Page 55 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

“Jay, inspired by Jackson. But not as obvious as Jack.” I tell her. “I think that one I could support.”

“I like the sound of Jay,” says Amanda, but we’re not able to finish discussing the topic before we hit the living room and Bonnie calls us over to the grand piano. She’s already sitting on the bench, waiting for us.

Bonnie asks, “Come play with me, Dad!”

“I don’t know the song,” I warn her, but I take my seat all the same, flexing my fingers and then pressing them to the ivory keys.

Amanda stands nearby smiling at us. She keeps reaching up and rolling the ring between her fingers. Either Bonnie hasn’t noticed the glinting piece of jewelry, or she doesn’t realize what it means. I’ll have that talk with her tomorrow. For now, I just want to enjoy the moment.

“That’s okay. You’re smart. You’ll get it,” Bonnie says, smiling.

“Come sit with us.” I beckon Amanda over. When she’s close enough, I hook her around the waist and haul her down onto the bench at my side.

Amanda says, “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“You aren’t,” I promise. “Right, Bonnie?”

“Right,” Bonnie says. “You gotta learn about this if you’re gonna live here.”

She gives a sage nod and then runs through her finger stretches, before flexing them the way I did and setting them on the keys.

“Okay,” asks Bonnie, as seriously as an eight-year-old can manage. “You guys are gonna love this one.”

She starts to play, and I catch on fast enough, mostly because Idoknow the song. It’s just been years since I played it, and I’m rusty. Still, the music swells into the room, a concerto of two, playing in the late hours of the night.

I can’t help but think about how lucky I am to have both lovely ladies at my side—and Bonnie ends up being right.

I do love it.

I love it a lot.

Epilogue - Amanda

“Jackson,”Icallout.“Do you have the baby bag?”

Jay, our son, is almost a year old now. My engagement ring has been changed out for a wedding ring, one that Jackson sports a match for. He steps into the room, looking as dressed up as one would expect from a man about to go to an awards ceremony.

“It’s already in the car,” says Jackson. “I had Bonnie run it out for us.”

“You’re a peach.” I shift a little bit, so he can get a better look at Jay. “What do you think?”

A soft cotton shirt that has been designed to look like the top of a tuxedo has been pulled on him, along with a pair of soft, black cotton pants. Jay looks more and more like his father with each day that passes; the same eyes that I fell in love with years ago blinking up at us both.

“Handsome as can be,” Jackson says, bending down and giving Jay a kiss on the forehead. “And you look lovely.” He leans in and gives me a kiss, too. When he pulls back, he tugs at the black suit jacket that he’s wearing. “Is this too much?”

“It’s just enough,” I respond. “Where’s Bonnie?”

“Already waiting,” says Bonnie, from the front door. She’s hanging off the open handle, dressed up in my mother’s pearl necklace and a deep, burgundy dress. The skirt has so much tulle underneath it, it makes her look like a princess.

I can’t stop smiling. “Alright, so I’m the last one?”

Jackson takes Jay from me. “Go get your purse. We’ll meet you in the car.”

“Thank you.” I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and then go off in search of my purse; a little dark blue thing, to match the silver and midnight blue dress that I’m wearing. It’s sitting on the bathroom counter, my makeup still spread over the surface.

I shove my lipstick into the purse and sling the strap over my shoulder. As I’m turning to leave, I catch sight of an old pill bottle on the back of the counter.

It’s Jay’s.

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