Page 90 of Accepted Precedent
“Sorry, babe. It’s federal law—it has to be thirty days before the procedure.”
“What’s the point in being best friends with three Senators?” she grumbles. “You know I’m just going to get pregnant again.”
I startle as Mick taunts from behind me, “Aye, that you are.”
“Damn it, Mick. You scared the shit out of me.”
The nurse continues her examination, and hesitantly asks, “Which one of you is the father?”
“He is,” Mick and I say in unison. I quickly correct, “I am, but he’ll be there for the birth. I, uh, have to set up the nursery.”
The nurse’s eyes dart between the three of us. “Right. Okay. Well, I’m going to get her set up in one of the suites as requested. You two will need to wait in the lounge until she’s hooked up tothe fetal monitors. Should only be about ten minutes.” She turns to Evie. “Are you still wanting a cesarean?”
“They’re huge! I can’t wrap my arms around my belly. There’s no way in hell I’m going to push them out vaginally.”
“You can try, if you’d like. Up to you.”
“No. That might be great for other women, but I don’t love that journey for me.”
I stand and kiss Evie on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Oh, and don’t forget aboutthe thingwe talked about.”
“How could I forget?” I wink and grip Mick’s forearm for a moment, nodding once in solidarity.
I leave as casually as I can manage, but once I hit the hallway I begin power-walking toward the entrance. We don’t have much time. I can only hope Finn is already headed to Mick’s to get everything ready, or we’ll never pull this off.
Chapter 39
Mickey
Ican’t remember a time in my life where my heart felt this full. Grandad promised Finn and me the American dream, but after years of sacrificing my own happiness, it no longer felt within reach. Until I saw Evie cradling our two perfect children. They’re mine—all of them.
Grace looks just like her mother, but with strawberry-blonde hair and green eyes. Brandon, on the other hand, will be harder to pass off as Andrew’s as he gets older. I’m sure the twins will question it at some point, and we’ll have to tell them the truth—but it’s a problem for another day.
I pack up Evie’s hospital bag and change the babies before we head out, then Andrew wheels Evie to the car while I follow with the buggy. Once we’re settled in the SUV, Andrew drives us home, and I keep Evie’s hand firmly in mine as she rests her head on my shoulder. The twins are fast asleep in the 3rd row, and I can’t help shutting my eyes for a few minutes.
“We’re here,” Andrew announces, waking me from my short nap.
My eyes take a few seconds to adjust, but we aren’t at their house. We’re at mine. “What’s going on?” I ask through a yawn.
Evie stretches as she wakes. “Oh, good, we’re here. Andy and I have something to show you.”
Andrew and I take the babies out of their car seats, and Brandon nestles into me as we walk into the house. There’s a faint smell of something woodsy, and maybe paint or paint thinner, the farther we move into the house.
Aisling is in the kitchen, kneading dough in a large glass bowl. “You’re early. I was hoping to have this ready for tonight, but time escaped me. I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.”
“Last set of stretch and folds?” Evie asks, and Aisling nods. “I can finish for you. Do you happen to know if everything is done?”
“Oh, I’m nearly finished, but thank you. And Mr. Gallagher assured me it was all taken care of before he left.”
“Thank you so much.” Evelyn hugs Aisling, and while she’s an affectionate person, Aisling isn’t, but is welcoming the embrace. It’s suspicious, but I shrug it off.
“Mick, we have a surprise to show you.” He leads the way to the spare bedroom next to the master, pausing for a moment before opening it. Evie flicks on the light, and the queen-size bed that’s normally on the opposite wall is gone, replaced by two dark wooden cribs. The walls are now a beautiful moss green—just like Evie wanted.
“I don’t understand,” I mutter, mostly to myself.
“Evie’s moving in with the babies,” Andrew explains, and a lump forms in my throat. “These children deserve to be raised by their real parents.”
