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Epilogue

Alana 

I folded the multicolored socks and neatly piled them in the laundry basket. They were so tiny; I had to refrain from dying out of cuteness overload. I stared at the blue pair of sock in my palms; it was half the size of my palm.

After Rowan and I married, we left for our honeymoon to a secluded beach hotel in Bali, Indonesia for almost a week. It was the most blissful week of my life. I remembered as we would remain cuddled under the covers for hours and I'd stare at his face like he was my sun and the warmth. I spent a whole lot of days doodling Mrs. Alana Masters in notebooks, and sketched hearts around it with Minnie's pink crayons. I wish I were kidding. The father and daughter laughed at me when they found out, but, that was a long time ago when I was a puberty overloaded newlywed wife.

   As the baby bump began growing, I decided to ditch the lectures because it wasn't really fun when suddenly during class your writing materials topple over and you have no idea what's landed on the floor because you can't see anything beyond your growing stomach. Okay, maybe I'm overreacting a bit.

   I'll just say, I was being judged. Although there were stories of how bold I'd been to marry an ex professor and how I carried around his bun in my oven, even though I didn't give a rats ass about the stories because I was too excited for the baby. I decided to give my college life a break and study from home. Perks of being a wife of a teacher. That didn't mean I was exempted from the exams.

        And during one bright sunny day when I was at a coffee shop with Claire exactly a week before the doctors given date. I started to get jolts of pain in my stomach and that's when I knew I was going to Labor. Claire went hysterical and she spilled the coffee, and I told her to calm down.

   I was rushed into the hospital and everything happened so fast. Rowan came into the hospital right on time and he was there with me the entire time. When he held our baby in his arms, he had tears in his eyes. Tears of joy. He kissed the baby and whispered, "Thank you, Alana."  And Minnie said 'best gift ever'. She had been too ecstatic about having a sibling and before Drew's birth, she told everyone in school that she was going to have a baby sister whom she was going to play dolls and dress up with.

    If only.

It was the cutest baby boy in the world. We decided to name him after Rowan's older brother, Andrew who had died in a car accident, the man who had been Rowan's sole support system during his difficult times.

    "Mom!" Minnie's loud screech pulled me out of memory lane. 

     I sighed as I rushed in her bedroom only to find out some of the toys broken, tattered and scattered across the floor. Pages of a coloring book were scribbled without an ounce of mercy shown to it. The suspect remained on the floor, staring at us---doe eyed, giggling in the monstrous way that could very easily pass as an adorable laughter. The difference was. It was damn near pure evil.

Minnie stared at the mess and back at me, trying hard to suppress a sob. "He ruined all the new books that I'd bought."

I patted her cheek. "I warned you so many times about how you shouldn't keep your stuff within his reach. The top shelf is where it's supposed to go. You know he always does that."

  Suddenly she shrieked loud enough to damage my ears. "Look—he's breaking my doll house."

"Andrew!" I called him.

My baby boy couldn't stop giggling; he liked to harass his sister. scratch that. He liked to harass his entire family. You never order Drew to do something because as soon as you do, he did exactly the contrary.

Drew's partner in crime was Elsa, who supported his every devilish scheming whether it was tearing Rowan's important work papers to shreds or ruining the soft pillows. There was a reason Elsa loved him without the tag of conditions applied. The first word that left Drew's mouth wasn't Momma or Daddy. Nope, it wasn't Minnie either. Guess again? Yep. He said Elsa which actually didn't sound so much like her name.

    "Momma." He held out his arms for me to carry him, trying to charm his way through all the toy damage. It worked all the time.

"Your sister's crying, Drew." I emotionally blackmailed him. "Look, you're making her cry."

The dimple kissed grin began to dissipate as realization dawned. Drew was a junior version of Rowan, the same mocha colored eyes and the same dark raven hair. My father had said his nose and lips were exactly like mine, I doubt he said that to make me feel better.

Drew stood up on his wobbly little legs with too much effort and walked towards Minnie. It was like watching an astronaut walk on a moon. He tugged at her skirt with his tiny hands and when she bent to his level, he kissed his sister on the cheek "Minnyiieee."

He meant to say sorry of course. Being just a year old didn't leave him with a wide choice of words.

Not that Minnie could resist the charms of her little brother. Before I knew it, they were back to drawing and other things little brothers and older sisters do.

The giggles came to a sudden pause after a while as I realized they'd fallen asleep so I started to play the good housewife and began preparing the lunch. I'd just removed the casserole out of the oven when a pair of solid arms wrapped around me from back.

"Something smells really good."

I almost dropped the glass casserole. He chuckled, nuzzling his way towards the nape of my neck. "Didn't mean to startle you like that Mrs. Masters."

   My husband now worked as an Economics professor in the neighboring town, and also sometimes worked part time as a model.

   "Oh, it's you."

    Rowan spun me around to face him; he arched his brow, planting his hands on the either side of the counter, trapping me. "Was it someone else you were expecting?"

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