Page 136 of Pregnant in Plaid
"Our kids?" she asks. "Plural?"
"If you want. Someday. When we're ready."
Brooklyn stirs, makes a sleepy sound, and settles back against my chest.
"I want that too," Patrice says quietly. "All of it. The marriage, the partnership, the growing old together. The embarrassing our kids."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a 'you better get me an actual ring and do this properly.'"
"Done. I'll get a ring. We'll do it right. Fall wedding?"
"Fall wedding," she agrees. "Small. Just family and friends. Nothing fancy."
"Like Tessa and Gage's."
"Exactly like that."
"I can work with that."
Tessa makes a sound that's somewhere between a squeal and a sob. "You're getting married!"
"We literally just decided this thirty seconds ago," Patrice points out.
"And I'm already planning the bachelorette party."
"Please don't."
"Too late. I'm thinking tasteful but fun. Maybe a wine night? Or a spa day? Or?—"
"Tessa," Gage interrupts gently. "Let them have a minute."
"Right. Yes. Sorry. I'm just so happy for you guys." She wipes her eyes. "My best friend and my husband's best friend are getting married. Brooklyn gets two parents who are married. This is perfect."
Six months ago, I was chopping wood and panicking about becoming a father. Now I'm sitting by a lake, Brooklyn asleep on my chest, Patrice's hand in mine, planning a wedding I never thought I'd want. Gage is right there making fun of my quinoa consumption, and Tessa's already planning a bachelorette party.
I wouldn't change a single thing.
"What about more kids?" I ask, because apparently I'm on a roll today. "You said plural."
Patrice laughs. "Let's get through the wedding first." She pauses, looking at Brooklyn. "But someday. I want Brooklyn to have siblings."
"Someday sounds perfect."
"Someday sounds terrifying," she corrects. "But also perfect."
Brooklyn wakes up then, realizes she's missing out on attention, and demands to be the center of the universe again. Patrice takes her, tickles her stomach until she giggles, and I watch them together—my daughter and the woman I'm going to marry—and think about the future.
More kids someday. More chaos, more sweet potato in my hair, more three AM diapers and tiny clothes that cost a fortune. More of Patrice laughing while Brooklyn tries to eat something she shouldn't. More moments exactly like this one.
"You're staring again," Patrice says.
"Can't help it. You're both really cute."
"We know."
Brooklyn reaches for me, and I take her back, and the five of us sit by the lake—soon to be six with Tessa and Gage's baby on the way—and talk about nothing and everything.
