Page 71 of The Holy Grail

Julian Douglas Lowe

“Oh, my God,” Jules said, at the sight of Paige shuffling around the room in a hospital gown so large, it would have fit Jabba the Hut. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be in bed after just having a baby?”

“Actually, the nurses want you up and walking around as soon as possible,” Paige explained, as she made her way to the bed and gingerly climbed back in it. “They’re pretty militant about it.”

“Jesus, that sounds barbaric,” Jules muttered, as she spotted David with the swaddled newborn in his arms, and immediately went over to take possession of the baby, not missing David’s reluctance to hand it over.

“I mean, give a new mom a second to rest, since you’re not going to get a good night’s sleep for the next eighteen years.

” Then, to the little boy who was staring up at her, she cooed, “Isn’t that right? ”

Making her way over to Paige’s bed, Jules sat down in the chair next to it. “I can’t believe you made this entirely new human. He’s adorable.”

“I made half of him, by the way,” David pointed out.

Jules ignored him, because did he think he deserved a medal or something for providing the sperm?

“Thanks,” Paige said to Jules .

Jules had so many questions, but she didn’t really know where to start, so decided the most obvious one was a good place. “Did it hurt?”

“What? Pushing a new human out of my body? No, not at all.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how much did it hurt?”

“Um, a thousand. He was apparently in a hurry to get out, so there wasn’t time for an epidural, which means I had him the old-fashioned, painful way.”

Jules flinched. “That sounds really awful,” she said, throwing David a frosty look over her shoulder.

“What? I drove here as fast as I could,” he said.

“He was also almost ten pounds,” Paige added. “So—”

“Oh, my God, really ?” Jules gave David another frosty look.

“Why are you blaming me for everything?” he wanted to know.

“Because even though you ‘made half of him’, you had the easy part, with zero suffering, and that’s just wrong.”

“I’ve changed every diaper today, and plan on changing many more in the future. Does that count as ‘suffering’?”

“A little. Are you planning on helping with night feedings, too?”

“I’m breast feeding,” Paige told her. “So, those will mostly be me. Unless I decide to … pump … which seems weird to me.”

“I’ll be getting up with her at every feeding, though, to keep her company,” David said.

“I think he likes to watch,” Paige whispered to Jules.

“What a pervert,” Jules whispered back.

“Jesus, I heard that,” David said. “And watching my beautiful wife breastfeed my son doesn’t make me a pervert. It makes me … a loving husband.”

“That’s what a pervert would say.”

Just then, the unmistakable smell of the baby having filled his diaper had Jules wrinkling her nose and quickly handing him off to David. “Time to change another diaper. And you’ll probably suffer through this one.”

Paige and Jules watched as David expertly changed the diaper and then re-swaddled the infant in his baby blanket in record time.

When he was done, Jules gave him a nod of approval. “You’re pretty good at that.”

“Thank you,” David said dryly. “It’s probably from changing a few of Jacob’s diapers.”

“And by a few, he really means all of them,” Paige told Jules in an aside.

“Knock, knock,” said Evan from the doorway .

He’d obviously come from the bar, as he was wearing one of the work shirts he hated (the ones with the new designs were arriving in a few days), and a pair of jeans.

His reddish-brown hair was slightly messy, as usual, curling around his ears and hanging over his forehead, pretty much as Jules had left it that morning after a quick round of sex.

In one hand was a bottle of champagne, which he set down on Paige’s bedside table.

After kissing the new mom on the cheek and telling her she looked amazing, then greeting Jules with a tilt of his head and a quick, flirtatious, “Hi, Jules,” which she hoped no one noticed, he made his way to David.

“So, this is the new Little Man,” Evan said, checking out the baby.

“Nice work,” he told David. “He looks just like you … except … I think he might have Cat Lady’s eyes. ”

“You don’t have to say that,” Paige said with a sigh. “I’ve already resigned myself to the fact I gave birth to another one of David’s clones. Apparently the Lowe genes are very strong.”

“No, I really think the baby has your eyes,” Evan insisted, before picking up the bottle of champagne and opening it like a pro.

“I heard through the grapevine you’re breastfeeding, but unfortunately, I didn’t hear that until after I was on my way here with this, so my apologies for not having something non-alcoholic you could drink for a toast. Or glasses, for that matter.

” He held the bottle up. “So, here’s to …

” he trailed off, glancing between David and Paige. “What’s the rugrat’s name?”

It was David who answered. “Julian Douglas. In honor of Jules,” he said with a nod in her direction, “and Paige’s father, Douglas.”

Upon hearing that, Jules’ eyes widened, then got suspiciously bright while sharing a long, emotion-filled look with Paige as they both remembered the night at Brews Brothers so long ago … and a deal that had been made in jest.

“I expect you to name your first child after me.”

“What if it’s a boy? Jules isn’t unisex.”

“Okay, your first daughter, then. You can name the rest of your kids whatever you want.”

“A daughter isn’t in the cards,” Paige said softly. “And Julian was as close as we could get to ‘Jules’.”

Jules sniffled several times and wiped at her watering eyes, which were becoming a little red.

“Just so you know, I’m not crying,” she told everyone, knowing Evan would be giving her hell later, before grabbing the bottle out of his hand and raising it high in the air to finish the toast. “To Julian fucking Douglas!” she said, then put the bottle to her lips and drank.