argue. I just accept his help. Swollen ankles won’t be a problem for much longer because we’re going to be spending the next two weeks on a beach in Hawaii, our last vacation before we welcome baby number two.

Matilda Graves-Boucher-Duarte spent her first night away from us last night, and between my backaches and worry about her, I don’t think any of us slept well.

My master’s was rewarding and exciting but exhausting. So was the guys’ rookie year in the NHL. We bounced between Michigan and Virginia, determined to see each other every chance we got.

It was hard, but we did it.

All of that was nothing compared to teaching, running a household, and going to as many of the guys’ hockey games as I could manage while pregnant.

Then I started feeling nauseous after eating strawberries, the telltale sign I was pregnant again.

Caleb, Reid, Javier, and I talked about whether I would keep working or stay at home.

Initially, Javier suggested a housekeeper and nanny because I was still so set on teaching.

But what I want isn’t to hire a nanny, though I’m enormously lucky that we can afford to do that.

I love to teach, but I want to be a stay-at-home mom, at least for the next little while.

I meet Caleb’s eyes as he carries me out to the car. “Do you think she missed us as much as we missed her?”

Reid and Javier carry our bags to the car.

“Your dad would have brought her home if she’d been too upset,” Reid says.

Javier kisses my forehead. “I’m sure she had fun with Grandpa.”

It’s a short drive to Dad’s house.

He moved to Virginia to be closer to us when Matilda was born. I thought he would live in Lawrenceburg forever, but he said his heart was here, so he moved.

As we pull up to the three-bedroom house fifteen minutes away, my dad is standing in the doorway, holding our thirteen-month-old little girl.

Telling them I was pregnant— learning I was pregnant—will forever go down as one of the happiest days in my life.

Biologically she is Caleb’s, but she owns all our hearts.

Matilda giggles and points as Reid parks outside the house. Javier helps me out. Caleb is there first, arms stretched out to take her. I’m not even sure Caleb sees my dad. He only has eyes for Matilda.

“Hey, little darling. Come to Daddy.”

“How was last night?” I ask Dad, stroking Matilda’s back and kissing her soft, light brown hair as Caleb holds her.

I was right when I said he had a soft and squishy inside, and he doesn’t even try to hide it now. At least, not when he’s on land. On ice, he’s one of the NHL’s biggest scorers, and no one can touch him.

But it’s not just Caleb who is untouchable. It’s the West Virginia Raiders. They won the Stanley Cup a couple of years ago, came second the following year, and it looks like they’re going to win it again this year.

Reid, Javier, and Caleb are still the Magic Three, and they are still making magic on the ice.

“She missed you, but I distracted her with crayons,” Dad says.

“Easily replaced with crayons? Ouch .” Reid winces and takes her with a grin when Caleb passes her to him. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Javier slides his arm around my waist. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to Hawaii with us, Bruce?”

Dad shakes his head. “This vacation is for you. And…”

I eye my dad closely, wondering at his slightly pink cheeks. “Are you blushing ?”

“Of course not,” he denies, blushing even harder when a woman calls out, “Good morning, Bruce. See you at bridge tonight.”

My eyes bounce between my dad and the woman in her forties, getting into her car.

A grin is making my cheeks hurt.

“Now stop that. She’s just being a good neighbor,” Dad says.

“Of course she is.” Javier takes Matilda from Reid and kisses her forehead. “If you want to stay here and be a good neighbor to her, we’ll bring you something nice from Hawaii.”

“Just photographs,” Dad says, his eyes straying to the dark gray sedan disappearing down the road. “Lots of photographs that I can put in the album.”

Maybe it’s wishful thinking to hope he’s found love, but I want Dad to be as happy as we are. To have someone to share his life and his love with. He deserves it.

“You ready to get out of here, Gatinha ?” Javier asks me as he passes a giggly Matilda to me.

Our daughter’s first vacation. Our last vacation as a family of five. And the continuation of a life even happier than the last four years have been.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

The End