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“Look, you’re carrying my baby. My baby. My flesh and blood. Your contribution is growing that baby and caring for him or her. I will do whatever I can when I’m here, but you understand me and you know there will be a whole lot of time when I can’t be here. The very least I can do is take care of the three of you financially.”
We stare off for a few beats, and then I smile. “Well, when you put it that way…”
He laughs, and he pulls me into his arms. His lips collide with mine, and I can’t help but sigh softly into him.
I don’t think it gets much better than this.
CHAPTER 22: LINCOLN
The first morning with Jolene and Jonah in our home together is pure magic.
I wake with Jolene in my arms.
I watch the dinosaur part on Minions with Jonah no less than twenty-seven times.
He gets ready for school while I make pancakes.
I know Jonah will eventually outgrow the minions. I know eventually we’ll add another voice to our happy brood, and maybe one or two more after that.
I know there will be missteps and mistakes and miscommunication.
But I also know that this is nothing short of pure bliss, and what I already knew is just confirmed. This is how I want our life to be. Always.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me, Mom,” I say later in the afternoon. “After I get her dad on board, anyway.”
“Oh, Lincoln,” she says, and I can hear how choked up she is over the phone. “I’m so happy for you. How’d you win her back?”
“I just did what any man should do for his lady,” I say.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I made sure she knew she and her son came first in my life.” I smile at the new framed photo sitting on my desk of Jolene and Jonah. I swiped it from her house when I was helping them pack, and every time I look at it, a sense of hope blossoms in my chest.
“I always knew you’d make a great husband…and father,” she says, and I feel myself getting choked up now over her words.
But there were two reasons for this call today. One, to tell her I’m going to propose to Jolene…and two, to find out if my suspicions are true.
“Can I ask you a, um…difficult question?” I begin, and I draw in a breath.
“Sure,” she says, and she sounds a little hesitant.
“I’m not quite sure how to ask what I want to know, so I guess I’ll just start by saying I always felt like Dad treated me differently than Gray, Spence, and Ash. I got to thinking about it the other day when Jolene and I were talking and she said something offhand about how she can’t believe I’m related to someone like him. And it made me think…what if I’m not? What if that’s why he always treated me differently than my brothers?”
My mom is silent on the other end of the line.
“So my question is…am I?”
She remains silent a few beats, and then she clears her throat softly. “Are you what?”
“Am I related by blood to Edward Nash?”
She lets out a soft sigh. “I don’t know,” she finally admits.
“You don’t…you don’t know?” I repeat. My eyes fall back to the framed photo on the desk. I concentrate on their laughter—laughter so strong I can feel radiating from the photo.
“No, honey. I don’t know. We were young, and it was kind of a different time. We’d been together all through high school, and I thought we’d end up together…until he decided he wanted to see what else was out there, so he broke up with me. After he had his fun, and I had mine, we ended up back together. A couple months later, I found out I was pregnant. He asked me to marry him, and then you came along, and we just always assumed you were his.”
“But you never knew for sure,” I say flatly.
