Page 131 of Clint & Ivy
Eschewing trendy or unique names, I decided to stick with simple, masculine ones. Clint was a strong male name. We needed to find something similar for our son.
During my first year in Little Memphis, Clint had shared his love for “Fargo” with me. After watching the TV show version, I grew fond of the name Hank for our firstborn.
“An outlaw naming his kid after a cop character could get me some ribbing from the foxes,” Clint said, chuckling at the thought.
“Well, Ford is a cool name,” I replied as I searched baby name sites. “What if we went with a middle name like Redford or Ashford to honor your outlaw side?”
Clint was immediately a fan of the idea. With the name picked and the condo baby-proofed, we focused on getting through the end of my pregnancy.
Despite his taller-than-average father, Hank Ashford Reed was born at a normal-sized seven pounds. Our family and friends rallied around us. We had so much help with our sweet boy.
Shay slept over to help during the first week. Elle and the other foxes shopped for us. Rock and the other Crimson Guard members in the building frequently took Hanzee to the courtyard to keep him busy.
The little furball wasnota fan of Hank, barking whenever the baby cried. Clint and I took turns cuddling with the dog so he wouldn’t grow too competitive with the baby.
Over the first six months, Hanzee stopped barking whenever the baby got fussy. Eventually, he barked at people approaching Hank in the courtyard.
“What a little guard dog,” I cooed at the Chihuahua.
Clint and I did a lot of adjusting over those six months, too. We slept in the downstairs bedroom to make it easier to handle Hank’s late-night feedings. The twin beds were exchanged for a full-sized one next to his crib.
The condo wasn’t ideal for a family, but we hadn’t wanted to move yet. The view was great, and the courtyard allowed Clint to socialize with his people.
“We should build a home,” Clint finally suggested. “There are lots available in the Sleepy Eye Community. We could build there.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked, worried he would feel disconnected from his people.
“The lots can only be sold to those approved by the community board, and they only sell to people connected to the clubs. No doubt many of my people will eventually live there.”
Clint and I started designing our dream house. We planned to have another baby soon, so they’d only be a few years apart like Clint and Elle were. The hope was to get into our house before baby number two arrived.
Hank was such a lovely child and looked so much like Clint. They had the same shade of blue eyes and golden-brown hair. Our boy might have been born a normal size, but he was already tall for his age by the time we moved into our new one-story mountain-style house.
Clint and I designed the home with both of our tastes in mind. He preferred a rustic flair, while I was attracted to dramatic colors. Though not always easy to mesh our styles, we wanted to be happy with our forever home.
Clint also encouraged me to decorate the house with items from my room in Reno. I displayed my grandmother’s collections and my mom’s artwork. With pieces from my past, I could let myself remember the good times I spent with my first family.
The four-bedroom house had high ceilings for Clint and the other large men coming through. The kitchen was designed with a shorter woman in mind. The primary bedroom was separated from the smaller rooms by the large family room filled with windows. On the back patio was an outdoor kitchen for parties. We also decided on a finished basement for our boys to enjoy as they got older.
Gus Redford Reed joined the family not long after we moved into the house. He looked more like me with blond hair and rounder eyes. He was also named after an officer from “Fargo.” Like his big brother, Gus was an even-tempered kid who enjoyed playing outside and taking care of Hanzee.
Motherhood filled me with pride and purpose. I loved taking Hank and Gus places and watching them discover the world. My boys were as happy reading under a tree as fishing with Grandpa Ford. They were my helpers whenever I made a large meal for our extended family. They loved playing soccer with their cousins in our big yard. My boys might have been their happiest while chilling with Clint and his club family on the large driveway.
No matter the activity, the boys remained inseparable. One of their most difficult days was when Hank first started school. Gus cried for hours waiting to see his brother again.
Of course, Clint was a great father. He was always patient, even when our sons fed off each other’s drama. If the boys were rattled by something, they instantly looked to their dad for reassurance. He never had to say a single word. A simple smile and head nod were all they needed to chill out.
Back in Reno, I lived many lives with many imaginary husbands and children. Nothing in my imagination could compare to the beautiful life I stumbled upon with Clint.
I often thought back to that day we met. My instincts steered me toward the love of my life and the man who offered me everything I ever needed.
