Page 12 of The Cowboy's Witchy Second Chance
Alona pouts and hugs her friend.
“I hate that you are leaving, too. I’ve loved having you here.”
“You know, I think that maybe Corvid Valley is where I should hang up my hat next.”
My girlfriend shrieks, making Dinah and me crack up, as she jumps up and down.
“Do it! That would be so amazing!”
Alona’s excitement clearly makes Dinah feel good, shown by the smile she beams at her.
“Maybe I will.”
Corvid Valley gets a decent amount of snow the week before Christmas, so Alona and I decide to have a cozy day at home. I cook up my famous chili that she adores on days like this, but when she walks into the kitchen, she immediately runs back out.
“Al?”
I walk out into the living room and hear her throwing up in the powder room.
“Babe? Are you OK?”
The toilet flushes, and Alona walks out, confusion coloring her face.
“I don’t know where that came from, but the spices made me feel sick.”
“Weird.”
We stare at each other for a long moment and then I say, “I’m going to the drugstore. Stay out of the kitchen.”
Alona’s eyes go wide and she nods knowingly.
They plowed the roads, making my drive to the drugstore easy. I pick up a few items we need, plus a pregnancy test. On the way home, I tell myself to act cool no matter what the results end up being. But the idea of having a baby with the love of my life thrills me. Especially at our age, since I thought it wasn’t even possible.
Alona grabs the shopping bag from me as soon as I step into the house and goes into the bathroom. The toilet flushes, and she walks out. I give her an expectant look.
“Three minutes.” She says.
I pull her close to me and stroke her hair as we wait. Her smart watch timer goes off, so she goes back into the bathroom. A second later, my love stands in the doorway, eyes huge.
“We’re pregnant, Ford.”
Tears flow from my eyes as I pick her up, twirling her in the air.
“This is amazing.” I say, as I kiss her, my tears falling onto her beautiful, smiling face.
Epilogue
Alona
Standing in front of our friends and family, Ford and I say our vows to one another. Gavin, our 9-month-old, is getting restless while being held by Dinah, my bridesmaid. I turn and scoop him into my arms. The best man, Amos, makes silly faces at the baby to make him laugh.
Ford, Gavin, and I turn toward the officiant, who grins at the baby and continues with his last words.
“You may kiss the bride.”
The guests burst into cheers as Ford pulls me close with baby Gavin nestled between us and kisses me. We turn and face the room to a raucous roar.
If keeping my great aunt’s farm was part of a midlife crisis, then it was the best midlife crisis I could have ever had.
