by Nicky James
For the following ten minutes, we all admired the beautiful new addition to our family. The nurse, noticing Bryn was struggling with her emotions, asked if she’d like us to leave with the baby so it wouldn’t be so hard. She adamantly shook her head. “I’m okay. I’m happy with my decision.”
Aven asked if Bryn would like to invite her mother back into the room. We were happy to let everyone meet the baby if it was what Bryn wanted.
She agreed, so the nurse went to find her.
It was more than one person who came back with the nurse, and it was a good thing the delivery room was a decent size. Both Bryn’s parents were there along with Arden, Iggy, Bryn’s brother Phoenix and his wife, Carrie, plus a younger sibling I didn’t know. Maggie and Aven’s mom had made it too.
We were surrounded by so much oohing and awing my face hurt from smiling so much. When Arden came up beside me as the baby was being passed around, I smiled at him. “You made it.”
“We caught the first flight this morning, and I made Iggy drive like a maniac to get here once we landed.”
“Glad you didn’t miss it.”
“Congratulations. You guys must be so happy right now.”
My eyes filled again. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to stop crying. “No words. Seriously. My heart is so overwhelmed right now. I hardly know where to put myself.”
“You deserve it. You both do.”
Slowly the room cleared out, and they wheeled Bryn to a private room. One Aven and I had been sure to set up for her. Little Scarlet had to spend the night at the hospital, but we never left her side.
Aven ran back to the house once to collect Scarlet’s carrier seat for the car and the diaper bag we’d had sitting ready for months. He also grabbed us food and a couple of coffees. It’d been a long night and day, but sleep was the furthest thing from both our minds.
Late in the evening, a nurse walked Aven and me through Scarlet’s first bath. I struggled with the squirming wet baby, but Aven caught on fast, so I let him take over. Scarlet didn’t like it much and screamed her little head off making her face all red in the process.
After, Aven and I squished together on a lounge chair in the nursery to give her a bottle. She slept that night in her daddies’ arms. Aven and I simply stared at our miracle the whole time.
The following day, the doctor gave her a check-up, and the official adoption paperwork was finalized. Scarlet was free to go home.
Once she was settled in her little car seat, looking smaller than small, we made one last stop in Bryn’s room to say goodbye and to ensure she knew she would always have a place in our lives.
It was a teary goodbye, and she was clearly struggling, but she smiled through her tears and congratulated us again on our daughter.
Our daughter.
We were parents.
At home with Scarlet for the first time was overwhelming. Aven convinced his mother we’d be okay, and Maggie had to work, so we were officially on our own. No more nurses to walk us through anything. Aven and I shared matching looks of joy mixed with threads of trepidation any new parent faced when taking home a newborn baby.
Scarlet fussed and cried off and on once we got inside, so Aven gently picked her up and rocked her in his arms. The grin on his face lit up the whole room.
“I’ll make her a bottle. Wanna feed her, Daddy?” I asked Aven.
He nodded but couldn’t take his eyes off his little girl. She blinked up at him in wonder, her eyes a dark green with flecks of brown. It took me a few minutes to pry my eyes away and head to the kitchen, but when she scrunched her face and whimpered, I was reminded of her need to eat.
I followed the directions exactly, remembering the nurse's gentle suggestions for making bottles. Once I had a perfectly warmed bottle of formula, I found Aven reclined on the couch with Scarlet lying on his chest. She’d found her thumb and was sucking away, content as can be as she looked around the room.
When Aven saw me, he sat up and cradled her in his arms again, maneuvering her like a pro after only one day. I sat beside him and leaned against his shoulder as we both watched her drink her bottle. She looked at us both in wonder.
It was surreal.
I thought it would probably feel that way for a while.
Aven stopped a few times to burp her over his shoulder, and I cooed and talked to her the whole time. She fell asleep before she could finish the final ounce, and I encouraged Aven to lie down again. I cuddled up against Aven’s side with a hand on Scarlet as we watched her sleep.
“She’s perfect,” Aven whispered. “I still can’t believe she’s real.”
“Me either. It feels like a dream. One I never want to wake up from.”
Aven kissed my forehead, and we continued to watch our daughter—our daughter—until sleep took Aven as well.
I’d expressed concerns months ago that having a baby might mess with all my sleep progress. It was a very real possibility but one we planned to work through together. Things changed sometimes, and routines and structures got turned on their heads, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t fight through and stand strong. I had all the more reason to be healthy now.
I had a family. A wonderful husband and a beautiful little girl.
Life couldn’t be more perfect.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Grayson
We ate at the dining room table and reminisced about old times for hours. More than once, I tried to end the conversation and encourage Beck to finish eating so we could go out for a look around town, but each time, he veered us in a new conversational direction and served himself more dinner. I didn’t miss the shifty eyes or the burst of panic that crossed his face each time, either.
“Remember playing street hockey with the guys from the next block over?” Beck asked. “What were their names? They went to the private school down on Crestbury Drive. Danny or Dillon or something like that and the other kid, Ashton? Asher?”
“David. David and Asher,” Mom corrected. “Those two boys instigated more trouble.”
Beck laughed and pointed the heel of his bread at Mom. “That’s it. David and Asher. Yeah, they had wild ideas sometimes. They were responsible for that broken window at the school.”
“No, you were responsible for that broken window,” I reminded him. “It was you who took the shot.”
“Only because Davy drew the bullseye right beside it. Who does that?”
We’d loved playing street hockey, but often our street was too busy so Mom would shoo us to the school grounds a few blocks away because they had a huge tarmac playground where we could set up nets and have a game. However, when the game got boring, David liked to draw bullseyes on the school walls using chalk, and we’d have competitions to see who could slapshot the puck the closest to the middle. It had been great fun until the day Beck smashed a window and set off the alarms inside the school.
We’d dodged the police for hours until some neighbor ratted us out. I’d been grounded for a week.
“Why don’t we go see the old school?” I suggested.
Beck peeked out the window. Daylight was fading, and he shrugged. “Tomorrow maybe. Won’t see anything in the dark. Mom, this bread is fantastic.”
Beck focused on slicing himself another serving, avoiding eye contact with me altogether.
We finished dinner and I offered to help Mom with clean up. Beck and Dad found a couple beers and relocated out back.
Mom had solar lights lining her gardens, and Dad had hung lanterns around the edges of the covered deck, so it made a perfect place to enjoy the warmer evening when the sun went down.
“It’s so amazing to see you two boys together as a couple,” Mom said as she rinsed the dirty dishes and passed them to me to load into the dishwasher. “I never would have imagined. Beck seems so much happier than when he was a child.”
“He had a rough time at home. You knew that.”
“Of course I did. That’s why I let him stay here so often. What I mean is, I’ve never see
n him smile so much. And the way he looks at you. Oh, Gray.” She sighed and held a hand to her chest. “That boy simply loves you. It’s beautiful.”
“Mom.” My cheeks warmed, but regardless of her embarrassing comment, my heart soared. Being with Beck as a couple was everything I’d imagined and hoped it would be.
“So,” she said, not taking the hint that it was weird talking to her about Beck as my lover. “When are you going to propose?”
“Jesus, Mom. Seriously? We haven’t even been dating a year yet.”
“Nonsense. You two have been attached at the hip since you were eight years old. There isn’t anything you don’t know about him. And Beck knows you inside and out. Probably more so since you’ve taken it to the next level. A few months being a bit closer like that is lots of time to know if you’re… compatible that way.”
I groaned, praying she didn’t say the word sex. The last thing I wanted was to discuss my sex life with my mother. Best friend or not. I didn’t care if Beck was like a second child to her. This conversation wasn’t happening. My dad giving me The Talk when I was fifteen was plenty enough sex conversation for me. Especially when Dad had told me he’d looked up information to appropriately adjust his Birds and Bees stuff to match my sexuality. That day had sucked.
“Mom, as much as I know you want me to get married and settle down, I don’t think Beck is there yet. A year ago, Beck saw himself as straight. This is new for him. He’s only now getting comfortable being out in public. I’m not going to talk marriage with him until I know it won’t freak him out and make him run in the opposite direction.”
Mom tsked as she dug out the soap for the dishwasher. “Beck wouldn’t run. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to be married to you. Besides, you have to think about the future. You two are both in your thirties now. Adoption takes time. You don’t want to be too old when you’re planning a family.”
I almost choked on my spit. “Whoa, back the train up. Family? Beck and I aren’t looking to have kids.”
My mother’s face melted into the most heartbroken expression I’d ever seen, and I back-pedaled, feeling guilty even though it was something Beck and I had agreed upon months ago.
“Yet, Ma. You know, maybe in the future we might. Don’t rush us. In a couple of years, we’ll get married then a few years after that, we can discuss a family. It’s too far ahead to think about. Okay?”
She nodded, but she didn’t look any less hurt. “I understand. I was just hoping to have grandchildren while I was around to enjoy them.”
“You’ve got lots of years, Mom. Don’t think like that.”
She sighed and picked up the cloth to wipe the counters. “You tell me when you plan to propose. I want to help plan this wedding any way I can. You’re my baby, Grayson. This stuff is important to a mother.”
“I know. I will. Just don’t rush me. The last thing I need is to scare Beck off. I’ve waited a long time to have him in my life like this. I don’t want to ruin it.”
The sound of the patio door sliding open ended our conversation. Dad called into the house, “Grayson, grab a few more drinks and join us. It’s a lovely night. Beck was just telling me about your plans for the house.”
Mom and I exchanged a look. She smiled and took me into her arms for a tight hug. “Go spend time with your dad. He missed you too. I’ll try not to be too sad about the grandchildren thing.”
Good grief. She saw right through my lie.
I hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.
Things could change. No one could predict the future.
Later that evening, after my parents had retired to their room, I took Beck up to my old childhood bedroom where we’d had plenty of overnights in the past. Old posters of sexy teenage pop stars still lined my walls. Guys I’d found irresistible when I was younger. Beck snorted as he walked around, examining them.
“NSYNC? Epic, Gray. So hot. You were such a nerd.”
“Shut up. You listen to them too.”
“Only because you forced it down my throat. You didn’t even like them. You just liked this guy. Oh, Justin, he’s so dreamy. Justin, Justin, Justin.” Beck fluttered his eyes and clasped his hands under his chin as he stood beside one of my favorite posters of Justin Timberlake.
“I’m not going to let you knock my first love. My feelings are not hurt. Justin was everything back then. He starred in all my fantasies.”
“After me you mean.” Beck laughed and cut the bullshit as he stared up at the poster. “So, he’s really hot or something, huh?”
I followed his gaze and chuckled. “Pre-pubescent Grayson thought so. Thirty-one-year-old Gray, meh.”
“God, the memories in this room.”
They were endless. We’d spent a lot of time together between these four walls. Playing video games, trading cards, doing homework, talking about anything and everything.
Beck turned and studied the new, queen-sized bed. “So, your mom bought us a bigger bed. That’s… disturbing.”
“Isn’t it. Be glad you missed the conversation I had with her in the kitchen while you were outside with Dad.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I was terrified she was going to ask how our sex life was going. Then she was singing the wedding bells song, and after that, she mentioned kids. When I told her it wasn’t in the cards, I swear her heart broke in half right in front of me.”
“You could have lied.”
I chuckled. “I backtracked and tried. She didn’t buy it.”
“She’s just excited to see us making this happen.”
“I know. I’m pretty stoked about it too. Don’t worry, I won’t let her rush us into anything.”
Beck nodded but dismissed my comment as he went and locked the bedroom door. “So. Wanna try out the new bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows and approached with a cocky swagger that made me laugh.
“Absolutely not. My parents are on the other side of that wall, and the very last thing I need is Mom hearing us having sex. She will probably ask how it was in the morning. She has no boundaries.”
“You’re no fun.”
I snagged his belt loop and drew him into my arms. “I’m plenty of fun. Just not here.” Then I kissed him soundly, enjoying the soft sigh as his body came in contact with mine.
My no sex rule got us until about two thirty in the morning when I woke from a nightmare. They didn’t happen often anymore but we’d gone to bed with no lights on, and my mind was spinning before I’d fallen asleep. I was better, but there were certain combinations that awoke the bad memories.
Beck was right there—as always—soothing and calming me until my heart stopped trying to expel itself from my chest.
Tender, reassuring touches began to wander, and before I knew it, we were naked and stifling moans as we ground and frotted together until we orgasmed.
The rest of the night was uneventful, and I slept deep, much more relaxed and fully sated in Beck’s arms.
The following morning at breakfast everyone was acting strange. Mom had an extra hop in her step and shine in her eyes as she served up the eggs. Dad sat taller and spoke of nonsense stuff that had gone on around town over the past ten years, ending all stories with, “ain’t that right, Beck?”
For a terrifying minute, I was certain they’d heard us last night.
Beck didn’t seem to notice. He nodded along, agreeing with everything Dad said while focusing so hard on his food you’d think he’d never laid eyes on bacon and pumpernickel toast before in his life.
“So what are you boys up to this morning?” Mom asked, a hint of sing-song in her tone.
I stared at her for a beat, trying to sort out her excess chipperness. “Not sure. Did you still want to take a look around town?” I asked Beck.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. I um… need to go wash up. Give me twenty minutes.”
Then he flew from the table like his ass was on fire, and I frowned after him. When I turned questioning eyes on my parents, they both diverted their
focus elsewhere.
I waited in the front room for Beck, doing my best not to obsess over the time. For some reason, I was on edge. When I was the least bit out of sorts, things started slipping from my control. Beck knew this happened. If he didn’t start being more transparent, I was going to need to shake whatever this was out of him before I slipped.
“Ready?” Beck asked, walking into the room. He’d changed into jeans and a long sleeved shirt. His hair was damp from a recent shower which made his curls pull tighter, and he was busy cleaning his glasses on the bottom of his shirt.
“Yeah. Where to?”
Beck glanced at the front door, his mind visibly spinning as he sputtered, “Yeah. Um… I was thinking we could go check out the old elementary school first. You know, like we were talking about last night.”
“Sure.”
I studied his posture as I rose from the couch. He seemed tense again and radiated with nervous energy.
We walked in silence for the first few blocks, admiring the quiet tree-lined streets of our old neighborhood. Little things triggered memories I’d long forgotten, and I smiled a few times remembering old games we’d played and old friends we’d lost touch with.
“Oh shit!” Beck said, stopping beside the driveway of a tan-brick house as he peered along its side. “This is where Wart-face Walter lived.”
“Old man Walter. Holy shit. I forgot about him.”
The man was ancient twenty years ago, and my smile faltered when I realized he was probably long gone now.
“He used to get so pissed at us when we played in his driveway.”
“But he had the best hiding spot for when we played that stupid Killers and Cops game.”
Beck’s head fell back with a laugh. “Right! I forgot about that game. We use to hide on that ledge there by his chimney.”
Old man Walter’s house had a protruding brick chimney running the length of the wall from the roof to the ground. It widened near the bottom, flaring outward and created a ledge that was perfect for hiding behind. If you tucked your body in close to the house’s wall, you couldn’t be seen from the road.
