I Made You My First (34 page)

“I promise, love,” Irish whispered and leaned in to kiss me.

“I won’t ever feel good about sex again if you don’t promise me,” and I loosened my grip on his arm.

“Well we can’t have that happen, Jurnee. I’m so sorry. We will get through this, I promise.”

I felt a tear puddle in my eye. “I know we will.” And I touched his face with my finger. I knew that my shock needed to end. I needed to get on board with the fact that along with my good luck in meeting the right man that accompanied the responsibility of the family we’d created. I finally sat straight up and with a deep breath, smiled at my extremely handsome husband.

* * *

It was the day after Christmas when I was released from the hospital. Before my in-laws left for home, Memphis sat us down and provided some comforting news.

“I’m counting on my two male grandchildren.”

Mary gave him a quick glare at his choice of words. “I’m counting on all of my grandchildren.” He looked up at Mary with a slight cowering smile, “to carry on our family business. Mary and I talked about it and I want you to know that at least for the first year of the triplets’ lives, they’ll have both mom and dad at home to take care of them. Irish will be on the payroll but his job will be to care for the future of the Thompson business.”

Irish and I
both smiled at him. Memphis held his hand out to Irish and they hugged. Together, I knew that we could overcome any obstacles. Separated, I wasn’t so sure. That was the best gift anyone could ever have given us and we were grateful. Irish turned and hugged me.

After seeing Mary and Memphis off, Irish reached for me and pulled me into his body. I took a deep breath and smiled as I replayed
the magnitude of Memphis’s words.

I could feel Irish’s hot breath in my ear and heard him whisper, “I’m so sorry.” My face scrunched up and I could feel the wrinkles in my forehead like they were twined ropes.

I gently pushed away from him, so I could see his eyes. “Irish, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. This isn’t something either of us should be sorry about. It’s our life. It’s our custom-made miracle. I love you and I am so unbelievably lucky to have you love me in return. I owe you.” My eyes filled with tears and although I couldn’t see his face through my tears, I finished, “I’m the luckiest person on the planet, and I don’t tell you that nearly enough. You’re way more than I ever dreamed of and I thank the heavens above that you waited and picked me to love.” And I paused to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“
So you close your mouth. You say not another word and let me try as hard as I can to be good enough for you,” I wiped my eyes and tried to focus on his face.

He was smiling and leaned in, kissing my cheek. “I think you have that backward
s, Jurnee.

I’m the lucky one here.”

I smacked his shoulder. “No, you aren’t Irish.”

“Is this our first fight?”
he whispered sweetly.

“I guess it is. I win by the way.” We reached for each

other and hugged tightly.

That night after Jewel was safely tucked into bed, Irish and I lay quietly in bed with the lights off. My mind was bouncing off the walls. I heard Irish take a deep animated breath.

“What are ya’ thinking about?” I asked.

“Well I can’t stop thinking about the pictures and whether or not we should frame them.”

After a few moments, I asked curiously. “Do you mean the family pictures? Cuz we’ll definitely frame a couple for us and send the rest to family.” I waited patiently in the dark, my body perfectly still as if I wouldn’t hear him if I moved. He didn’t answer. “Irish,” I whispered.

I felt his arm wrap around my body and his mouth move close to my ear. “I mean the two pictures the nurse gave me today of the babies.”

I whipped over to the lamp on my side of the bed and turned it on. “What pictures?”

I watched Irish move over to his nightstand and ope
n the drawer. After a moment he rolled back over to me holding two black-and-white Polaroid pictures of our babies. He handed them to me. I stared at the three distinct globs that were only in their early stages of growth. I felt Irish’s arm slide over me, resting on my far side almost protecting my stomach.

“God they’re ugly,” I laughed
and threw my hand over my mouth ashamed for letting those words escape. Irish nestled his head into my neck and began nibbling up and down, tickling me until I screamed out in laughter to make him stop. When he did we were staring at each other.

“It’s going to be okay, Jurnee, I promise.” The look on his face told me that it really was going to work out well.
His eyes twinkled and he had the sweetest smile and I reached out my arms to pull him over on me.

“Trust me,” he said and I squeezed him
gently but loved

him hard.

“I do,” I whispered.

We turned out the lights for the last time before we both

fell into a dreamy asleep.

                    Chapter Sixteen

My due date was June but the doctor stated that an exact date would all depend on the way the pregnancy progressed. For me, June seemed like years away rather than months, and I tried seriously to focus my time on Jewel and her needs. Her quiet little world was about to be rocked and somehow it didn’t seem fair. Everything had returned to normal, namely, Irish was back at work while I was happily at home taking care of our precious Jewel. Besides paying a little more attention to my body and protecting my unborn children, things were no different than they were before we’d found out about the triplets.  I was carrying. Irish was much gentler in the bedroom, which bothered me some but I understood. He made up for it in other ways, so I certainly couldn’t complain. We planned to move back to La Jolla in April to be closer to his family. Memphis was having a room built on our house for the babies before we returned. Things were pretty much perfect until the morning of March 10th.

Irish had brought paperwork home the night before and planned on spending the day with Jewel and me. The baby was dry, fed, and happily sitting in her swing in the living room with Irish when we heard a knock on the door. I left the laundry and headed to the living room while Irish pushed the
pause
button for the program he was watching on television. When he opened the door, I saw a young man standing on the porch wearing a backpack. Irish said hello and the boy responded nervously. I was standing directly behind Irish, letting my belly stay protected securely behind him.

“I don’t mean to bother you so early but I’ve come a long way and, well, I’m just really excited to finally meet Jewel,” he announced sheepishly.

I felt Irish’s body tense up at that last word. I gently grabbed both sides of Irish’s waist with my hands while I leaned around his back.

“Excuse me.  Who are you?” I asked.

Irish and I just stared at the teen. He didn’t look threatening or angry. He just seemed genuinely nervous.

“My name’s Wyatt Zachary, ma’am, and I got this letter from Paris telling me I had a daughter living with her brother in San Francisco,” he said as he fumbled in his pocket until he retrieved a folded-up piece of paper. Irish and I stood frozen and continued to stare at the boy. He slowly held out the folded note to Irish. I stepped in front of Irish now and took the paper from the boy. Irish watched our visitor while also watching me unfold the note. We both began reading it and when we finished, Irish and I just looked at each other, then back at the young lad. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old. This age seemed to be Paris’s boyfriend preference, just a bit older than jailbait. He had sandy-brown, curly hair shoulder length. He had Jewel’s blue eyes and looking at him standing in front of me, I could see her features in him.

Irish took the paper from my hand and looking at Wyatt,

he asked, “Can I keep this?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders and nodded yes.

Looking at Wyatt, I took a step closer to the door. “Wyatt, this note from Paris didn’t mention that we legally adopted Jewel and she is our daughter. You don’t have any claim to her.” I tried to be sympathetic while also keeping my words firm and confident to convey the truth of the situation.

He looked at my face and then up to Irish’s. “I’m not trying to cause any problems, I promise. I just want to see her for myself. That’s all.” His blue eyes skipped back to mine. I felt Irish’s arm straighten out in front of my body and pull me back gently but firmly.

He took a step forward after placing me carefully behind him. “Buddy, I understand your situation, I do, but you’re going to have to understand ours as well. I can’t let you into our home to see our daughter. I don’t know you. How about giving me a phone number and letting me figure this all out. Maybe we can meet you somewhere and discuss the matter but you can’t come back here ever again. I will discuss all of this with my sister and my wife but until then, you’re going to have to leave,” his voice dripping with authority.

Wyatt looked at Irish and nodded before looking at the ground. “That sounds fair.” He dropped his backpack on the ground and began unzipping the outside pocket. He removed a pen and a piece of paper and began jotting down the requested information, handing it to Irish.

“I’m staying in a hotel for two days before heading home

to Oregon,” he barely muttered.

“Okay, Wyatt, I’ll contact you soon. I give you my word on that.” Irish nodded to the teen before stepping back and closing the door. We both looked at Jewel smiling at us even though her swing was motionless.

I looked at Irish and his eyes flew from Jewel’s to mine. He shrugged his shoulders as if he was trying to shake it all away, and I watched him squeeze the note into a ball in his fist.

“I’d like to kill her right now,” he whispered.

“No, you don’t,” I said. “We’re going to figure out the right thing to do here. You know that if either of us were in his situation, we’d be curious too.”

Irish’s face softened. “You’re right,” he admitted. We both sat down on the sofa and I unfolded the letter.

Dear Wyatt,

I’m writing you today because I’m trying to get my life together and that means doing the right thing. I gave birth to a little girl in November, and I didn’t believe there was any possibility that she was your child until I realized that I’d gotten my dates wrong. I recently saw a picture of her and now I’m sure you’re the father.
I’m not asking for anything from you; I just wanted to be honest and let you know. Her name is Jewel and she’s living with my brother, Irish and his wife, Jurnee, in San Francisco. She’s happy, healthy, and loved. I needed to tell you so I can move on with my life. You were important to me and I’ll always smile when I think of you.

Love, Paris

             
Although Paris often came across as flibbertigibbet, I found her letter to be meticulously and honestly written.

“So what should we do?” and Irish’s hand moved to rest on my belly. While he waited for me to answer, my eyes remained focused on the letter. I couldn’t stop concentrating on one sentence Paris had written, “
You were very important to me and I’ll always smile when I think of you.”

“Well, I don’t think that any of this was meant to threaten or challenge us as Jewel’s parents, do you? Maybe Paris was only trying to clear her conscience so that she could get past this situation.” I laid my hand over his. Looking at him, I continued, “This isn't really his fault and
after meeting him today I don’t feel that he wants any more than to see her once, do you?”

“I’m not sure, Jurnee. A part of me feels sorry for him but

the other part says to protect

Jewel with all of my strength.” Irish became so sensitive and

sweet.

“You’re such a good daddy,” I smiled into his beautiful blues. “What if we meet him tomorrow after Jewel’s appointment with the pediatrician? We could go to that Mexican restaurant on the corner. Let him see her and visit for a few minutes, and then he’ll be on his way to Oregon.” I watched my husband’s face start to scrunch up as if he was going to give me that
I don’t think so
look, but halfway through it his face changed.

“Okay, but we’ll insist on a thirty-minute limit and
we don’t give him any personal information about our plans to move back home. Let him think that he knows where to find us.”

My eyebrows rose and I nodded,
“Agreed. Should we

mention any of this to Paris?”

He shook his head no. “Let’s just leave that alone. I’m still unhappy about being blindsided today. Paris could have mentioned this to us but that just shows me that my sister is still thinking only of Paris.” Shaking his head Irish leaned in and kissed my cheek.

After feeding and burping Jewel, Irish handed the baby to me for a diaper change. We played
puppets got your nose
before she went down for her nap. I started lunch while Irish finished his paperwork. Humming a nursery song to myself and cutting up tomatoes for our grilled chicken salad I heard Irish’s phone chirp. I smiled at him as he picked it up and I went back to preparing lunch.