Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,47

to sound doubtful.

“She should be,” he adds. “She’s my daughter!” he exclaims, stopping in the middle of our shared joy just long enough to glance at his beeper.

“I have to go now, but congratulations you two… err, three, or is it four?” he says with another smile, placing his hands over both of ours before disappearing again.

Noah and I stare in wonder at our babies, and the nurse lets us hear their heartbeats too,

“Strong, and powerful,” is her diagnosis.

“They say babies conceived in moments of pure passion and love are always the strongest,” she adds.

“You didn’t know you were pregnant, all this time?” she asks, dumbfounded.

Noah answers for us both.

For all four of us.

“There’s so much passion in our life, I’m not surprised these two crept in without us even noticing,” he says proudly, kissing me on the lips and pressing his hand over mine firmly.

“Mommy Templeton,” he whispers in my ear, teasing me a little before kissing it.

“Daddy Templeton,” I tease him back, feeling the tear from his cheek running onto mine as the nurse leaves us alone to be together as we celebrate the news of our instant and unexpected family.

Extended Epilogue

Two Years Later

Noah

“Of course I won’t go, honey, not if you don’t want me to,” I tell Faith.

Helping one of the twins from her hip, I kiss them both, telling her I’ll change Zak and then put him down with Zoe if only she’ll just relax.

Faith groans, following me through to the changing table, gnawing her lip like she used to. The surest sign she’s not sure about something.

“I mean, I just don’t want you feeling like you have to go,” she says finally.

I murmur an answer, but with the large diaper pin between my teeth.

“What?” she calls over her shoulder, pretending to fold some baby clothes.

The eternal supply of onesies.

“I said, I haven’t seen you this touchy since-” But I lower my own voice suddenly.

“Could it be?” I ask baby Zak, holding his tiny puckered fist in my fingers as I draw it gently to my lips, moving his whole arm as he gurgles and finally giggles.

A look of complete satisfaction as I know it from him, then smell him filling his entire diaper I just changed. In record time too, or so I thought.

“You wanna see me some more before you go to sleep, don’t you little man?” I ask him, bending down to kiss him as I reach for a fresh diaper.

“What are you feeding Zak, honey?” I ask her, half-joking, half-serious. Totally trying to change the subject.

I know she doesn’t want me to go, we’ve been together, here at home with our babies for two years in July.

Her Dad hasn’t come to visit since we left the states and I’ve volunteered to fly him over myself, picking him up from Hawaii, the beach house we bought there.

He stays there more and more, always asking us to come up and we always mean to.

But with these little ones, the days have turned into years and they’re growing so darned fast.

“It’s only to pick him up from the South Island,” I protest. “Not like I’m flying across the Pacific to go get him.”

Silence.

I don’t need to turn around to know the look she’s broadcasting, I can feel it.

“Y’know, honey? If I didn’t know better I’d think you never wanted me to fly again,” I suggest.

And once I turn around, I have my answer.

And Faith has hers.

“Oh, baby… I’m sorry,” I tell her, grabbing her and wiping her silent tears away. “I won’t go, that settles it, and I’ll have Joel go get your Dad, it’s not too far out of his way.”

The one business I know, flying. I’ve set up here on our new home turf as well as keeping things going back in the States.

Putting my arm around her, I guide her back to the changing table, lifting little Zak into her arms as I hold them both tight.

“I didn’t think it was such a big deal,” I confess, kissing her forehead and then her tears. Relieved when I see her smile.

“It shouldn’t be,” she admits. “But I just don’t know what I’d do if anything happened, Noah… Our babies,” she whispers.

I nod quietly. Wondering if living so remote was such a good idea after all.

But she does have a point.

When it was just me, I’d fly like a devil. Planes, helicopters, anything that got me high and fast. I loved it.

But it’s nothing compared with the love I feel at home.

The calm, still