Every day is lucky now that Seven and I are on the other side of our happily-ever-after. We wait on the porch of our country estate. It’s not exactly a castle, but the two-story white farmhouse with a bright red door might as well have a moat. It rises at the center of acres and acres of land, the border of which is protected by a ward only the king of the Fae could master. We’ve been happy here in our getaway from the city, although Seven keeps his penthouse for nights he needs to stay in town.
“There she is,” Seven mumbles as a Land Rover weaves up the drive. It parks near the house, and Arden leaps from the driver’s seat, her doctor’s bag in hand.
“If it isn’t Elderflame Hospital’s newest resident!” I say proudly.
She beams back at me. “I can’t believe you’re allowing me to witness this.”
She jogs up the steps to us, and we each pull her into our arms.
“This is a family matter, and you are family,” I tell her.
Together, the three of us enter the house and pass through the massive foyer and family room to the kitchen and the antechamber that leads to our garden. A real pixie garden with vines of blooming roses, bushes of hydrangeas, hibiscus the size of dinner plates, peonies, and butterfly bushes. Some of the most beautiful plants have no names, but their flowers are uniquely beautiful, and the scent flavors the air.
Seven is king of the fae, and as such he holds the powers of every fairy species. It wasn’t long after we were married that he started producing seeds as a pixie would, and we’ve planted them here along with mine. There are so many positive emotions in this garden we rarely have to weed.
But the most important plant is at the center of it all. We make our way there now, to the two spheres of glass, one purple and one yellow, that have grown to the size of large pumpkins.
“Are you ready to meet your siblings, Arden?” I ask.
She nods enthusiastically. Seven and I join hands, then bring our heel down with a careful tap on the yellow fairy glass. Cracks form along the edges, and I easily pull the sections apart. Sap spills into the soil and fog rolls up, obstructing my view, but when I reach inside, I find the chubby body of a baby. I gather it into my arms, stroking back its shock of dark hair and staring into two emerald-green eyes.
“A girl!” I squeal. “Arden, you have a sister.” I hold her to me until something nudges my arm. Moving her to my shoulder, I watch as two wings unfurl from her back. “And a pixie!”
“What will you name her?” Arden asks.
I look at Seven and smile. “We decided on Harper.”
“Harper Delaney,” Arden says before holding a receiving blanket out to wrap Harper in. Together we make a baby burrito and Arden takes Harper from me, cooing down at her sister.
I return to Seven’s side, and hand in hand, we bring our heels down on the purple glass. This time Seven reaches through the fog, and when he lifts another child from the birth plant, I notice immediately this one looks more like me with brown eyes and hair.
“Harper has a brother!” Seven says, tucking him against his chest.
“No wings,” I say.
Arden steps to his side, handing me Harper, and examines the baby. “He’s a leprechaun. You can tell by the pattern of the iris. See?” She gently holds open the baby’s eyelid, and I see a gently looping pattern in his iris that is different from Harper’s. “That will fade by the time he’s a year old.”
“I can feel his luck,” Seven says, a smile spreading.
“Have you decided on a name for my brother?” Arden asks, pulling another receiving blanket from her bag.
“Everett.” I kiss my new son on the head, then stand close to Seven so the babies can see each other and both of us together.
“And just like that, we’re a party of five,” Arden whispers.
Five. I wouldn’t believe there was enough room in my chest for the joy I’m feeling if I weren’t experiencing it firsthand. We are a family. A strong one. A real one. There are no lies here. No illusions. No more secrets.
The trouble with fairy tales is they never show you the happily-ever-after. The girl marries her prince, but do they stay together? Does it last? Are they strong enough to withstand the pressures that kept them apart before the magic happened?
I can’t speak for Cinderella, but for us the answer is yes. Then again, you might say the five of us are as lucky as they come.
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