Epilogue
Two years later...
~Clare~
“Oh, God...why does this have to be happening now?” I said to myself as the double doors to the ER whooshed open, and I rushed to the counter.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” the attendant asked. Hmm, she looked vaguely familiar.
A feeling of deja vu swept over me. Her nametag read “Tammy” and I remembered the last time I’d seen her in this waiting room. The night I’d met Logan.
“Yes, I need to see a doctor. One doctor in particular,” I requested, but before I could continue she cut me off.
“Ma’am, you’ll just have to sign in and they will assign you a doctor when you get back there. You can’t request a doctor in the ER. We aren’t a doctor’s office,” she said, her voice filled with annoyance.
Don’t kill the nurse, Clare.
Breathe in, breathe out. Isn’t that what they teach you to do?
“I don’t think you understand. My name is Clare Matthews. My husband is Logan Matthews.”
Her face quickly changed from annoyed to pleasant as she said, “Oh, I’m sorry Mrs. Matthews. I can page him. Is there anything you’d like me to tell him?”
“Yes, please,” I said, feeling another wave of pain take over. “Can you let him know I’m in labor?”
~Logan~
I ran my hands through my hair, trying not to let the exhaustion take over. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but I remembered what it felt like to run my hands over my head and feel nothing. Clare said I looked sexy, and I had to admit, it wasn’t a bad look if you took away the black bags under my eyes and the yellowish skin. I don’t know how the women who went through chemo handled it. Men weren’t nearly as attached to their hair. But I did love having it back, feeling Clare run her hands through it, tugging on it as we made love.
They always said going through something life-altering like cancer made you appreciate the little things in life, and that was true. But it also made you appreciate the larger ones as well, like family, friends and being able to wake up in the morning. There were mornings I would wake up and just lay there staring at her, so grateful she stayed. There were rough days. Hell, there were rough months, but we pulled together as a family. I eventually shed my last layer of ice, and allowed my mother to become part of our family. Not that I had much of a choice. After meeting “Grandma Cece” in New York, Maddie insisted that she visit, and that was that. As always, Maddie knew what was best for our family.
When Clare said yes to my exam room marriage proposal, we didn’t waste any time. Our St. Thomas summer vacation turned into an impromptu wedding. We flew our family and friends out, renting out a small resort for the occasion. It was intimate and beautiful, and Maddie thought we threw the entire event in honor of her birthday. After the wedding, we decided two houses was one more than we needed, and sold her house. I told her we didn’t need to, that I would gladly sell mine. But she was adamant, saying we needed a fresh start with new memories. Watching her pack up the house she’d shared with Ethan was difficult. I felt like I was taking him out of her life, but she insisted it was just a house, and he would always live on. We still went to the cemetery each year, placing shells on his grave, and we made sure to keep photos of him scattered throughout the house so Maddie never forgot the man who gave her life.
The day they told me there were no signs of cancer left, and I was in remission, I thought my life was complete. I had everything I needed. I had my health back, the love of my life at my side, and a daughter who thought I was a super hero. Clare went back to work at one of the local high schools, and we started our life as a normal family. Finally.
About a month later, I came home to a silent house. I called out for Maddie. No answer. I called out for Clare, no answer. I finally found her in the master bathroom, curled up on the floor crying. I rushed to her fearing the worse. But she just handed me a positive pregnancy test, smiling, with tears of joy running down her face. They had told us it may not be possible after the chemotherapy. But it happened for us. Turned out my life was far from complete. It was just beginning.
“Paging Dr. Matthews, Paging Dr. Matthews,” filled the airwaves. I picked up the nearest phone and dialed the extension listed with the page.
“Hi, this is Dr. Matthews. I was paged.”
“Hi, Dr. Matthews. This is Tammy from the front desk. Your wife is here, and we’re currently checking her in through L&D. She wanted to let you know she’s in labor.”
“F*ck!” I shouted, before taking off in a sprint for the waiting room.
~Clare~
“He’s beautiful,” Leah cooed as I watched my husband hold our new son for the first time. He’d been a father since the moment he laid eyes on Maddie, but there was always something special about seeing a new father, no matter how many times around.
I chuckled to myself, remembering the sight of Logan in his scrubs, barreling down the hall, and throwing the double doors open to the ER. You would think a doctor, especially one trained in trauma would be calmer. But I guess every new father was entitled to his moment of crazy, even a doctor.
He had check me over from head to foot even though I assured him I was perfectly fine.
They escorted us to Labor and Delivery, and five seconds later, an attractive blonde nurse walked in. Apparently Leah wasn’t going to let anyone else near her godson, or goddaughter. We decided to leave the sex of the baby a mystery, driving everyone crazy. With everything that we had gone through over the last two years, having a little mystery that wasn’t a dire circumstance was nice.
Once I was hooked up to the monitors and given some medication for the pain, Logan was able to relax and play the role of expectant father, for the most part. He still watched the monitors like a hawk and checked my vitals more than necessary. When our son was delivered, all notions of being a doctor were dropped and Logan became a father to our child instantly. Seeing him cut the cord and running his hand down the baby’s tiny cheek made me proud to call him my husband.
There was a knock at the door, and Maddie entered, proudly displaying the “Big Sister” shirt Grandma Cece had bought her. My parents hung back in the hallway, giving Maddie a few minutes with us before entering. I knew the wait must be killing them. Seeing the blue bundle in Logan’s arms, she stopped short and frowned.
“It’s a boy?”
I winced, knowing she had really been hoping for a girl. Well, there’s always next time I guess.
“Yes, you have a brother. Is that okay?” I asked
She was silent for second, before she said “Yeah, I guess so. Boys can dance, right Daddy?”
As soon as we told Maddie we were getting married, her first question was whether she could call Logan “Daddy.” He’d broken down in tears, pulling her into his arms. It brought a smile to his face to this day to hear her say it.
“Uh. Sure, princess. But he might want to do something else. Like play guitar like me. Or football like Uncle Colin,” Logan suggested.
“Hmmm, well I don’t know about football, but he could play the guitar! He can play music, and I can dance!” she exclaimed with excitement.
Problem solved. No problem was ever too great for a child.
“Hey, does my baby brother have a name?” she asked.
Logan and I smiled, looking at each other. It was a name we both decided on a long time ago.
“We thought we’d name him Ethan. Ethan Oliver Matthews.”
“I like that name. Daddy would like that name.”
“We think so, too.”
Ethan knew me better than I knew myself. He gave me the push I needed when I was scared to take a risk. But with love, the risk is always worth it.
Some love stories begin with a chance encounter in an emergency room.
Others start in a crowded bar, with a heated gaze and a one-night stand.
Never Been Ready
The Second Novel in The Ready Series.
Coming Soon...
Acknowledgements
A while back, I had this crazy idea to write a book. Many months later, after pouring my heart and soul into this novel, there are so many to thank. It may have been my crazy idea to start with, but without the support of my family, friends and special people I met along the way, it would have never been ready.
First of all, I have to thank my husband, Chris. He’s always there for me, whether it’s taking care of the kids so I can write, or being my sounding board for new ideas. You are my rock, babe. I also have to thank my children and official cheerleaders. They are so proud of Mommy, even though they have no idea what it is that I wrote. All they know is “Mommy wrote a book!” If they only knew.
Words cannot express how grateful I am for the family I have. I am so incredibly thankful for my parents, big brother and sister in-law, and huge extended family. A very special thank you goes to my BFF Leslie. I don’t need to say why, she knows. Thank you to Megan Peterman for taking the time to offer wisdom and support.
One huge thank you to my editor, Lisa Shalek for never blowing smoke up my ass and always keeping it real. Your expertise is golden. A big thanks to my cover designer, Literra Designs for putting up with my constant emails. Thanks to all of my beta readers who gave such wonderful feedback. Lisa Filipe - you are amazing and go above and beyond always. I have been so lucky to be surrounded by such amazing bloggers, especially Jenny and Gitte from TotallyBooked - thank you for your awesome support.
And lastly, thanks to the fans, who have supported me from the very beginning.