“I should be an author on the cover.” Emma remains in her position with her hands on her hips.
“You didn’t write anything.” Finn doesn’t look up from the stack of books in front of him.
“I’ve already sold all the copies, got us into the local craft show, and was able to copy the first book in Dad’s office.”
I’m distracted from the banter in front of me by soft kisses to my temple. I smile over at Max, feeling high on life. Emma and Finn are battling over their math project. An English assignment turned into Finn publishing his beloved journal. Emma gave up on her picture book about frogs and princes and became engrossed in Finn’s journal. I’ve got to admit I really had no idea what was in it, and when I saw a few pages ready to edit and offer up constructive criticism, I was left speechless.
It’s the tale of a little boy who ticks to a different beat from his view. Finn didn’t leave out any of the good memories with Francis to the scary nights with Ally and when he found his daddy. There were random doodles of blocks and foreign subjects. What Max and I didn’t know was every time he was building with blocks, he was telling his story and how he saw the world.
Max never wanted to test Finn. Instead, we both decided to focus on developing coping skills with him. It hasn’t been easy, but it gets better every day. Even though he’s homeschooled, he explores more things than he would if he was in the public school system. If we are studying ecosystems and habitats, we go to the pond and observe the area. The kids predict the type of fish inhabiting the pond, collect bugs, and make analyses.
“They’re never going to settle this argument,” Max whispers in my ear.
I peer over to him and smile. “All they have to do is figure out a profit and loss margin.”
“Again, no way they will ever agree.”
“And they’re learning the greatest lesson of compromise and team work.”
“One of them might lose an eye.”
I shrug. “Possible.”
Max shakes his head, capturing my lips in his. He kisses the hell out of me like he’s always done. We don’t part until a tiny squeak and wiggle in my arms breaks through.
We both peer down to our perfect baby, Jillian, all wrapped up in her pink blanket with her perfect lips pursed and rosy cheeks on display. I have no idea what we have in store with this little one. All I do know is she stormed in on Christmas Day and has been a perfect blessing ever since.
Max leans down, placing a kiss on her forehead. It guts me like it always does when he does this. It wasn’t easy picking out a name for our baby girl. I’ll never forget how nervous I was when I broached the subject of naming her after his mother. Of course, Max was pissed and wouldn’t hear anything of it. I was prepared for him to storm off and return later cooled down. The thing is he hasn’t done that since the night in the pizza place.
It took him a while to come around to it and a serious talk with his dad, Jessie. I went on to explain to him about the dream I had. I’ve never admitted to anyone that it was more than a dream. I met his mother and saw the sorrow and pain in her eyes. She was so happy for Max, but there was so much redemption that would never happen lingering in her eyes.
It came down to the fact that Max would’ve never met me if it hadn’t been for his mom. It was the years of hardship he endured that led him into his future, which was set on a final destination straight to me. If Max would’ve led the high life like he deserved with loving parents, chances are he never would have caught Ally’s eye. The truth is she never would’ve gone after Max if it weren’t for the attention he was gaining after his mom died and Jessie took him in. Her game had always been an attention-seeking one; it wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.
Jillian’s namesake will forever be cherished in our hearts and in Max’s mom’s memory. The beauty in life is not hating, but rather respecting, where you come from no matter how ugly it is. And that’s the same life lesson we are both on board to teach Finn.
“Enough.” Jules enters the living room, settling next to Finn on the floor. “This is Finn’s book. Yes, it was you, Emma, that snuck into your dad’s office to copy the book and waste an entire forest, but he wrote it, honey.”
I bite down on my smile, remembering when we were about to move into our new house and Emma pulled the biggest heist over us. We’d all thought she was sick running to the bathroom during our grammar lesson. Little did we know, she was sneaking into Jessie’s office making a copy of the book. Finn is no innocent party sidetracking all of us while she was gone.
Jessie was fit to be tied when he went into his office, exhausted, to find a pile of crumpled papers mounded in the middle of the room. They were Emma’s mistakes. And if I had to guess, it was nearly a ream of paper. The little shit even figured out how to change the ink cartridge when it ran out.
Finn glances up to Emma. “We can put your name as the publisher.”
“They are already printed,” she fires back, which makes no sense, since she is demanding to be co-author.
Finn scratches the side of his head. “Remember those labels we were going to order from Amazon on Grandma’s account?”
“Finn!” Emma smacks her forehead.
He blushes and continues on. “Well, what if we ask this time and we can print your name as the publisher?”
Emma taps her chin in dramatic fashion. None of us would expect anything less. “Only if we put it on the sign in front of Cody’s bar, and my name has to be in all capital letters.”
“Okay.” Finn nods, not caring whether the sign happens or not.
Cody left New Year’s Day. It’s left a hole in our entire family unit. I find myself struggling with the fact he’s going through hell because he saved me. My skin was never touched by the hot flames because of Cody. He gave everything to keep me safe. Cody is still healing and will for a long damn time. It was Jessie and Brady who gave him no choice and admitted him into a rehabilitation center.
At the time, nobody made him go. It wasn’t until we all saw him slipping day by day that we knew he had to go. There’s nothing worse than seeing the man who saved you diminish day by day. Every night his name is whispered on my lips. I give it all to God, knowing he’ll find a way to heal the hero named Cody.
Jillian cries out in protest in Max’s arms. The natural daddy he is, he does his best to soothe her.
“Here.” I hold out my arms. “She wants Momma.”
I lift the bottom of my shirt. Max places our perfect little girl in the precise position. Jillian latches her pursed lips around me and soothes right down. It’s Max’s hand cradling her head that makes the picture complete. I have everything, and even though we aren’t in our brand new house and have decided to spend the night here, it adds to the abundance of our blessing.
Jessie bursts through the door, startling Jillian. It only takes a few strokes of Max’s hand to relax her again.
“You are not going to the goddamn prom with the rival quarterback to my team.”
“Dad!” Whit protests.
“Don’t, Whit.” He turns around. “I’m not going to even entertain this idea.”
By this time, all attention is on the dueling pair in front of us. Jules jumps up, brushing her palms down the front of her yoga pants, encroaching on her pissed-off husband. She laces her hands around his middle.
“Honey, is this a bad time to tell you that Zack will be joining us tonight for family dinner?”
Jessie’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t say another word as he storms upstairs. The only sound of slamming doors echoes down. Whit tosses herself in Jessie’s recliner.
“Mom, I told you he’d do this. It was no good easing him into the idea of it.”
Jules walks over to her, perching on the arm of the chair and pulling her in for a hug. “It will be fine. You need to take it easy with Dad. Zack being the star quarterback to your dad’s rival team is only salt in the wound.”
Jillian fills her diaper once she’s done nursing. I escape the chaos that’s about to ensue. I feel for poor Whit; she has no chance of dating with Jessie and Max being her guard dogs. I sing a lullaby while changing Jillian’s diaper and decide to change her outfit because it’s just too much fun. And Lord knows Jules provides us with endless supplies of clothes. I feel guilty not using all of them, so I do my best.
There’s a knock at the door when I walk down the stairs. Jessie answers the door, and there’s no shock there. Whit is pale as a ghost. Jules shakes her head. Emma and Finn have no idea what’s going on as they sort the printed books into piles on the floor while writing down totals on their columned paper.
Max is relaxed back on the couch, taking a sip of his whiskey with an amused look on his face. I settle next to him, elbowing him in the ribs and doing my best not to wake the milk-induced coma Jillian in my arms.
“Be good,” I hiss to him.
“Not a chance,” he replies, keeping his attention focused on the show that’s about to go down.
“Sir,” Zack extends his hand, “I’m Zack.”
Jessie growls. Literally freaking growls like a rabid dog. Jules plays referee, racing to Zack’s rescue, welcoming him in the home. Whit covers her face the entire time.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Jules asks.
“No, thank you, Ma’am.”
Points for Zack. He really is a nice kid. I’ve become like Whit’s trusted sounding board. There hasn’t been one red flag to date.
Whit finally finds her voice and introduces Zack to everyone, then guides him to the couch to take a seat. I have to give it to Zack—he keeps his cool with all of the gazes and hostility streaming from Jessie.
Right before Whit is about to sit next to Zack, Jessie butts in, sitting right beside him. He pats the seat on the other side of him. Whit groans and takes it. Jessie spreads his arm wide on the back of the couch. Then there’s silence. Deafening silence until Zack clears his throat. He tries to twist a bit on the couch to face Jessie but really can’t. The scene is beyond awkward. Whit remains strong, not bursting into tears when most girls her age would be a sobbing, embarrassed mess. It’s the consequence and honor of being raised by a gentle giant who is way too protective.
“Sir, I came here to ask if I could take Whit to my prom.” Zack’s nerves get the best of him as his voice wavers just a tick.
“Nope. No way in hell,” Jessie barks out.
“Jessie,” Jules scolds him.
“Dad,” Whit turns to him, “I really like Zack and would like to go.”
“Nope.” Jessie remains firm in his decision.
“What about going to your prom, Whit, with Zack?” Jules offers.
Jessie’s jaw clenches. He can shoot down Zack like no other but is smart enough not to do it to his wife.
“I’d be okay with that,” Zack replies.
“No,” Whit protests. “That’s not fine. Zack wants to take me to his. That’s the question.”
I go in for the kill, hoping it wouldn’t come down to this. “I was talking to some of my friends I used to teach with, and they’re looking for chaperones still. Max and I can be chaperones if that would make you feel any better, Jessie.”
“That’s a great compromise,” Jules chimes in.
“Hey.” Emma pops up from the floor, racing over to Zack. “You want to buy a book? They’re five dollars.” She waves one in front of his face.
“Twenty dollars,” Jessie corrects her. “They are twenty dollars.”
Emma’s puzzled look is priceless. Max told me about the expensive-as-hell lemonade Jessie made his team buy. I know his game here.
“The fool better get used to it,” Max whispers in my ear.
Zack doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll take two.”
“That’s forty, mister.” Emma holds out her hand.
Zack digs two crisp twenty-dollar bills from his pocket. Finn races over with the second book.
“Do you want it signed by the author and publisher?” Emma beams a wide smile.
“Sure.” Zack nods.
“That’s ten dollars extra,” Jessie grumbles.
Zack doesn’t hesitate, once again pulling more money from his wallet.
“That’s enough, Jessie,” Jules scolds.
Jessie doesn’t move, keeping himself right in the middle of the conversation. After the books are signed and given to Zack, the awkward level escalates.
“Jessie, I need your help,” Jules hollers from the kitchen where she escaped after the last of the money was exchanged.
He doesn’t move or respond.
“Jessie, get your ass in here or we will be having words.”
And just like that, Jessie gets up and nods to Max. He goes to stand and holy hell puts himself right between Whit and Zack, taking his dad’s place.
I offer Whit a gentle smile and say, “It’s about the little battles, not the war. You’re going to the prom.”
This makes Whit grin from ear to ear.
“You hold any records yet, boy?” Max asks, resting his arm around Zack’s tense shoulders.
“No, sir.”
“That’s a shame, but then again gonna be pretty hard to beat any of mine. Hasn’t been one Trojan player close to doing so.”
I roll my eyes and gaze down at Jillian. She is so damn screwed. She has no chance of ever looking at a boy.
I look up to see Max staring at me. He knows exactly what I’m thinking and has audacity to grin at me.
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