he mans the cash box, I clap my stepson on the back. “I’ve been at this for almost three decades, and Mimi E still hasn’t let me stop. So, when you figure out how to sweet talk your way out of this one, let me know.”
My mom chuckles from the other end of the tent where she’s helping Ames scoop golden puffs of popcorn into the traditional carnival serving boxes. The fact that she obtained not one, but three grandsons when I married Penelope … well, she’s been over the moon about it since the day we signed the license at city hall. The boys call her Mimi E, since they had already dubbed Marion as Nana and Penelope’s mother was given the honorary title of Grandma.
How astonishing is it that life can change so drastically in two years? It feels like only a moment ago that I was living as a bachelor, alone in my own house, with no qualms about never wanting to have a wife or kids. I lived a life online, never daring to get close to someone in a real personal way. My relationship with my brothers was all surface level, I was bitter at the world, and I really thought I was happy at the time.
Shit, I’d known close to nothing. And with all of my IQ points, too. Shame.
Now, I’m married to a woman who both fights and fucks just as passionately as I do. I love her with all of my being, and sometimes when I wake up in our bed next to her, I wonder what the hell finally opened her eyes so she saw me?
I sold my house and moved into hers, adding my shoes to the piles on the stairs and learning how to cook her favorite spaghetti sauce. Together, we tackle the boy’s schedules. I’m a glorified carpool chauffeur, and I fucking love it. Shortly after our wedding, Penelope confessed that she wasn’t able to have more children and that she would hate herself if she’d trapped me in a marriage where I couldn’t have everything I wanted.
I’d taken her face in my hands and told her that our life was chaotic enough with three boys, and I loved them enough for twelve children. It’s true, I adore the boys. And while Penelope had changed her last name, we’d given them the option to keep their fathers. They’d wanted to remain Briggs’, but I was in the process of legally adopting them. They were my children, and if anything happened, I want them to be protected.
“Aunt Lily, come see what I made!” Ames yells as he spots Lily walking up to our tent.
Bowen moves out from behind the table to greet his wife, dropping to his knees in front of the entire town to rub her very swollen belly.
“How’s my little girl? Only a couple more days until we get to meet you. Your mom is a trooper, you know.” He talks directly at her pregnant form as if the baby inside can actually hear him.
Meanwhile, Lily dreamily smiles down at him, as if my broody, sullen brother hangs the moon. They’re due with my first niece in a matter of days, and the two of them are so happy, it’s almost like looking at the sun. Honestly, it kind of hurts, but it’s also pretty sweet.
“How you feeling, sis?” I ask, grabbing a folding chair from our booth for her to sit on.
“Like a balloon and loving every second of it.” Lily smiles, thanking Penelope as my wife hands her a cup of cold water.
“I’m going to be there, letting you crush the bones in my hand the whole time.” P smiles down at her best friend.
Lily asked if she’d be in the delivery room along with Bowen, since Lily had been there for the birth of all the boys.
“Have you heard from Presley and Keaton?” My mom walks over.
“They landed in Seattle about an hour ago.” Fletcher holds up his phone, signaling he’s been texting with them.
The two are at a business conference specialized to owners of yoga studios, and how they escaped caramel corn duty, I’ll never know. Not that I mind since I largely took over the responsibility with my family a year ago.
For a while, we all thought that Keaton, Mr. Fawn Hill, would take it over from Mom. But the boys seemed interested, and I wanted traditions I could start with them. So, Penelope and I had taken the reins, and along