Page 99 of Somewhere Only We Know
Four Years Later
“Daddy!” I hear through my office door and smile at the greeting as three voices greet Nate. Soon after my sister announced she was expecting, Nate made it a goal to start having kids as soon as possible. It took us a while after I had my IUD removed and seeing the negative tests over and over, broke me. I almost told Nate I didn’t want to try for kids anymore because it was just another reason that I failed. He held me as I cried. Confused why we weren’t pregnant.
“Hey,Bee. If this is not our time, it’s not our time. We’ll keep trying.” Nate said to me after one of my many breakdowns over a negative test.
“But this is supposed to be the easy part,” I cry.
Nate rocks us back and forth on the hard bathroom floor. “Your body needs time to reset.”
I rememberthe days leading up so vividly. A production company finally approached me for my podcast, because they liked me and what I had been doing with my show. My numbers were better than ever and the guests I had sparked deeper conversations with those who tuned in weekly. But my joy was snuffed that next morning. My period was late again. Later than it had ever been and I was riding on cloud nine. I thought,finally. This is it! Because all I wanted since Nate and I got married was to have his babies. But the negative test staring back at me was like it was laughing at me. My husband, my caring and in-tune with my body husband, constantly assured me that it would take time for my body to regulate the hormones after having been on birth control for so long. Deep down I knew that. But when you get so many negatives, it’s hard to look for the positive.
Nate took control of everything. I always joked that he should’ve gotten a degree in women’s studies because I learned so much about my body from him that I finally stopped stressing over my set timeline to get pregnant. Well, he worked his magic because on vacation we conceived. Seeing a positive test after so many negatives, I was convinced I was hallucinating. And now we have three beautiful babies. My husband likes me pregnant and he’s very close to getting that fourth baby he talked about all those years ago if he keeps this up.
Sully paws at the door, begging to be let free. Her face is lightly coated in sugar-colored fur and her gait isn't as strong as it once was. But every time I’m in my office, she’s right by my side. I think she just wants a little slice of quiet from our lively bunch outside.
“Come on, Sully girl. Let’s go see Natey.” Her tail wags slowly and together we walk down the hallway to where chatter greets us.
“Hi, Miss Sully.” I hear Nate greet her.
Leaning on the threshold that leads into the living room, I see our son Samuel with his curly hair, tucked into Nate’s side as he holds the bottle for our daughter, Eden. Who doesn’t really need anyone to hold her bottle, but Nate has spoiled her. Our three month old, Ivy, is still asleep in her bassinet and won’t be up for hours. For a little one, she loves her sleep.
For a while I didn’t think this was possible. Before I gave Nate a second chance, I thought my time had run out. But this–my husband, my kids, it all felt like an illusion. This house I live in with a career that fills up every cup I hold out is the most real thing I could have ever wished for. I’m so grateful I let my sister drag me to that baseball game, because if I would have resisted, I would have missed out on my life with Nate.
EPILOGUE
“Every hour?” The flower shop owner questions on the other end of the line.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I hear the clacking of keys and I assume it’s her putting my order in in-advanced. My wife loves Valentine’s Day and I love my wife. Does that love veer on obsession most days? Absolutely. I’m obsessed with her drive, the way she is with our beautiful babies, how she manages her career and keeps the house afloat with the minimal amount of help we ask for, and I’m obsessed with the way she makes time for her friends. I love so many versions of Jax. The wife, the mother, the sister, the friend, and the godmother.
So here I am in January placing an order for a bouquet of roses, tulips, and sunflowers to be delivered to the house every hour. Will she want to strangle me? Yes. But as long as she does it in the bedroom, I won’t complain.
“Okay. I can send you the invoice to the email you provided me and you’re all set, Mr. Holloway.”
“Thank you, Evelyn.”
A towel hits me and covers my face when I hang up. “Jaxis going to kill you.” Bryce says from his spot at the squat rack.
“Kill me. Fuck me. Makes no difference to me.” I say and put my phone in the front pocket of my duffle bag.
Chance snorts from where he’s bench pressing. I try to be sympathetic and not rub my marriage in his face. Him and Sophie have been going through a rough patch. If by rough patch, I mean sleeping at mine or Bryce’s house more than his own home. I guess when you burn so bright in the beginning, the darkness seems like more of a nightmare.
He’s going into his fifteenth season playing and has decided that this will be his last. I can’t blame him for walking around with a chip on his shoulder. Losing baseball and possibly his wife? I’d be acting the same way. Although I’m not far behind him. But with baseball, not losing Jax. I did that once and would not survive a second time. We’re some of the oldest guys in the league. I now have four kids with the love of my life who are getting more and more active. Putting the school drop-offs and pick-ups, after school activities, and weekend tournaments on her is not us being equals in our marriage.
I told Jax that when I retire, I can’t wait to handle everything that she’s handled for the last five years. Plus, Samuel has been chomping at the bit to get me to coach his Little League team.
“Are you good, Chance?” I ask before moving onto the final round in our circuit.
He clears his throat and throws on a smirk that Bryce and I know is fake. “Yeah. All good.”
Bryce and I share a look before putting our heads down and finishing our workout.
An hour later we clean up and with an extendedgoodbye that our wives tease us over, I’m finally on the way home.
When it’s the weeks before spring training, with the house empty because the kids are at school, Jax and I have time to ourselves. Most of the time we find ourselves napping. Because with four kids under ten and in activities that keep the calendar busier than mine when I’m in season, Jax needs it. But with the community we have around us, in our friends and family that have decided to make the move up here, the workload lightens when a bat signal is sent out. Usually with a crying emoji or a plain “HELP!” text.
“Jaclyn?” I call out when I come in through the garage.
