Seeing Augusta reach for him was like glimpsing Heaven. He never would’ve expected it in a million years. He also never realized how much he craved it, needed it. The unschooled look on her face the moment she saw him was pure joy at his presence. John couldn’t remember if anyone had ever gifted him that look before.
It lasted just a second or two, but it would linger in his heart for an eternity. It said so much, two hazel eyes twinkling with love and pride and emotions he couldn’t begin to examine. He did know each one was precious and important.
He sat silently in the waiting room. He was grateful that all his brothers and pseudo-father brought the ambient noise to a dull roar. The television was on ESPN, so the voices of the sports announcers helped, too. “Thank the Lord for sound-proofing,” he mumbled to himself.
The squeal of Augusta’s pain earlier damn near broke him. But before he had the chance to turn into an emotional wreck, he was ushered from the room, along with the other men, and the door was closed.
There was a bit of guilt for not being in there, but their relationship, the intimate part, anyway, had just begun. He couldn’t expect to be invited, nor did he think he wanted to be. However, sitting here and not being able to help was hard, too.
For a moment, he thought about being in the hall while Deborah gave birth to a child she had just hours before informed him wasn’t his. But he shook it off. He refused to let the past rule him any longer. Augusta was not his ex, the baby was never his, but would be in his life, and when Augusta left the hospital, they would be together. So absolutely nothing was the same as before.
The men had already made him tell his tale three times, and he was sick of talking about his bad landing. They teased a little but mostly were just happy he was okay and here.
“You all right, son? And I don’t mean your scrape up with the plane,” Frank startled him by asking. John was so deep in thought, he hadn’t realized Frank had taken the seat next to him until he spoke.
Frank had a flattering way of looking at it. Scrape up, my ass. “Yeah. Just a lot of in my own head stuff to sort through.”
“Yep. I can understand that. I saw the look you and our Gus shared.” Frank looked around conspiratorially. “Don’t mention it to the Missus, but I owe her another dang bag and matching shoes. I need to learn to stop taking her blasted fool’s bets.”
John knew about the rest of the family and their betting pools, but to his knowledge, Frank and Francis didn’t get involved in those. Sure, they knew, but he didn’t think they put money down. Did that mean they were in on the pool for when he and Augusta would get together?
“Hey Walker, I hear y’all been betting on my love life?” John tried to sound angry, but he couldn’t quite muster it.
“As if you have to ask? Wait, that…in there…you already fucked her? Woohoo, I think I had this week.”
Frank chided his son. “Don’t be vulgar, son, that’s your family you’re talking about, and you’ll never be too old for me to whoop you.” Walker looked properly browbeaten and lowered his head.
Until Michael pulled up something on his phone. “Damn it, look at that Dubya, you pulled a double. You had this week for her to pop out the rugrat, too. Drinks are on you for the next month.”
Frank just shook his head. If he wasn’t talking about that pool, what was he talking about? “If Walker won the pool, why do you have to buy Francis anything?”
“If you have to ask, you haven’t been paying attention. Walker and Erika happened before you came along, but Francis bet me they’d be together.”
At John’s unimpressed look, Frank continued, “Did I mention that was when Tori first brought her to a picnic? Years before they even knew they’d be together.”
Now, that was impressive, but not shocking.
“Anyway,” Frank was starting to gossip like a church lady. John felt that just this once, Frank was talking more for his own benefit than that of someone else. He was nervous about the birth too, he just covered it well. Frank had done so much for all of them, he would be damned if he’d deny him the distraction. So, John leaned in with interest.
“She bet me that day, yep, that very day. Oh, and did I mention that it was my Francis who encouraged Tori to run off to Tennessee with that no-good piece of offal she was dating? No one could see her genius, not even me.”
Frank stopped talking for a moment and turned his head toward the door as if he could hear something. But no sounds were coming. Maybe it was wishful thinking.
“Yep, it was her. I asked her what in the name of Sam Hill she was thinking. Send her off with that…anyway, you know what she told me? She said she just had a gut feeling that Torionna needed to be there. Well,” Frank turned his affectionate gaze toward his son-in-law, “you know where that led.”
An aged hand rested on his, and he looked up into Frank’s eyes—really looked at him for the first time and realized that while everyone thought this family was stitched together through Francis, Frank seemed to need it as much as she did. And everyone thinks you indulge her.
“Then there’s you and your sister. It was my little lady that finally cleared the path for that big man over there to cherish your sister the way she deserves. And that brings us to you.” Frank patted his hand. “You, you were tougher. She laid awake at night worrying over you.”
That little nugget of information shook John to his core. After his parents died, he had always been the worrier. This was a new position for him. Not that he enjoyed her sleepless night, but he rather did enjoy the fact that another person worried about him.
“But, she won’t have to worry about you anymore, now will she?” John was left more than a little confused when Frank said nothing more and instead went to pour himself a cup of coffee.
My weakness.
Never one to resist the call of the bitter brew, no matter the position of the sun, John followed. He also wanted to question Frank a little more, keep him talking, for his sake. John laughed at himself. My sake, too. The subject was a welcomed distraction.
While staring into the dark liquid as it splashed into his cup, he realized he had just been gifted with a rare opportunity to razz Frank a little. Today was apparently a day of firsts.
“Just for your peace of mind, I won’t keep your wife up at nights anymore, scout’s honor.” Frank gave him a withering look.
“Don’t make me take you to the shed, because I will.” His voice was threaded with humor as he made his way back to the couch mumbling something about youngins and disrespect.
It had been years since John had been scolded and threatened with physical punishment in a parental way, and even longer since anyone called him a youngin.
“Sorry, I’m just messing with you. It was in poor taste, but you have to cut me a little slack, huh.”
Frank just harrumphed and sipped his coffee. While his face was properly scowled, his eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I’ve been an honorary member of this family for over a year now, and that was the very first time you have ever just left yourself open like that. Can you blame me for walking right in?”
He earned another harrumph for that. He sat back down, and he studied the older man next to him silently. Frank was dying to finish the story of why he owed Francis accessories but was too proud to continue without being asked, even if it was clear he craved the distraction.
John was more than happy to indulge him, and he was curious. “So, I suppose Francis knew Augusta and I were destined from the first day she met me?”
“No, actually.” John waited for Frank to elaborate, but he never did. Well, that was unexpected. John anticipated some amazing tale of Francis’ impeccable skills. On some level, that bothered him just a little.
Doubts he had put to bed started stirring. If Francis didn’t see it the way she did with everyone else, then maybe…No, stop it. You are looking to sabotage yourself because you’re feeling out of control.
But…he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling trapped and out of control at all. He was feeling…content. He smiled when he realized questioning things was habit, not because he was looking for a way out.
“No?”
“Nope. When she first met you, she was worried you were too closed off to even be comfortable in our family, much less in a relationship. But she did say if anyone could break through that hard shell of yours, it would be our Gus. But the rub was, she knew, even before you and your sister came into our lives, that if Erika thought Gus should be with Dax, Gus wouldn’t date anyone else. Not that she wanted Dax, but she wanted Erika’s approval.”
Stories of Tori and Erika’s matchmaking attempts were well known, as was the tale of Augusta and Erika’s rocky start. John witnessed firsthand how Augusta shouldered guilt over everything from leaving her sister at home when she went to live her own life to being ashamed she found Walker attractive in his moments of recovery breakthrough. Both Walker and Augusta had explained it wasn’t a sexual attraction and nothing happened, but John could see Augusta bending over backwards to please people. It’s what she did.
Who she is.
Erika and Augusta were thick as thieves now, but even John remembered when that wasn’t the case, so he could understand Augusta’s reluctance to date anyone if she thought it would upset the apple cart.
“You going to finish your tale before you’re a grandpa again or what?” Now John was wholly invested in the story.
“Hmmm, well Francis set the girls to rights about things. She saw the way Dax looked at Stacy and the looks you and Gus exchanged, but she still wasn’t ready to put her money where her mouth was, no sir-ee. The day of the announcement, but before it happened, my Francis was down. She confided that even though she stopped the girls in their love schemes, she still didn’t think you would let anyone in. Well, after the announcement, she was convinced you wouldn’t.”
John was a little taken aback by Frank’s confession. How was it that obvious to everyone that he’d closed off his heart? Funny, because I didn’t even know I had done so, but Francis knew.
“Did she just give up on me that day?”
“No, son, she never gives up on anyone, she just doesn’t place bets until they are a sure thing.”
“Then what does she do when you take her to Vegas?”
“She shops.”
They shared a laugh—a genuine, heartfelt laugh.
“When did she bet on me?” John asked meekly. He couldn’t explain why it seemed important, he only knew that it was.
“The night you introduced her to her latest obsession, a fine single malt from Islay.” Frank sat down his coffee cup, patted his knee, and rose. He joined Dax and the others who appeared to be playing cards…and betting body modifications?
While John was trying to figure out if the bets were for mods that were desired or mods to be endured, the door between the rooms opened.
Marco stepped through followed by Andy, who was carrying a bundle of blankets and staring at it as if it contained the very moon and stars. And in a way, it did.
To a father…it did.
In his child, a father believed God himself plucked every celestial body from the skies and condensed it into one squirming seven-pound package.
“IT’S A GIRL!” Marco shouted as soon as the door behind them closed. “A girl. Can you believe it? She has ten fingers and ten toes. A perfect little nose and head full of curly dark hair. She is prefect, just perfect.” Marco wrapped his arms around his husband and daughter. He was practically vibrating with love.
Andy finally drew his eyes away from his daughter and sought John’s gaze. There was something unspoken exchanged between them—part apology, part gratitude, all connection. As much as everyone in this family had done their level best to make him feel welcomed, feel accepted, it was this that had finally achieved that.
The new fathers were overjoyed, and it spilled over into the entire room. But it was the kinship John felt the most. His knees gave way when he tried to stand, and he ended up back on his ass on the couch. This sense of family had died with his parents. He had given up on ever feeling it again, but here he was, having his feet taken out from under him by it.
A moment of panic touched him. He was adapting to not being in total control and had even decided he could love others, including Augusta. Loving people didn’t automatically mean pain and loss. All those things had been hard for him to acknowledge and even harder to accept.
But am I enough?
As is?
John would never be playfully affectionate with everyone the way Michael was. He seemed to flirt with the very wind, so easily and naturally. It put people at ease, from wait staff to CEOs.
Dax was more of a quiet claimer. His demeanor said he had ownership of his entire family, and by extension, anyone they cared about. It was clear that if you messed with them, he would have no problem taking your head. It was also clear that Stacy or Macy could bring him to his knees with a look. They were his only weakness.
Walker, well, Walker was a tattoo-covered cupcake. Not in a bad way, just when he looked at the people he loved. For someone so physically intimidating, it was hard to imagine the term cupcake being used if someone didn’t know him. In his past, he had struggled with violence, so when he conquered it, he refused to succumb to it again. Of course, there was no doubt if his family were threatened, he would unleash the beast without a second thought.
However, John would never be any of those things. Not that he wouldn’t protect his family and love them fiercely, he just showed it differently. He wasn’t a flirt who charmed everyone. Nor was he overly affectionate in public.
Unlike Dax, who would pull Stacy down into his lap and kiss her senseless at any given time, John saved the cherishing for behind closed doors.
And that was the thought that was making it hard to breathe.
Would they expect him to change? Would Augusta want him to be more like Michael, Walker, or Dax?
That was a problem for another day. John wasn’t a self-centered man, and this time was not about him. This time was about the joy Augusta had just struggled to bring into this world.
And family.
It was most certainly about family.
Andy’s voice was shaky with emotion, “Six pounds, one ounce of pure perfection.” His loving gaze returned to the fussing bundle in his arms. “Franscephina Melanie Rivera-Wellington, meet your family. Family, this is Cephina.”
The feminine squeals that came from behind them startled everyone, including the baby. With the focus on the baby, the ladies entrance had gone unnoticed.
Andy turned toward the sound, and John saw the tears swimming in their eyes. Tori and Erika mouthed “Melanie” and clung to each other. John had heard stories about her and knew that FORM Wear was named in her honor, but she had died before he knew the Reids. Even so, John was still touched by the gesture; he understood what it meant.
“Franscephina? That’s unusual, where did it come from?”
John wasn’t sure who asked, but he wanted to know himself.
“Well, Francis and Frank, for the first part, obviously. The second I came up with from something my grandmother used to say. I wanted it to sound angelic, because this little one is my very own angel.”
Francis appeared from behind them and walked into Frank’s arms, both tearful. They would probably tell differing stories later about the “Fran” part of the name.
Turning toward the older couple, Andy extended his precious bundle. “Would you like to hold your granddaughter and namesake?”
With shaky arms, they accepted and the cooing began in earnest. So did the whooping and the hollering. John felt out of place, while everyone’s focus was on the new baby and the new fathers, John’s attention was in the other room. Where Augusta was.
“No worries, she’s fine. Just getting cleaned up and checked out. The doctor kicked us out for that part.” Marco patted his shoulder and let his touch linger, offering comfort. “She did good, man, she did good. A real trooper. Biologically, she may not be Cephina’s mother, but she is precious beyond measure. To all of us, and if you break her heart, well, I know a guy.”
Did Marco just threaten me? John met his dark eyes and realized the truth of it. He did, and so casually. He was stone cold serious. It’s always the quiet ones. Then, as if by magic, Marco smiled and it lit up his face. He was glowing and happy, like he hadn’t just promised to murder a man. The hand on his shoulder slapped against him again. “Let’s go meet your God-daughter, shall we?
God-daughter? This family really was unique, and crazy as sin if they want me in the mix.
John joined the cooing crowd all happily making fools of themselves with nonsensical sounds and faces. He was not above it, either. Looking at little Cephina reminded him of when his parents brought Stacy home from the hospital.
“I remember when you were this tiny and quiet,” John addressed Stacy, but it was Dax who responded.
“Bet you never thought she’d change so drastically, did you?” With those words, he wrapped his body around Stacy’s. Claiming.
“Only the latter, she’s still pint-sized.”
“Hey.” Stacy pouted, but everyone else just laughed. “Well, at least I don’t have bacon on my ass.”
“Yeah, but you love bacon, and you love my ass.”
“All right, all right,” Andy spoke up and gently lifted his daughter back into his arms. “Get a room already, you two, there is a baby present.”
“Ha,” Walker barked. “I seem to recall you not giving a fuck about language and behavior in front of my precious little angel.”
“Well—”
“What about—”
“Blow m—”
“Excuse me.”
Everyone spoke at once and the volume had risen to an almost deafening level. A shrill whistle pierced through all the arguing and insults. All eyes turned to the matriarch smoothing down her suit as if she didn’t just piss off every dog within a two-mile radius.
“If you will all kindly zip it, the good doctor there has something to say.”
Every head whipped around to the portly man in white who was clearing his throat. “Um, yes. Miss Thorne is doing just fine, as is the baby, if you hadn’t noticed. She’s resting now, and her sister is with her. She expended quite a bit of energy today so don’t worry if she sleeps through the night. It’s perfectly normal. But, if things stay the same, I see no reason I can’t discharge them both tomorrow evening. However, someone is here to take the baby back to the nursery.”
No one wanted to see her go, but they all cooed their goodbyes anyway. Andy approached John as the others left. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night here, we have the room, and I know it would mean a lot to Augusta.”
John agreed it would be nice, and he was tempted, but he had something else in mind. “As much as I want to stay, I feel this time is for the four of y’all to bond and adjust. I think I’d like to go to her place and make it nice for her homecoming.” John shared his plans, most of them anyway. He wanted Andy’s approval.
“I think that’s an excellent idea. January thought as much and is ready to head back, too. She can give you a lift? Plus, she can keep an eye on that head of yours since I am assuming you haven’t seen a doctor yet? Better yet, stop off down stairs and just let them have a look. I know it will help Augusta’s peace of mind.”
“Sure.”
John didn’t want to do anything that could potentially hurt Augusta, and if he did have a concussion and didn’t get at least looked at, that was just creating unnecessary risk of problems. He wanted to make sure he was in perfect shape when she was finally ready to come home.