Page 44 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

I don’t know how he’s going to top this one

It’s been two weeks since Noah was born, and every single minute has been amazing.

Except the sleepless nights. We thought because of how well he was sleeping the first few days after he was born that meant he would be a good sleeper once we got home.

Sadly, that was not the case. Just like every other infant, he wakes every couple of hours.

Even so it’s been perfect. We take turns although I am usually needed when he’s hungry since Warren can’t very well breastfeed him. Wouldn’t that be awesome though if he could? I carry for nine months and give birth, but he has to breastfeed. Seems like a fair trade to me.

Last night was Warren’s turn, and I feel somewhat rested today.

Which doesn’t explain why Warren also seems alert and energized.

I would have expected him to be dead on his feet this morning like other mornings after a late night up with Noah.

But no, he’s smiling with bright eyes and a strange bounce to his step as he exits our room fresh from the shower. I eye him suspiciously.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Oh nothing. Just a surprise.”

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“Now if I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?”

Warren crosses the living room and unbuckles Noah from his baby bouncer on the floor. With practiced motions he scoops him up, supporting his neck, and cradles him to his chest and shoulder. It’s a sight I never grow tired of seeing.

When we first got home Warren handled Noah like a live grenade, gentle and cautious and a little frightened. It’s nice to see he’s grown comfortable with holding him, no longer afraid of dropping him.

“Come on. Let’s go,” he says, crossing to gather Noah’s diaper bag.

“Go? Go where?”

I stand from the couch where I was reading and follow him.

“To your surprise.”

I do love a good surprise, but where could he be taking us that would be a surprise in this town? I’ve lived here my whole life and have seen and been everywhere.

“Okay,” I giggle. “Are we going to be gone long?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how much you love my surprise. Which will be a lot. So maybe.”

I laugh more. He’s such a goober sometimes. But I don’t question him. His surprises are usually amazing, so I’ll go with it.

We strap Noah into his carrier and head for his truck. My car still doesn’t meet Warren’s standards of safety to drive around a baby in. I don’t think it ever will. We’ll probably need to sell it soon and buy something more reliable and maybe a decade newer.

“Here,” Warren holds out a bandana to me and I stare at it. “Put this on. I don’t want you to see where we’re going till we get there.”

“Ooh big surprise huh? Okay.”

I take the bandana and tie it around my eyes. Warren double checks it’s in place before I hear the truck engine turn over and feel the movement of the truck pulling out of the parking space behind the store.

While he drives, I try to figure out where we’re going based on turns but I’m horrible at estimating distance, so when we do turn I have no idea what street we’re on.

It only takes ten minutes to get where we’re going, and I can tell we’re on a gravel road and am now completely confused as to where we are.

“Where are we?” I ask, no longer able to wait patiently.

“You’ll see. Just wait.”

“How much longer?”

“Just…a few…seconds…and…we’re here!” He draws out his words until the truck stops when he proclaims our arrival.

“Can I take this off now?” I ask, reaching up to the bandana around my eyes.

“No!” Warren’s hand reaches over and stills mine, stopping me from removing the blind fold. “I’ll come over and get you, you just wait.”

I can hear him moving around and unbuckling Noah from his car seat between us but wait patiently as instructed. A giddy feeling bubbles in my chest in anticipation. I wonder what it could be. A new car? A romantic day on the water in the Knotty Boy ? With Warren it could be anything.

My passenger door opens, and Warren’s strong hand reaches in and unbuckles me then grasps my hand. I let him guide me and slide out of the truck. My feet land with a thud on the gravel I knew we were driving on. It’s quiet and I can’t hear any movement or noise around us other than our own.

“Where are we Warren?”

Warren just chuckles and guides me by the hand. My other hand extends out reaching to make sure I don’t run into anything.

“There’s nothing you’re going to run into or any steps. You’re safe Bambi, trust me.”

“I do trust you. It’s just a natural reaction to being suddenly blinded.”

We don’t walk very far and just like he said there are no stairs and I don’t run into anything. We’re no longer walking on gravel. Now there is short grass and dirt under foot.

Warren drops my hand, and I sense him moving but have no idea what he could possibly be doing.

“Now can I take off the blind fold?” I ask again.

He’s quiet for a moment then responds. “Okay, you can take it off now.”

The bandana is finally gone, and my eyes adjust to the light with bright spots and blurry images until everything finally comes into focus.

In front of me…is the hangout house. Strange.

This is not where I expected to be. But there’s something different about it.

It’s cleaner. The grass has been mowed, the massive weeds that were growing around the porch are gone, the garbage that cluttered a few areas of the yard has been removed.

Even the boards on the windows have been removed.

The house itself is still in disrepair and looks as it always did. Except for the blue bow stuck to the front door.

My head tilts from side to side as I inspect the house and try to figure out why we’re here and what the surprise is. Turning to Warren at my side I find him watching me carefully. A tentative smile on his lips as he holds our son in one arm, his little head resting on his shoulder.

“What are we doing here?”

“This is your surprise.”

I look back at the house still confused. “What is?”

“The house.”

“The house?”

“It’s ours. I bought it. For us.”

“You…?”

My brain must be sluggish because I don’t understand at first, but the longer we stare at each other the pieces finally fall into place. He bought the house for us. We have a house.

I turn back to look at the house we’ve all known since high school and in my mind I can see it transforming.

Peeled paint smoothed over with fresh colors, broken windows made whole and lit from within.

The yard is green and lined with flowers.

But the best part of all is the image of us in that yard running and playing with Noah. Laughter ringing out in my fantasy.

I always loved this house. Always knew it could be more than the abandoned house teenagers graffitied. Now it will be.

“Do you like it?” Warren asks softly from my side.

“I love it.” tears well in my eyes as I continue to stare at the house that will soon be our home. “But how could you afford it?”

Facing him once again his smile is wider, and he shrugs the shoulder not doubling as a pillow to our son.

“I sold my boat.”

“You sold the Knotty Boy ? But you love that boat.”

That boat was his safe haven, his refuge and safe space to be himself and escape his father. That boat is the one and only thing he’s ever fought for, ever wanted and loved.

“I love you more. I love Noah more. It’s just a boat Bambi and we both know we can’t live on it with a baby, especially when I want more.”

I’m too stunned to speak. Unable to comprehend the sacrifice he’s just made for us and our family so we can have a home. A place to grow and create memories in.

A boat is mobile, a way for Warren to remain unattached and free from solidifying himself anywhere.

For him to give it up means a lot. He’s giving up his ability to leave, his ability to escape and be free.

He’s putting the final nail in his foundation here in Homer.

His final way to prove to me this is what he wants and he’s not going anywhere.

“Thank you,” I manage through watery eyes and the frog in my throat.

“There’s one more thing.”

There’s more? I don’t know how he’s going to top this one.

Warren circles to face me, th e _ our house behind him, Noah still quietly cooing in his arm. The image almost has me bursting out in hysterical tears and joyous laughter. But I hold in my reaction waiting for this even better surprise.

In one swift motion Warren lowers to one knee and pulls a small velvet box from behind his back.

My heart almost stops in my chest as he single-handedly opens the box to reveal a ring.

A ring I recognize. Gigi showed it to me years ago and told me one day she would give it to the man she approved of for me.

Which is how I know he has her blessing.

The large natural pearl sits nestled in a beautifully handmade filigree, the ring over a hundred years old and worn by my ancestors. Modern times may not be as set in tradition as it once was, but I’m glad that this one thing has survived throughout the generations.

I’m so focused on the ring and its significance I almost miss Warren’s words.

“I love you, Bambi. I may have been a stupid kid and done a number of stupid things, including leaving last year. But I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson and come to my senses.

I want nothing more than to plant my roots right here with you.

To grow our family and then grow old in this house, reminiscing of our youth spent vandalizing our home not knowing one day it would be the place where you would make me the happiest man in the world.

Will you marry me? Let me call you wife and have many more babies with me? Please?”

I think it’s the please that breaks me. A tear-filled watery laugh bursts from my chest and I fall into his embrace, careful of Noah, and wrap my arms around his neck as best I can.

“Is that a yes?” His voice is muffled, and it sounds like he’s laughing too.

I lean back and press a hard kiss to his lips speaking directly into them. “That’s a yes.”

“Good because I don’t know what I would do with this house if you said no.”

Another laugh escapes me and I kiss him again, my hands cupping his scruffy jaw. “You really think I would say no after tattooing your name on my ass?”

“I hoped not, but I’ve been wrong before.”

“That you have, but I think you’re finally starting to get it right.”

“Me too.”

He stands and holds the ring between us, fumbling with it to get it out while still holding Noah. I help him out, taking the velvet box and holding my left hand out for him to slide the ring onto my finger.

“Now there’s no question you’re mine,” he states.

“I was always yours. You just didn’t know it.”

His free arm circles my back and pulls me into his chest, cradling me and our son against his chest. A soft kiss presses against my hair as I not so subtly wipe my eyes on his dark shirt.

“I think I did, I was just too afraid and thick headed to admit it.”

“Well, I’m glad you finally realized it.”

“I think what I realized was that I would do anything for you because you own me. After that I just decided you would be mine too.”

I laugh at his corny ridiculously. I don’t care anymore how we came together, only that we did.

“Come on wife, let me show you around our new house. I think I know the perfect place to build you a library.”

I pull back shocked and admittedly excited.

“Really?”

“Of course. I’ll even build you one of those window seats you’re always going on about.”

We walk inside and Warren shows me all the clean-up he’s done so far. Mainly taking out all the trash and sweeping, laying down a few boards of plywood where there were holes in the floor to make sure we don’t fall through.

He points to the graffiti and tagging explaining how we can paint over it or cover it with wallpaper, whichever I want. Listing the things that need to be done to repair the old home. The list is long but once it’s done it’ll be our perfect home.

When we reached the stairs, we stop to stare at all the engraved names and dates, some of them our own.

“We can sand these out or replace the wood completely if you like,” Warren suggests.

I look over the years of generations that have passed through this house and what it meant to all of them. Removing giant penises and painting over spray paint is one thing, but sanding away the engravings seems wrong somehow.

“What if we didn’t?” I say.

“Didn’t what?”

“Remove the stairs or the carvings. What if we preserved it? Like a monument to the years this house was the hangout house. Besides, our names are carved up there too.”

Warren looks at the stairs and considers it. Thankfully no one was ever skilled enough to carve pornographic images into the wood. It’s all names and dates and hearts mostly.

“Okay. I think that’s a great idea. I’m sure we can figure out a way to preserve it.”

We wander through the rest of the house discussing which rooms will be which. Deciding on building my library in the den space with the stained glass over the entryway. There are plenty of rooms in the old house to have a handful of kids and not run out of room.

I picture that, our future, and how many children we may have together.

The birthday parties and bar-be-ques we’ll have here.

I picture Gigi sitting in a rocking chair on the porch sipping iced tea and the gaggle of children Warren wants running around in the yard, aunt Izzy and Uncle Owen chasing after them.

The dream is one I never expected but can’t wait to get started on.