by A. Marie
The smile on my face wobbles as I take in the scene around me. The four men surrounding me at the group of tables we’re seated at are so busy in their banter with each other that they don’t notice my emotions running on high. They’ve been that way all week but kicked up a notch seeing my brothers finally sitting all together for a meal again. And with our mom nearby.
Sunbrook’s kitchen staff pushed a few tables together for our gathering on my day off. I thought it’d be good for everybody if we all visited Mom at the same time instead of individually. It might blow up in our faces or we might find our balance fully restored while leaning against each other like we used to. Either way, it’s time. After watching each of my siblings come in for solo visits only to leave complete wrecks, I suggested trying it as a whole. Not just as pieces of our jumbled puzzle of a family, but as a united front. An unbreakable force that Mom will feel even if she can’t show it. It’s like Beckett said, I have to believe in my love for her but also her love for us. We know it’s there even if we can’t see it and that’s what matters. She is what matters, to all of us.
She isn’t getting any better though sadly. Her bouts of lucidity are less frequent these days even though I’ve had her meds adjusted and fully returned to her prescribed dosages. I’m getting ready to take over Vernon’s position in a matter of months and I can’t wait. I’ll be on days, too, so I’ll get more time with my mom—however long that may be—and more time with Beckett. Well, more nights with him. He does a pretty good job already with making our nearly opposite schedules work. He’s in here so much, he’s even got his own favorites. And surprise, surprise, he’s everybody’s favorite as well.
Deciding it’s time to reintroduce ourselves, I walk over to invite our mom to join us, relaxing when she agrees.
Even though I know she’s not the same person she was from my childhood and never will be again, the pain from that knowledge doesn’t stop from piercing a hole in my heart just the same. I miss my mother with every molecule in my body. We all do.
An hour later the hurt I feel down to my marrow is mirrored back on each of my brothers’ faces but it’s not as debilitating. It’s manageable. There’s comfort in collective suffering. To know you’re hurting is one thing, to see you’re not the only one is another.
Tysen stands out of nowhere, pulling my attention away from my mother’s untouched plate of food. She still isn’t eating as much as she should be.
“What’s up, boss?”
My gaze swings over my shoulder to see Beckett strolling across the cafeteria with a broad smile stretching his face and a…
Is that a baby?
Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s a baby doll. A girl baby doll to be exact. With a mess of dark waves covering the face.
Ignoring my questioning stare, he leans down to peck my lips before shaking hands with Ty and nodding to my other brothers. Tysen now manages the second location of Pop The Hood. Him and Angela. Apparently, Coty worked out some kind of deal that made her a partner as well. One that she only agreed to under the condition that none of the guys had a say over her decisions anymore. They even held a family meeting and everything where Beckett threw every argument he could think of at her, all with a teasing smile plastered to his face. He’s such a shithead.
And I love him so much.
They all figured it out and she now spends her time between both locations as does my boyfriend. He’s in high demand.
I let my gaze fall over him, seeing he’s not wearing one of his typical biker shirts but a crisp white tee pulled tight over those muscles I never get tired of exploring and jeans hung low on his tapered waist.
Very high demand.
A chill runs through the room, or just me maybe, and I pull my cardigan a little tighter against my front.
He must’ve dropped his coat off upfront on his way in. It’s one of those cold April days today where the wind absolutely whips but that doesn’t stop him from riding still.
Did he ride his Ninja here with that doll? How? And why?
He’s freshly showered, too, even though I know he had work today. He was planning on only working a half day since he knew I’d be busy with my family for a few hours, otherwise he would’ve taken the day off, too. His busiest day and he takes it off regularly just to be with me. I try to go in with him from time to time but homework has been kicking my ass every which way lately. Especially this week it seems. I’m just so exhausted the second I even look at an assignment.
Eyes tracking him, he positions himself in the seat next to my mom, giving her a view of what’s in his hands then he…plays with it. Legit plays with the baby doll. Like coos at it and tickles its plastic belly.
The boys all look to me with identical expressions but all I can do is nod. Yes, my boyfriend has lost his mind. What other possible explanation could there be for him pretending a fake baby is real and next to our mother of all places?
Despite Beckett blowing raspberries at a dolly and making me genuinely concerned for his mental health, my family feels complete in this moment. More than it has in years. Even with how happy I was to get all of us Christensens together, it still felt like a piece was missing. A piece of me.
But he’s here now and that feeling is gone.
I glance around the table, at each face occupying it, and grin as my chest fills with solid warmth.
“Hey, Beckett? What are you doing?” I ask around a smirk.
My overly tall, yet boyishly handsome boyfriend just winks over at me before turning to my mom, telling her, “I came to eat lunch with my girl over there.” Motioning his chin at me, I can only smile warmly when my mother meets my gaze. “Do you mind helping me out by taking over for a little bit?”
Before she can even fully answer, he places the baby doll in her arms, sits back down, and looks at her with a hopefulness I’m all too familiar with.
Shit.
Getting to my feet, Jesse puts his hand up to stop me and I drop back down.
Every single one of my brothers and I are fully captivated, rooted in our spots, witnessing our mother break into the first smile she’s given all day. And it’s directed at the tiny bundle she’s now cuddling.
Helplessly mesmerized, we all watch on as she pushes the baby’s crazy locks away from the face and beams down at the doll with pure delight.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Her glistening gaze lands back on Beckett before quickly returning to the baby.
Gently, Beckett says, “It’s her eyes. They get me every time.”
When I turn to him though, he’s not looking anywhere near my mother, he’s staring right at me.
A few blinks and a giggle, an actual fucking giggle, and my mom replies, “I can see why. She reminds me of my little girl. Not my boys though. Oh, they were good-looking, too, but nothing like her. She could quiet a room with those eyes.”
My hand flies to my mouth as I hear one of the boys suck in their breath but I’m not sure which one because I can’t tear my eyes away from our mother as she bounces the wad of blankets that harbors a memory none of us could evoke in our hour together.
Beckett encourages her to continue, his comforting voice blending with hers to glaze over the cracks in our family, sealing them from the outside in, while helping us to latch onto the smallest of details from our past.
Other residents join in the excitement and soon there’s a whole melee of long forgotten memories being shared. Whether they’re real or not I’m not completely sure but it feels like actual progress. More than I’ve encountered since working at Sunbrook.
I glimpse several wet eyelashes around the room and know I’m not the only one thinking the same thing. Could this be a new form of therapy? Could it help long term?
Sneaky Hope creeps back in, wanting a spot at the table, too, and this time I let her for a change, instead of cursing her stubborn existence in my life.
“Why don’t you hang on to that one for me?”
Too focused on the scene in front of
me, I miss Beckett standing at my side until his hand falls on my shoulder, turning me to face him.
Keeping his eyes on mine, he says to my mother, “I’ve got my own to look forward to anyway.”
He can’t know. Not yet. I barely know.
Much quieter, he rasps out, “I read this article online about the happiness babies bring to Alzheimer’s patients and how sometimes they can spark recognition when everything else fails. I thought it was worth a try today with all of you here.” Gesturing to my brothers who have now tuned into our conversation as well, he continues, “I figured even if it didn’t work, it’d still be good practice for me. For us.”
Guiding me out of my seat, Beckett wraps his impossibly long arms around my back, gazing down at me through shimmery pools of his own.
New tears meet up with my earlier ones and they all fall down my face freely as his Adam’s apple bobs a couple times.
“Funny thing is you can find a lot online if you know what to search for. Like symptoms your girlfriend is experiencing who just so happened to miss her period.” A hiccup escapes my trembling lips. “You made my dreams come true the day you walked into my life and you’ve been chasing out the bad ever since, but I’d gladly live through nightmares for the rest of my life if you’ll grant me another wish.”
Somehow, through another round of sobs, I manage an incredulous laugh, asking, “What’s that?”
Beckett drops to his knees, both knees, and clasps my hips tenderly, bringing his face in line with my newly occupied belly. “That our daughter will look just like you. Your hair, your eyes. I want a baby Dream running around our new home.”
A hand in his hair, I tilt his head back, locked onto his blue eyes, misty like ocean spray on a sunny day.
As soon as the ground thawed enough to start construction on the property Beckett purchased near Coty and Angela, he got a crew out there to start work on the design Coty helped us sketch up for the house we’ll be moving into later this year. I didn’t think we’d be filling one of those spare rooms we spoke about this soon though. We’ve been careful. Except when we weren’t.
“And if it’s a boy?” I ask, my voice shaking as bad as my hands.
Yesterday, I snuck off to the doctor to confirm what the at-home test had already showed—that I was, in fact, pregnant. I was planning to tell him tonight but he beat me to it by doing what he always does, by paying attention. Only a few weeks along, there’s no way for either of us to know what the gender is yet but that won’t stop Beckett from trying to bend the situation to his every whim with his sheer determination alone.
“Even better.” His lips pull into a smile and he stands, cupping the back of my head with a hand to plant a kiss to both corners of my mouth. “Then when his sister does come along he’ll get to look out for her the way your brothers did for you,” he nods over to my four brothers, “and he’ll love her the same way my brothers chose to care about me.” He nods over my shoulder and I turn my head to see Coty, Marc, and Angela standing in the doorway to the lunchroom and release a watery laugh. With smiles on their faces, they watch on just like the rest of my family. Our family.
Harmonic convergence.
Want more of the Creekwood Crew? Find bonus material along with links for playlists and inspiration boards on my website.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First of all, a huge thank you to you for taking a chance on me and reading Changing Lanes. As a reader myself, I know how many books there are to choose from and I’m truly grateful that you chose to spend some time with these characters that are so dear to my heart.
Next up, my three beautiful kids. (They’re banned from reading this or any of my other romance novels until they’re over thirty years old but I let them read this one and only paragraph.) You three are the epitome of what I wish I could be in life. You’re supportive, you’re understanding, and your unwavering courage inspires me to be brave enough to go after what I want every day. You never, ever make me feel bad for spending countless hours in fictional worlds with fictional characters that do not adhere to a 9-5 schedule. Thank you for letting me be me with only encouragement and positivity. I love you more than I could ever write in a paragraph. You know this. You hav my heart, forever and always.
To my hubby, thank you for loving this girl. The one that used to only bleed punchlines and smile the bandages to cover them but now has more to laugh for, more to love for, more to live for. Thank you for sticking it out with me while I figured that out and loving me through it all.
To my main girl Shanna C., you already know. But in case you don’t, I love ya. Oh, how much I value you and your infinite help. You are a true gem and I’m so grateful we crossed paths. Forever and ever and ever, let’s do this.
To Sarah P., my editor, you are a light. Really. I appreciate how you go about your business and how much you truly love what you do. It shows. Thank you for your endless help and insight.
Julie D., your eagle eye will be missed, truly. If I could have your attention to detail on all my books for all of eternity, I would, but for now, I’m incredibly grateful I got you on two. You’ve helped me grow so much in just that short amount of time and I’m so happy I experienced your expertise, even if for a moment. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
Murphy Rae, I’m still pinching myself that I got you to design my covers. Your work is phenomenal and I’m honored to have the chance to showcase some of it on my books. Thank you!
Stacey B., thanks for making my books look a million times better than I ever could! Seriously, thank you.
Stephanie Rinaldi, dang girl, I should list what you don’t help me with, that might be quicker. You are such an amazing person and I’m so glad I get to call you my friend. I appreciate every single bit of your support. Thank you for constantly being willing to give it to me.
Self-publishing a romance novel felt a little like showing up to the lunchroom on the first day of high school. You don’t know where to sit but the empty spots suddenly being filled with backpacks as you walk by speak volumes. But so do the genuine authors that go out of their way to make room for you next to them. Thank you to the authors that have always made a spot for me at their tables. I really appreciate it and you.
To all of my insta-fam, the ones that have stuck it out with me and buckled in for the long haul—wherever I go, whatever I choose to do, you’re down to go alongside me, support fully in place, and I love you for it. Thank you.
For all the bloggers, ‘grammers, and readers that helped spread the word for this release—thank you so much! I continue to be blown away by the support you all have given an unknown like me.
To my Nantucket ladies, thank you. Always.
Huge thanks to Tara K for your nursing insights.
And lastly, thank you to Jo and Give Me Books Promotions.
