by K. S. Adkins
Pushing his way through, Ram took his place next to us. Proudly, he declared, “To my ma and dad!”
Squeezing Luke tight, I watched his eyes mist and followed his lead when he yanked Ram down for a group hug.
Luke was not shy about his feelings, ever. If there was a prouder dad out there, I haven’t seen it. And in my book, there was nothing sexier than a man who showed his feelings.
“I’m a lucky son of a bitch,” he said loud enough for all to hear.
“You cry like a bitch, too,” Lincoln teased.
Smiling, Luke shook it off by saying, “Fuck you, I’m hormotional.”
“Told you it was a word,” I said through a laugh.
“When can we leave?” was his whispered response in my ear.
“Not having fun?”
Situating me over his massive erection, he growled, “Saw your dress in the closet, Lizzy.”
“Mmm.”
“Want you to wear it.”
“Yeah?”
“So I can tear it off with my teeth,” he groaned in my ear.
Luke carried me away like a caveman while the guys cheered him on. He also had me in and then out of my dress in record time.
One week later...
To some, marrying inside Hudson’s Garage would seem odd.
But not to us.
This is where we began, where we would stay until we chose retirement.
Hudson’s Garage was Lizzy’s happy place, which made it mine.
Hell, anywhere she happened to be was my favorite place.
And right now, this space looked nothing like a garage after the makeover Doris and Destiny gave it.
The bay doors were open with thin white shears draping down, creating an angelic motion whenever the breeze picked up.
The sparkling lights, flowers, candles, and decorated tables, made it the most gorgeous wedding I have ever seen.
And then Lizzy’s guys walked in.
Each in dress shirts, clean jeans and boots, her guys went all out for her. I knew for a fact when she saw them she’d be blown away. She would cry, and she would be beautiful.
Since Lincoln was officiating, he took my left.
Benz and Diesel took my right to stand next to Haines.
Rambler escorted his wife and Destiny down the makeshift aisle to take their places directly in front of us.
Then soft music started to play and all eyes turned to the stairs that led from our apartment down to the garage.
When Ram stepped out with his mom’s arm looped through his, I fucking lost it.
I was already falling apart, and I hadn’t even seen all of Lizzy yet.
Leaning in, Lincoln whispered, “Don’t ever forget this.”
I didn’t have the voice to tell him that was an impossibility because the moment Lizzy stepped out fully, I couldn’t speak at all. Her hair was up, curls spiraling all around her veil. Since meeting her, I thought I had seen all of her smiles.
But I had never seen this one.
My baby was pure fucking joy.
Step by step, Ram brought her closer to me, and it was all I could do to stand still. Sensing this, Diesel latched on so I didn’t rush forward. Lizzy, however, was just as eager and started pulling Ram along with her.
Tossing her flowers over her shoulder and with Ram still holding her hand, she launched herself straight into my arms and started to cry. “I couldn’t get to you fast enough,” she sniffled into my neck.
“Diesel held me back,” I confessed, fighting my own tears. “Nearly tackled you on the steps, Lizzy.”
“It’s true,” Diesel added. “Your man wasn’t kidding.”
“Ma,” Ram said on a chuckle. “Let’s get you married.”
“Is my makeup fucked?” she asked our son.
And because Ram got his mom, he simply said, “No, ma, your makeup is not fucked.”
“Okay,” she exhaled and took both his arm and mine. “Let’s rock.”
Stepping forward, Lincoln wiped his eyes and got his shit together. “Who gives this woman away?”
Standing tall, Ram said, “Her son does.” And then, in synch the entire room booms, “We do.”
And then my Lizzy broke into tears again.
It took some time for us to get through our vows, but when Lincoln started to say, “You may now kiss—” I had already had my wife in my arms.
As we sealed our union, I ignored Lincoln’s mumble of, “Or you can kiss her now and fucking ruin the ending.”
Lizzy and I swayed slowly to Sam Cooke’s “Bring It On Home To Me” as our family watched and took photos.
I sang into her ear, “Bring your sweet loving, bring it on home to me.”
Lizzy whispered, “Yeah...yeah.”
When the music sped up, everyone joined in and we spent the rest of the night dancing our hearts out. Right up until Destiny casually dropped, “My water just broke.”
And my wife sprang into action.
With my finger in the nurse’s face, I yelled, “You fucking twit! We are her family!”
Which was true. Destiny’s mom passed when she was small, and her dad was a real piece of shit. Which, as far as I was concerned, made Luke and I her fucking parents. Did this nurse care? No, because she was a horrible person.
So, standing there in the hallway of the hospital in my wedding dress, I was very close to throat punching her when Ram poked his head out to say, “Ma, Destiny needs you.”
“Told you,” I actually growl at her.
“Lizzy,” Luke laughed, taking my hand. “She’s just doing her job.”
To this, I gave Luke the glare. We were married now, he’d get used to it, he had no choice.
Stepping inside her room, my husband grunted, “I think I should wait outside.”
“Luke!” Destiny cried out. “Get your ass in here!”
“Fuck,” he groaned, but made his way inside despite his discomfort. Since my stint in the hospital, Luke became pretty averse to sterilized places. He wasn’t in the room a full thirty-seconds when he asked, “Are all those IVs necessary?”
“Yes,” I said, rushing over to Destiny, brushing the hair from her face, and doing my best to stay calm. Remembering my own labor had me already sweating profusely.
“I’m scared,” she said, wincing through the pain. “How bad is this going to hurt? And why are you so sweaty?”
“It will hurt more than you can possibly comprehend,” I replied honestly, but ignored her other statement.
“Ma,” Ram admonished. “Seriously?”
“No reason to bullshit her, Ram. Yes, baby, it’s going to hurt and just when you think you can’t push anymore, you will, and the reward is your child safe in your arms.”
“It burns, Lizzy,” she whimpered. “Is it supposed to? Jesus, wipe your hands off!”
When I pulled my hands away to wipe them off she screamed, “Don’t let go, woman!”
“Ok, baby,” I shushed her. “You’re doing great. It’s all part of the process, Des. But when you get further along, they’ll give you good drugs.”
“I want those.” She gripped me tight. “I want them now!”
Just then a young man in scrubs walked in and announced, “I’m Doctor Bush.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I blurted, unable to help myself.
“Excuse me?” he asked, giving me side eye.
“She means hello, and how are you,” Luke added helpfully.
“Totally not what I meant,” I chuckled, not sorry at all.
“This is my ma and dad,” Ram explained, shaking his hand and the guy gave him a sympathetic look.
“I’m sorry,” I sobered a little. “It’s been a long day.”
“Your wedding day?” He semi-smiled. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. How far along is she?”
“I’m going to do an exam to check your progression,” he said to Destiny.
�
�Okay,” she said nervously, and when Ram comes to her side I told her, “We can leave, Des. Whatever you want.”
Luke was all for it and nearly to the door when she said, “Stay, or I’ll kill you.”
“Ok, we’ll stay.” And let me just say Luke’s expression was hilarious.
“And keep holding my hand,” she demanded pitifully.
“Okay, baby.”
“Luke,” she said, fighting a contraction. “Get over here and rub my head.”
“What?” he asked, baffled at the boldness of her request. “Why?”
“Do it!” we both yelled in unison.
Ram was praising and comforting Destiny during her exam, while Luke rubbed her head, and I watched the doctor. When he rolled back, stripped off his gloves, and said, “You are dilated to—”
Destiny cut him right off to say, “I want drugs. I want all the drugs!”
“I’ll put in the order,” he said kindly, but I wasn’t liking my girl in pain. So, I let him know, “You can’t order the drugs if you’re standing here staring at us!”
“Ma’am,” he said, irritated with me. “You’re upsetting her.”
“She isn’t upsetting me,” Destiny defended. “The pain is upsetting me! Your big hands are upsetting me!”
“Drugs, doc,” Ram pleaded. “Please. We’re hanging on by a thread here.”
Excusing himself, I whispered to my son who was struggling, “She’s tough, Ram.”
“Do you want some ice chips?” Luke asked Destiny.
“Do I look like I want some fucking ice chips?” Destiny yelled at the top of her lungs. “Now keep rubbing my head!”
Ram looked forlorn, Luke was stunned, and I was proud. “See?” I said brightly. “She’s just fine!”
What felt like eight years later, Destiny finally got her drugs and even though Ram felt helpless, he never left her side.
Not once. And for all her hard work, poor Destiny’s labor was not progressing quickly. And like all women, I knew she’d remember this pain for the rest of her life. Hell, since birthing Ram, I still haven’t stared at my vagina longer than necessary. I mean, I’m thrilled Luke loves spending time down there, but I sure as heck don’t. It’s never looked the same...
How much longer was this going to take?
My goddamn nerves were shot, and it wasn’t even my baby.
If I stopped rubbing Destiny’s head, she went nuts. If I spoke to Destiny, she went nuts.
I ignored the cramps in my fingers and rubbed her head and kept my mouth shut.
This poor girl was going to be in labor forever...
Ram was so worried about her, he’d lost all color in his face. Each time a nurse came in to check on Des, I thought Ram was going to attack. But his mom calmed him down, even though I could tell she wanted to rip someone’s face off, too.
So, when the doctor announced, “We’ve reached the pushing stage,” I thought Ram was going to pass out.
While Destiny was being prepped, I kept rubbing and listened as Lizzy prepared Ram. “She’s going to scream, swear, and say a whole lot of nasty things she doesn’t mean. I promise you, the second that baby is out, you’ll both breathe again.”
“She can’t take more pain, ma,” he whispered. “Fuck, I can’t take it.”
“Oh, honey,” she whispered. “Prepare to be amazed.”
She gave him a hug, and I watched Ram hold on to his mom and committed it to memory. Unfortunately, Destiny screaming, “I need to shit!” was also etched in it, too.
Running to her side, Ram took position, kissed her forehead, held her hand, and took way more verbal abuse than any man should. Even if it was for a good cause. Damn, women were creative...
And my Lizzy? Well, she tossed a gown on over her dress and championed Destiny.
“Quit squeezing my head!” Destiny suddenly screamed at me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, easing up because fuck, I was stressed.
“Stop squeezing her head, dad!” Ram fired off.
“I said I was sorry!”
“You have one job!” Destiny yelled then moaned. “Oh. Oh. I really need to shit!”
Getting Lizzy’s attention, I muttered, “Is she really going to shit?”
Shrugging like it was nothing, she said, “Probably.”
I don’t know where it came from, but I asked, “Did you shit?”
Grinning devilishly, Lizzy said, “Oh, I peppered the place.”
This was disgusting and hilarious. But I was sitting the next kid out, once was enough for me. “Lizzy!” Destiny wailed. “You have to look!”
“No, honey,” she said softly. “I’m not looking to see if you shit yourself. I love you.”
“Ram!” she panted. “You do it. You look.”
Locking eyes with me, Ram had no idea how to handle it, so I offer, “Look, son, put her at ease.”
“You did this to me, Rambler Hudson! Mr. I want you bare. Mr. I’ll love you forever. You check. You check right now!”
“Okay, Des,” he said, fighting his gag. Slowly moving to the end of the gurney, he raised the sheet, peered in, and gasped.
“Is it a big shit?” Destiny asked nervously. “Oh God, does it smell bad?”
“No,” he said, forcing the word out. The kid was in awe of whatever he was seeing, and I prayed it wasn’t a shit. “I can see the baby’s head, Des.”
“Is it awesome? Does it have your gorgeous hair?”
“Yeah, babe, it’s awesome,” he said, scrubbing his face. “Lots of hair, it’s...unbelievable. God, I love you so much.”
“Come back,” she said through labored breathing. “Hold my hand, Ram. Fuck! The pressure! I need to—”
And then she started to push...
About forty-five minutes later, with one final push, Lucas Rambler Temple, Jr. made his grand appearance.
Lizzy went into mom mode, Ram stayed close to his son and Destiny, while I fell into the chair exhausted.
And hours later, I still didn’t know what touched me the most.
Being part of my grandson’s birth, or having him carry my name.
So when he was put in my arms, I did what any proud grandpa would do.
I became extremely hormotional.
The kids needed their rest like all overtired, new parents do. With Destiny breastfeeding, and Ram waiting on them both hand and foot, they were exhausted. Happy, but exhausted.
Babies, regardless of their temperament, wore you the hell out.
And trust me, our Luke Jr. was the perfect baby.
Curious like his father, serene like his mother, feisty like me, and affectionate like his grandpa.
After Luke had gotten him properly milk-drunk and he slept soundly between us, I spared Jon a thought.
It was fleeting, but it was there. As I guessed it might always be.
It saddened me he missed out on his son and grandson. That his decisions caused so much pain and anger.
That because of it his life was cut short—for real this time.
I even took a moment to remember Jon with Ram when we came home from the hospital. How scared I had been, and how confident he was in my ability to be a good mom.
Even at nineteen, he’d been a good dad. Jon had tried. For as long as he could. He had loved us.
As for this precious baby, he couldn’t ask for a more dedicated grandpa.
Watching Luke with him settled me in ways I hadn’t realized were stirred.
Hell, the first-time LJ was placed in my arms, every maternal instinct I had long thought dormant, rushed to the surface.
Plainly put, Luke and I were naturals.
And we loved this.
As always, Luke’s hand covered my heart.
Though he didn’t say it, I believed it was his way of reminding himself I was real, that I was here.
And I loved him even more for it.
My husband, Ram’s dad, was a born protector.
So when LJ fussed, and Luke shot awake to comfort his grandson, I caught his eyes reminding him that. “I love you, Luke.”
I stared at his perfectly aged face, gray hair, and crinkled eyes, while he whispered back, “Love you, Lizzy.”
Settling back in together, we watched our grandson dream.
And it was in the quiet of the kids’ living room, Luke asked, “Was Ram like this?”
“He was.” I smiled in memory. “Just like this.”
“Did you hold him a lot?”
“Honestly? If I had my way, I wouldn’t have ever set him down. There is no such thing as loving a baby too much.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” he said softly.
“For what?”
“For this. For everything.”
When LJ woke, wanting attention and Luke brought him straight to his chest, I knew it was I that should be thanking him.
Since becoming a single mother, every decision I made, every chance I took, mistake I had made, hinged on when...
It took Luke extending his hand to me outside of that bar, in the lot, to understand when I let go of the past, I could have one hell of a future.
And I did.
I had the love of a lifetime.
They didn’t know it, had no clue. How often I watched them, taking note of the little intricacies that made them special, rare.
A man worthy of her, who would love her, protect her, challenge her was all I ever wanted. It was nothing less than she deserved.
And to bear witness to it...to see her fight that battle, the biggest war she ever fought.
And it was with herself.
Watching my ma lose her heart to Luke was her greatest victory, but I doubt she saw it that way—probably because she rarely thought of herself at all.
That’s the thing about my ma, she never let me see her struggle, never let me carry a single burden.
God, how she fought for me, taught me how to be a good man, and never once let Jon’s dark touch my life.
Since the day I was born she always put me first.
The woman was a law unto herself; a force that no one could contain.
Save Luke, my dad.
The man who confessed his sins thinking I would judge him when what I wanted to do was thank him. For knowing what she needed and making it happen despite all her reasons it shouldn’t.
