by Stacy Gail
“A sailor suit?” Heart melting at the sight of her little man decked out like the original Cracker Jack kid, complete with teeny sailor hat and red kerchief under the white collar, Scout did a fangirl squeal. “Oh, my God, he’s gorgeous! Do you see how gorgeous he is? Ivar, quick, get your camera, he’s still fully clothed.”
“No way I can make it in time.” Well aware at how fast his kid could shuck clothes, Ivar frantically dug through his pockets for this phone. “Maman, hold him still for as long as you can. This is a great shot.”
Absolutely in love, Scout captured Gunnar’s little dimpled hand and kissed it. “Eliane, where did you get that outfit? I’m dying of the cute.”
“I have remained friends with several designers from the old days. When I shared Gunnar’s birthday pictures online with you and Ivar, they all went so crazy, wanting to make him little outfits to match your Rockabilly style.” Eliane laughed delightedly and intercepted the move Gunnar made toward his hat. “This boy, who cannot stand clothes, will never be without a closet full of haute couture from all his adopted aunts and uncles around the world.”
Scout rolled her eyes. “Thanks, irony, for the joke.”
“I hope you do not mind that I brought a few extra changes for Gunnar as well,” Eliane added, her laughter fading as she shot her an anxious glance. “I would never want to overstep my bounds—”
“Please tell me you didn’t just say that.” With her heart melting all over again, Scout hugged both her mother-in-law and son, vaguely hearing the shutter sound effect of Ivar’s phone. “You’re the way a grandmother should be—absolutely wonderful.”
It was true. Eliane had slowly blossomed since Scout had brought her and her lost son together. In a strange way, that blossoming had intensified with the death of Albertine, whose funeral had been attended by no one other than a distant cousin from overseas. The old baroness’s narcissistic influence was finally gone from the earth, leaving Eliane free to grow into the happy woman she was meant to be.
And she was happy. When Scout had found out she was pregnant with Gunnar, she honestly didn’t know who was more excited—her and Ivar, or Eliane. Her mother-in-law had never had the chance to raise her own child, and that was an anguish that Scout knew had never fully faded. This was the reason why she would never begrudge anything Eliane did when it came to Gunnar. The privilege of raising her own child could never be given back to Ivar’s mother, but she could share in the experience of watching her grandson grow up. It wouldn’t fix all that went wrong, but Scout hoped that it could at least ease the ache.
A dragging pain low in her belly caught her attention just as Eliane backed up to bestow a brilliant smile on her. “Perhaps we should be grateful he likes to shed his clothing. This means we get to dress him up all the more.”
“Remind me how grateful we should feel the next time Gunnar chooses to be a public exhibitionist,” Ivar offered, taking a few more shots before grinning at his mother. “We will never be able to go back to The Mark after he streaked through the main dining area.”
“Yeah, and to this day I still don’t know what happened to his onesie and diaper. It’s a mystery that ranks right up there with Jimmy Hoffa’s whereabouts.” And the origins of like that mysterious pain. Maybe she needed to take it easy, after all.
Eliane laughed and handed her grandson over to Ivar, then bent to pick up the sailor hat so she could drop it back on Gunnar’s dark head. “At the very least, this little one will keep you on your toes.”
The pain hit again, stronger this time, and it was enough to spark a reaction. Oh, boy. She knew this pain.
About damn time.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be right back.” With a smile that encompassed the three Fournier generations, she headed straight for the stage, all the while trying to breathe evenly. When the song came to an end, she applauded and stepped up to the mic, her insides quaking with a crazy mixture of excitement and anxiety, but above all, joy.
“I hope everyone’s having a great time tonight here at Rick’s Place,” she began, and looked out at the faces that, over the years, had become her world. From Tonya and Sass and all the other strays, to the Panuzzi children and their children, to Mama Coco and Papa Bolo—they all meant so much to her. But one face stood out above all others, and as her eyes found Ivar’s, she knew why. He was the center of her world and the family they’d built together.
He was her home.
“Usually the person who throws the anniversary party stays to the very end, but I’m afraid that Ivar and I will be making it an early night tonight, for, uh, obvious reasons.” She indicated her stomach, which looked like she’d swallowed a pumpkin whole. “But before we leave, we’ve got some great dancers lined up to entertain you, and they know how to put the swing in swing dance. We’ve got the buffet and dessert tables open, as well as a fully stocked bar, and as always, we’re busy building the Panuzzi family tree on the far end of the ballroom. Last but not least, I wanted to thank all of you for coming together tonight to celebrate the life and love that has lasted for forty-nine years—or, possibly fifty,” she added with a grin. “Please raise a glass to the inspiring marriage of Coco and Bolo Panuzzi.”
Applause broke out and glasses were raised in the direction of the head table. Grinning wide and surrounded by kids and grandkids, Mama Coco and Papa Bolo raised their own glasses and clinked them together before sharing a kiss. It was a sweet moment, one that always made Scout smile, and one that she fully understood why Ivar wanted to have with her decades down the road. But this time around, it would be memorable for another reason entirely.
In front of nearly two hundred friends and family, her water broke.
Oh, great.
The suite’s door whispered shut behind Ivar. A pull-out bed was neatly made and waiting for him to stretch out, but as much as that welcoming surface beckoned, he knew he wouldn’t touch it.
That was not where he belonged.
Beside the bed, a crib decked out in blues and whites had been set up. Dropping the extra diaper bag next to a matching changing table, he moved to peek inside the crib. Gunnar slept peacefully on his stomach, his diaper in one corner of the bed and his soft footie pajamas in another. He laughed under his breath at his little naked jaybird and carefully laid a hand on the tiny back.
In the quiet of the room, the reassuring rise and fall of his child’s breathing settled a beautiful peace over his soul, and he closed his eyes to drink it in. Before Gunnar had been born, Ivar had never known this depth of serenity. Not even in the arms of his treasure, his Scout, had he known this kind of peace. It came from attaining a dream he hadn’t even known he’d had, he realized now. A dream to build a family of his own. To build a place where he and his family belonged, and where the love of that family was unconditional.
That was what his life was now.
And it was all because of Scout.
Soft murmurs from the other room dragged his attention away from the sleeping toddler. As silently as possible he removed his son’s discarded garments from the crib and settled a soft blanket over him. He then moved to the next room in the birthing suite, awash in the shadows of early morning. Mama Coco stood on one side of Scout’s inclined bed, holding his wife’s hand while the doula who had taken care of Scout throughout the delivery puttered around a cart-like bassinet. As he stood in the doorway, his heart paused as he took in the scene—the gentle, maternal love shining in Coco’s smile, the tired but glowing face of his Scout, and the little swaddled bundle in the bassinet. A pink placard at the foot of it announced its occupant’s name.
Coco Eliane Fournier.
His daughter.
Just when he’d thought his life couldn’t get any better, it granted him gifts he probably didn’t deserve, but cherished with all his heart.
“Hello, Trouble.”
His head came around, and he had to blink away the blurriness to find both Coco and Scout watching him with identical beaming smiles. Caught in the act, he open
ed his mouth to ask how she was, but what came out was, “I love our family so much.”
All three women made little cooing sounds, which instantly made him want to disappear. Should’ve kept his damn mouth shut. Then Coco left Scout’s side to come to him, arms out, tear tracks clearly visible on her lined face.
“You did it, cutie,” she whispered as he took her in his arms and carefully hugged her fragile frame. “You broke the one-kid-only curse of the strays. And you did it by giving my girl so much love and security she knew she was safe enough to give the same to her children. I’m so grateful to you, son. So, so grateful.”
Damn, the blurriness was back again. “She gives me just as much, Mama Coco. And even more than that.”
“I know she does, because we’re all strays in some form or another. That’s why it’s so important for our kids to have someone in their lives. It means that they’re secure enough to open themselves up to another person. And as for settling down and having kids… well, I wouldn’t have made my family if I hadn’t felt safe in the care of my Bolo, and you wouldn’t have started your family if Theresa hadn’t made you feel safe, too.”
His arms tightened for a moment before he let her go, and in that time he managed not to choke to death on the knot clogging up his throat. “Started? You make it sound like we are not done yet.”
“Who knows what the future will bring? Now that you’ve named your little girl after me, Bolo’s gonna be hell to live with until you make a boy so you can name it after him. You have been warned.” With one last blown kiss to Scout and a smitten little kiss for her namesake, Coco departed along with the doula, who promised to be only a button-press away.
Quiet settled in the room as he came to sit carefully on the edge of Scout’s bed, situating himself between her and their daughter so he could have a hand on each. And as he did, one hand clasped so lovingly with his wife’s while the other rested on the warm bundle of life that was his little girl, his mind reeled at how lucky he was.
“I do not know how you managed to avoid having our little Coco on the same date as your foster parents’ anniversary,” he said, smiling into Scout’s eyes. She looked tired from five hours of labor, and her sable brown hair—currently streaked with shocking pink—was pulled back in a plain ponytail that she’d usually turn her nose up at in favor or something far more elaborate. In his eyes, though, this woman who was his world had never been more beautiful. “But it is official. Coco Eliane came into this world two minutes after midnight. Well done, ma trésor.”
“It would’ve sucked to have her birthday eclipsed by an already-established special day,” Scout said, smiling up at him. “When she’s old enough, I’ll regale her with wild tales of how I struggled and strained to make sure she had her own special day, thinking only of her happiness while sacrificing my poor, exhausted bod just to hold her birth off long enough for a new day to dawn. Because that’s what good mothers do.”
“She will be grateful, I am sure.”
“It makes for a good guilt-trip story, anyway. Time will tell if we’ll ever have to use it.”
“If she is as perfect as her mother, then I doubt we ever will.”
“Ivar. Sweetheart.” Her eyes softened with a look he never tired of seeing, because he knew what it was. That look was love, and he could recognize it because it was something he felt every moment of their life together. “That’s the sweetest, most deluded thing you’ve ever said. If our little Coco Bean is anything like me, we should consider getting her microchipped just so we can keep tabs on her.”
“Coco Bean?” He laughed, then turned their daughter’s way when she snuffled. “I think she heard you, Mama.”
“See? She’s a handful already.”
“Yes, she is.” Very carefully, he picked up his little girl and settled her in the crook of his arm. Good God, she was tiny, this perfect little human being. As he settled himself back beside Scout, he looked down at their daughter’s sleeping face and knew he’d never forget this moment with his wife, son and daughter all within reach for the first time. “I love our life so much, my Scout. I never knew it could be so beautiful.”
“Neither did I, sweetheart.” Her smile was exquisite, and as he leaned over to caress her lips over his, he watched happy tears sparkle like diamonds in her eyes. “It’s so good to finally know there’s a place for me in this world.”
“Your place is by my side, and our children’s.” He rested his forehead against hers and let the sense of being complete wash through him. “No matter how many other things in this world change, that is one thing that will forever stay the same. Yes?”
“Yes,” she whispered, smiling.
Author’s Note
Hi again! I just love, love, LOVE hearing from readers, did you know that? Please feel free to drop me a line at [email protected], or follow me on Twitter or Facebook. If you mention that you’ve read House Of Payne, I promise to follow back and say hi! :)
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There’s more lust, lies and love to be had in the House that Payne built. Look for these titles in the coming months:
House Of Payne: Twist
House Of Payne: Rude
About the Author
A competitive figure skater from the age of eight, Stacy Gail began writing stories in between events to pass the time. By the age of fourteen, she told her parents she was either going to be a figure skating coach who was also a published romance writer, or a romance writer who was also a skating pro. Now with a day job of playing on the ice with her students, and writing everything from steampunk to cyberpunk, contemporary to paranormal at night, both dreams have come true.
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