I know that I got lucky. That Kyle is the best diet I ever broke.

I’ve dated a lot of jerks, but much like labor, they’ve all been lumped into a hazy pile of things that don’t matter in my brain. Because nothing before the life I’ve made with Kyle matters. He is my happily ever forever.

Epilogue

Daisy

“Can you wipe whatever that is off of Kellan’s face? My sister and her husband are on their way from the airport. I like to keep up the appearance that we know what we’re doing.”

“It’s jelly. And we do know what we’re doing.” Kyle’s rinsing out a children’s cup in the sink while Kellan uses the extendable ladder on his firetruck to transport what looks like a chicken nugget to Tubbs-McGee.

“It doesn’t look like we know what we’re doing when Kellan has dried jelly on his cheek and is feeding the cat a chicken nugget. Why on earth was he eating chicken nuggets with jelly? You know what? Never mind, I don’t need to know. We have more pressing issues to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“Kinsley wants a kitten.”

“Okay,” Kyle says easily, like a kitten is no big deal. It’s a big deal. A very big deal, it’ll change the household dynamic.

“Kyle. What if Tubbs-McGee doesn’t want a kitten? What if his feelings are hurt? What if Kinsley picks out a kitten that Tubbs-McGee hates and they never get along?”

“First of all, you said the same thing about Kellan when you were pregnant with Kinsley.”

It’s true, I did.

On cue, Kinsley dances up to Kellan and hugs him. Then she grabs the firetruck he was playing with and runs as fast as her three-year-old legs will move. Kellan stares in disbelief for half a second before he hollers and takes off after her. Panic ensues while I glare at Kyle.

“I don’t really know how to deal with this,” I tell him, throwing up my hands. “As you know, I was a very well-behaved child myself.” I manage to say this without a hint of irony and nary a smirk. My poor mother would dispute this, but she’s not arriving in town until tomorrow.

Kyle rolls his eyes and grabs Kinsley as she’s running past and plops her onto the countertop. Once he’s plucked the firetruck from her hands and handed it back to Kellan, he turns his attention to her.

“Kinsley, why did you take Kellan’s firetruck?”

“I wanted to play chase!” she shouts in glee, one tiny fist raised in the air as if she’s leading a revolution. She is. A revolution of chaos.

“Next time, ask Kellan to play tag instead of taking his things without asking. Okay?”

“I’m three!” Kinsley dissolves into a fit of giggles. Their joint birthday party is this weekend and she’s beyond excited about it. Yup, a joint birthday because Kellan and Kinsley are fifty weeks apart. I managed to get pregnant with Kinsley when Kellan was all of ten weeks old. What can I say? Kellan was a real good sleeper and I’m very attracted to my husband.

When Kinsley has recovered from the giggles Kyle sets her on the floor with instructions to apologize to her brother. A moment later they’re hugging and playing together, using the firetruck to rescue a herd of tiny plastic cats that Kinsley has collected.

“See?” Kyle tilts his head in their direction. “They adapted. Tubbs will adapt too.”

“Maybe.” I shrug.

“Besides, I think I saw a stray kitten near my office. It’ll all work out.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I’m shaking my head in bemusement when he pulls me in for a kiss. I melt against him for a moment because my husband is very good at kissing and I like doing kissing things with him very much. But then the pieces fall into place. “Wait.” I reluctantly tear myself away from his lips. “What does that kitten by your office look like?”

“It looks homeless, Daisy. Small and homeless.”

“Kyle.”

“She’s black and white. Somewhere around four months old.”

Uh-huh.

“You put Kinsley up to this!” I stab his chest with my fingertip. “You’ve already shown her a picture, haven’t you? She told me she wanted a moo kitty! She’s already named him Moo-McGee.”

“Moo-McGee.” Kyle laughs, the dimple in his left cheek flashing. Kellan has the same dimple and it kills me in the best possible way. He’s Kyle’s mini-me. Calm. Rational. Loves learning and abhors misbehaving. “She’s really clever for three, don’t you think? She gets that from you.” He goes in for another kiss. I stall him with a hand to his chest.

“Kyle.”

“Wifey.” Kyle’s hand slides low on my hip, keeping me close. And distracted.

“Where is the kitten?”

“At the clinic. Getting spayed and all the kitten shots. We don’t have to adopt Moo-McGee though. I’m sure I can locate a nice shelter to take her in, if you’re not interested.”

“You’re the worst,” I tell him, but I don’t mean it. Honestly the housekeeper is the one who should have a beef with Kyle, not me. She’s the one who scoops and vacuums most of the time. Yes, I’m spoiled, and I know it.

We moved to a ridiculously nice—and ridiculously large—house in the suburbs once Kinsley arrived. I felt a little princess-like about living in such a house, and not in a great way, but Kinsley’s bedroom has a window seat overlooking the backyard and Kellan’s has a balcony. Which is firmly locked for now, but he’ll enjoy it when he’s older. The entire place is decked out in dark hardwood floors with contrasting white woodwork and molding and it’s gorgeous. And there are plenty of extra bedrooms for guests—or more children. Plus there’s an entire in-law suite with a private entrance, which is great for Kerrigan until she’s ready to fly the coop. She’s getting her masters now, so she still stays with us during summers and holidays.

The doorbell rings and Kinsley takes off for the door, giggling in excitement. She’s my mini-me, which means she’s a handful. We’ve already had to install a second lock on the front door above her reach because she can and will open the door for anybody.

Kyle beats her to the door and heads outside to help Jennings with the luggage. Kinsley flings herself immediately at Violet’s legs because Violet’s carrying baby Amelia. Violet passes her over to me so she can scoop up Kinsley.

“Auntie Mommy!” That’s what Kinsley calls her. Kinsley started it and then Kellan followed and now she’s Auntie Mommy. It’s funny, because the kids can absolutely tell us apart, but they latched onto the fact that we are identical real fast.

“It’s my birthday,” Kinsley tells Violet, once she’s down on her feet again. Then she does a funky little dance move and my sister and I eye each other over her head, trying not to laugh.

“I have no idea where she learned that,” I tell Violet as Kinsley scampers out the front door. Most surely to find Uncle Jennings so she can ensure he too knows it’s her birthday.

I keep Amelia while Violet heads out to supervise because she smells like baby powder and I sort of miss the baby stage. Well, she’s fifteen months now, so more of a toddler than a baby, but she’s in that adorable chubby stage where she’s beginning to babble a lot and I feel very nostalgic holding her. And possibly wistful?