When will the other shoe drop?
He hoped it wouldn’t happen until they were home and had her settled there, where they could focus on her and get her integrated into her new extended family.
It also didn’t escape him that while Isla had lost her parents and unborn sibling, she’d just gained a large extended family, including friends who were considered family, something she hadn’t had before.
Aunts and uncles out the keister, and the strength of the pod to support her.
Isla climbed up onto her bed. From the look on her face, he suspected she was close to needing a nap. “Emwee, do I call you or Sawn ‘Daddy’?”
Every adult in the room focused on him, including Sawn.
Great. Now I’m calling him that, too.
“Well, sweetie, that’s up to you. You can call us both Daddy if you want. Or you can call us something else.”
She clutched Puppy to her chest. “Aunt Howwy said Mommy and Daddy and the baby, they with the Goddess now.”
He knelt next to the bed, Sean beside him. “Yes, sweetie. I’m sorry.” He glanced at Holly. Her lips were pressed together in a tight, thin line, but she nodded encouragingly to him.
Isla’s voice dropped. “She said they can’t come back.”
Sean reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
She seemed to think that over for a few moments. “My new room overwooks the beach?”
“Yes,” Emery said. “It’ll overlook the beach. You’ll be able to see it all the time.”
“Okay.” She looked up at Helen. “Can I have a sammich, Gwamma?”
“Of course you can, sweetheart.” She reached in and picked her up. “Grandma Louise and I will make you whatever you want.”
They carried her out of the room and downstairs, Holly following in their wake.
Emery realized the room had gone deathly silent. He met Sean’s sweet brown gaze and realized how close to tears his mate was.
As close as he felt himself.
Sam and Joseph looked at each other. Sam had been working on clearing out Isla’s closet, while Joseph was getting the rest of her clothes from the dresser.
“This sucks,” Sean whispered as he rubbed at his eyes. “This really fucking sucks.”
Emery draped an arm around his shoulders. “I know. All we can do is love her and stumble our way through this.”
“You’re both going to do fine,” Sam said with a firm nod. “You boys are good men. Strong men. You’re exactly what she needs in her life right now.”
Joseph walked over to them. “Do you two honestly think I would have let you do this if I didn’t think you were ready for it? I would have been the first one telling you it was a bad idea. Have I ever hesitated to speak my mind with either of you?”
Emery shook his head, as did Sean.
“Good. I know this isn’t an ideal situation. But it could have been a lot worse. She could have been there when it happened. She could have been older. Yes, she’s going to grieve, but as Holly said, she’s very young. Resilient. You might not be able to see it right now, but this will be okay in the long run.”
Chapter Six
Isla had fallen asleep on the couch, her blanket and Puppy tightly clutched to her. Sean had located the boxes for the Christmas ornaments in the closet of a spare bedroom and got the special ornaments packed.
He also packed Isla’s Hello Kitty stocking, as well as the stockings for her parents, that had been hung from the bookshelf next to the tree.
And the baby book that would never be used beyond the few entries already in it.
When she was older, she might want those things. He wouldn’t make that decision for her when it wasn’t his to make.
Just like they wouldn’t do anything with her parents’ cremains except put them in nice urns and keep them safe for her.
They’d also taken all the family pictures they could find on the walls, in photo albums, and packed in storage tubs. Their laptops, too, and a couple of binders of DVDs labeled “Backups.”
They didn’t want to risk missing pictures.
Ken also went through Kelley’s jewelry box, giving them the items from it. He explained the origins of a few that he was familiar with. Like Kelley’s parents’ wedding rings, William’s grandfather’s watch, and others.
They already had Kelley and William’s wedding rings, found in their car with their other belongings, left there when they swam out.
Sean’s desperate sadness etched away at his joy over becoming a father with Emery. He tried to focus on the present, on doing what they needed to do for Isla, in the present, but it was still difficult. He didn’t want to screw this up, wanted to make sure he didn’t erase Isla’s parents in her mind, and yet didn’t want them to be ghosts forever haunting her childhood and tainting it with ever-present sadness, either.
Fortunately, Ken told them he would handle all the legalities, including obtaining death certificates and making sure their contacts in law enforcement handled the reporting in as low-key a manner as possible to keep attention to the deaths a minimum.
The women emptied the freezer, fridge, and pantry of food that would spoil, filling the large rolling garbage bin and leaving it by the curb. Apparently trash day was the next day, based on the number of other bins already appearing and overflowing with holiday detritus.
As Sean strapped Isla into her car seat, he took another look around the quiet cul-de-sac they lived on. It saddened him to know this was what the Shorlins’ lives had been reduced to, a box truck full of their little girl’s stuff and their memorabilia.
Ken’s son would take the box truck to his house, where he lived in a rural area and could park it until they were ready to leave tomorrow afternoon after the hearing was over. The rest of them returned to the hotel for a somber dinner at the restaurant there.
Only Isla seemed to brighten, refreshed from her nap. She chattered with everyone and asked questions about Englewood and her new family.
When she finished with her macaroni and cheese, she sat back in her high chair and looked at everyone with a very adult expression.
“I made a decision,” she declared.
Sean pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “And what decision is that, sweetheart?”
She pointed at him. “I’ll call you ‘Da.’” She pointed at Emery. “I’ll call him ‘Daddy.’”
He exchanged a quick glance with Emery, praying he didn’t burst out laughing, otherwise he’d lose it, too. “Okay, that’s fine with me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Good. Wanna know why?”
Ken proved to be the weakest link. From his end of the large table, he started laughing. “I warned you boys.”
Emery’s amused gaze danced across Sean’s before refocusing on Isla. “Why, sweetheart?”
She pointed at him. “Your name longer. Emwee.” She pointed at Sean. “His name shorter. Sawn.” She nodded again, as if it should have been clear to everyone.
Grandma Louise snorted as she tried to take a sip of water. “Oh, boy. You two will certainly have your hands full.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom,” Emery said.
“I’m just saying.”
* * * *
As Ken had predicted, the hearing the next morning went quickly, taking less than fifteen minutes. Just after lunch, they left Orlando, their caravan one vehicle larger with the box truck following them.
Sean felt utterly drained emotionally, as well as guilty that Emery had done all the driving, when they turned onto Beach Road for the final leg of their journey home.
Isla perked up in her car seat. She pointed out the window at the Intracoastal as they drove over the Tom Adams Bridge. “Water!”
“Yep, water.”
When their small caravan turned into their driveway, Sean spotted Wyatt’s car among the many Nadel family cars also there. The alligator shifter and his dolphin shifter mate walked downstairs with the others to greet them. Sean unfastened Isla’s
car seat straps and held her. They introduced the others, Emery’s brother and sisters. Then Wyatt and Marisela stepped forward.
“Hey, man,” Wyatt said, embracing Emery, then Sean. “This the new addition?” Wyatt asked in his Cajun drawl.
Isla cocked her head. “You talk funny.”
The gator shifter flashed a broad smile. “I know, sweetheart.” He pointed at Marisela. “You think I talk funny, Little ’Un, wait’ll you hear her accent.”
Sean appreciated Wyatt’s attempt at humor, but his nerves were strained. All he wanted to do was get her inside and fed, get her things unloaded, and begin the long task of settling her into their home and lives. “Isla, this is…your Uncle Wyatt and Aunt Marisela.”
The toddler frowned, reaching out to stroke Wyatt’s ebony skin. “He don’t look like you.”
Wyatt laughed again.
“They’re adopted family.” A lightbulb went on in his head. “Just like we’re adopting you.”
“Good save, babe,” Emery silently told him through their mate-bond.
“First of many, I’m sure,” he wearily shot back.
Isla finally nodded. “Okay. Is that the beach?” She pointed past the house.
“Holy no attention span, Batman.”
Emery arched an eyebrow at him but didn’t reply.
“Yes,” Sean told her, “but let’s get you upstairs first.”
“Gotta go potty.”
“Exactly. I figured.” Emery and the others helped grab her stuff from the truck so Sean could get Isla taken care of. Unloading and schlepping everything upstairs into the stilt house would take a little while, even with all the help and the elevator.
When Sean got her upstairs and into the house, he was surprised to find a baby gate much like the ones that had been at the Shorlin house at the bottom of the stairs.
Wyatt, who’d followed him upstairs with the diaper bag and other stuff from inside the truck, patted him on the shoulder. “Me and Chris decided to do a little baby-proofin’ for y’all. The cabinets in the kitchen have baby latches, and we put those plug things in the outlets. We also already emptied that guest room for you that you said you were puttin’ her in. Moved the furniture into the smaller one for now.” He smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks, dude.” Sean was afraid if he thought about it too long he might burst into tears.
And he definitely didn’t want to do that in front of everyone.
Especially in front of Isla. Not right now.
He got her upstairs into the bathroom closest to what was now her bedroom. He was about to close the bathroom door when both grandmothers peered in.
“Everything all right?” his mom asked.
“I got it, Mom. But thanks.”
Neither of them moved.
Isla put her tiny hands on her hips. “We got it, Gwammas.”
Louise laughed. “All right, hint taken. We’ll go help unload.”
When they left, Isla looked up at Sean and nodded.
He smiled and nodded back.
* * * *
It was nearly eleven o’clock when they finally got everyone to leave and Isla settled into her bed. They left her bedroom door open, as well as their own, in case she called out to them in the night. Two nightlights now illuminated the hallway as well.
Sean hoped Emery wasn’t feeling romantic, because he felt drained physically and emotionally and wanted to do nothing but snuggle. In fact, they’d curled up in each other’s arms and it felt like he’d just gotten to sleep when he felt a tug on his foot.
He lifted his head looked down to the end of the bed. The top of Isla’s head was just barely visible.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She mumbled something around the thumb jammed in her mouth.
Emery reached over and snapped on the bedside lamp while Sean climbed out of bed and picked her up. She also had her free arm curled around Puppy.
“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.
“Sweep with you tonight,” she mumbled around her thumb. “Pwease?”
He looked at Emery. Personally, he didn’t have the heart to say no. Not when it was her first night in their home with them and she sounded forlorn.
Emery nodded and scooted over to his right, patting the mattress on his left. “There’s plenty of room for a punkin’ to join us.”
Sean set her down on the bed and she walked over to Emery, plopping down next to him and snuggling her head against his chest.
Sean returned to bed while Emery switched off the light. The nightlights in the hall cast a soft glow, and within a couple of minutes, the toddler was lightly snoring between them.
Sean rolled onto his right side to watch her sleep. “How long do we let her do this?”
Emery shrugged. “Do you really want to be the one to tell her no tonight?”
“Hell, I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever tell her no. Unless it’s about safety stuff or a boy or something.”
Emery smiled. “At least we can let Uncle Wyatt be the bad guy there.”
* * * *
Sean awoke to an empty bed the next morning, and the sound of Emery and Isla singing something downstairs. As sleep slowly released its grip on his system, he realized they were belting out Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville” at the top of their lungs.
And Isla definitely sounded more on-key than Emery.
He used the bathroom and made his way downstairs, where they were now tackling “Volcano” with the same vocally uncoordinated gusto. Isla sat on the counter by the sink, watching while Emery made French toast in the electric skillet sitting on the stove.
“Good mornin’, Da!” she brightly said. “We makin’ French toast.”
Sean froze in his tracks as Emery looked over at him. “Babe?”
The man he loved, and their daughter, in their kitchen, cooking breakfast.
It was like something out of a weird Norman Rockwell montage.
He closed his eyes to give himself a moment to think before smiling. “I’m okay. Just…adjusting.” He walked over to Isla and scooped her into his arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How’s our princess this morning?”
“Hungry!”
He was about to say something when someone knocked on their front door.
“Oh,” Emery said with a playful grin. “I meant to tell you your mom called. She’s on the way.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He barely got the door open when his mom rushed through it, widely smiling when she spotted Isla in his arms. “There’s my baby girl!”
“Gwamma Helen!” Isla happily squealed as Sean handed her over.
Resistance was futile. Not when there was a determined grandmother on the move.
Sean had started to close the door when he heard his dad speak up. Sean looked to find him just making his way to the deck from the stairs. “Why didn’t you take the elevator? You could have hit the intercom buzzer and we would have sent it down for you.”
He pointed at where Helen had disappeared. “I haven’t seen your mother move so fast in years. She practically ran up the stairs. By the time I remembered the elevator, she was already halfway up.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You realize she’s already plotting how to spoil her rotten, right?”
Sean smiled. “Yeah, Dad. Kind of got that memo already.”
“Good.”
Chapter Seven
Sean flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Their first full day of parenting their daughter at their home had ended.
He felt exhausted. His mom had stayed all day, and then they’d had visitors and family nonstop.
“You all right, babe?” Emery asked.
“No.”
He rolled onto his side. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean what’s wrong? Seriously?”
“I need a hint.”
“We’re parents.”
Emery smiled. “Yes? And?”
Sean looked at him. “How t
he hell are we going to raise a kid?”
Emery’s smile faded. “Are you reconsidering this?”
“Fuck, no.”
Emery arched an eyebrow at him. “Then you have me confused. What’s the problem?”
“How the hell do we not screw her up?”
“That’s your worry?”
“Yeah. Duh. Isn’t it yours?”
He chuckled. “Sean, here’s a hint for you my mom gave me. Every parent worries they’re going to screw up their kids. If they don’t worry about that, then there’s something seriously wrong with them. Like psychotically wrong.”
“Really?”
“Really. They might not admit it to others, but they’re thinking it. That’s healthy and normal human nature.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good, because I’m not afraid to admit to you or anyone else that I’m scared shitless.”
“The good kind of scared?”
“Yeah.”
Emery reached over and laced his fingers through Sean’s. “We’ll love her and raise her and guide her and protect her the best we can. That’s all we can do.”
He pondered that for a few moments. “I still say we send Wyatt along with her on all her dates.”
“I think that’s being a little overprotective, but ask me again when she’s fourteen and starts dating.”
Sean’s jaw dropped.
“What?” Emery asked.
“Fourteen? Fourteen? What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“No fucking way is she dating at fourteen. Seventeen, maybe. Eighteen…well, only because at that point I can’t stop her short of duct tape and a shock collar, but I won’t be happy with it.”
Emery leaned in and kissed Sean, slowly, sweetly, tenderly, temporarily driving all thoughts of their little girl dating out of his brain.
When Emery finally lifted his lips from Sean’s, he whispered, “My parents let my sisters date at fourteen. They had to be chaperoned, but they let them go out. And you know how protective my dad is.”
Sean rested his forehead against Emery’s. “I don’t have to like it,” he muttered.
Porpoisefully Yours Page 5
