Page 84 of Lessons in Lemonade

Lexi still laughs when she tells the story about them at the doctor’s office in the ultrasound room. Bryan was standing next to Lexi, and she was on the bed. The technician was pointing out different things on the monitor, and then she showed them the second heartbeat. She said Bryan made a strangled noise, they both turned to look at him, and then he passed out—like knees collapsed and out cold on the floor. He also hit his head on the way down, splitting it open, and there was blood everywhere. The technician ran out for help, all these people swarmed around him in the little room, and there she was standing in the corner with no pants on because at eight weeks it’s a vaginal ultrasound and not one done on the lower stomach. It was chaos, it was messy, and she said when he finally came to, he was so horrified and excited at the same time that he cried.

Lexi got her first set of black and white images of their babies, Bryan got a nice set of stitches, and hand in hand they left the office with their world changed.

As for me, I can’t have children, at least not in the traditional way. I’m okay with this, and as much as I was nervous about telling Jack, which I did that night under the gazebo, he was okay with the idea too. That’s why he’s worried about me today, but he doesn’t need to be.

At twenty-one, I had a full hysterectomy. They did leave the good untouched ovary to not send me into menopause, but as for the rest of my reproductive organs—gone. We did choose to freeze some eggs in case I should ever decide on third-party reproduction where someone else would carry an embryo from us, but I’m not sure I want to go that route. Instead, Jack and I have met with two different adoption agencies. We know no matter which path we take, it will be a long process and will most likely come with some heartache, but we’re prepared for what life has to give us. With him by my side, I know we’ll be just fine.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, right? And that’s life. With each glass, we’re taught lessons about ourselves, about others, and ultimately about what matters most. It’s why I’ve amended my five promises and dropped them to four. After all, I created them, so I can erase them, too, or drink them. Lessons in lemonade—it has a nice ring to it, I think.

Maybe I’ll put it on my menu.

Silently, Shelby and Lexi slide up next to me, and instinctively we wrap our arms around each other. The three legs of the tripod.

“How are your feet holding up today?” I ask Lexi as we all bend down to look at them. She’s had some swelling issues, but that’s to be expected as she’s now in her third trimester.

“If I could see them, I’d tell you, but I can’t.”

We all laugh. Her stomach is so large; it’s strange to see, and I can’t even imagine what it’s going to look like by the end.

“Well, they look good to me,” Shelby reassures her, and I think about our conversation earlier where Shelby all but said, No babies, not yet.

After the success of the southeast regional Food Network magazine, Zach and Shelby both were launched into a new place with their careers. For Zach, the winery is now booked most weekends with events, and distribution contracts have doubled. For Shelby, her pitch for a network show was picked up, and the pilot of her series will air in the fall. Aside from Zach, no one is more proud of her than me.

And at that thought, my eyes swell with tears.

I feel so lucky.

“It’s been a pretty amazing couple of years, hasn’t it?” I look at them, and they look at me.

“It really has,” Lexi answers, each of us gripping a little tighter in our embrace with a clear understanding.

Maybe I’m feeling more sentimental today because we’re all here together, or maybe I’m just feeling more blessed because with Jack I finally feel more hope than fear. Whatever it is, I’m finding it easier to admit to myself that I’m looking forward to seeing where we all are in five years. I’ve spent so long just trying to live in the moment, to not take each second for granted, that I never really made any long-term goals. Lately, though, I’ve been trying, and the future that once felt so bleak and scary now feels bright.

“Lexi.” Shelby leans in and whispers so only the three of us can hear. “Now’s your chance since Bryan isn’t around—tell us the names.” Her eyes are large and excited as she nods her head like this is the best idea ever.

“What? No!” Lexi tips her head back and laughs.

Lexi wanted to know the genders of the babies, but Bryan didn’t. He wanted it all to be a surprise, but of course he caved to her wishes, and in return they made a pact to keep the names a secret so that would be the surprise when they arrive. One boy, and one girl—perfect for the two of them.

“Why not? We won’t tell anyone,” Shelby declares.

Lexi glows as she grins. “That’s not how it works and you know it. I don’t need him mad at me if he finds out. I need him to rub my back—daily.”

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me.

“Fine.” Shelby takes a step back and flips her blonde hair over one shoulder like she’s mad, although we all know she’s not. “But it’s his fault there won’t be any monogrammed blankets or baby hats at the hospital.”

“Not true. I ordered blankets, so stop worrying,” Lexi tells her.

“You did?” she asks, surprised.

Lexi nods.

“Well that makes me feel a little better. I can’t help it, you know. I love you and I want everything to be perfect,” Shelby says so tenderly.

“I love you, and it already is.” Lexi squeezes her hand.

“All right, if you say so.” She lets out a deep sigh. “Okay, enough slacking on the job for me. It’s time for me to get back to the kitchen and for us to break out the cupcakes! Either one of you need anything?”