I take three steps toward the front door, stop, and turn around. “Don’t screw around while we’re out of the house.”
It might seem like an awkward thing to say to my kid—and it is. But I’m a realist, and believe it or not, so are teenagers.
Vivian grins mischievously. “Come on, Uncle Jake—would we do that?”
Vivian is the spitting image of her mother—tiny and pretty, with golden-brown eyes that glow with a soft inner light. But her personality is all her father. And I’ve known Brent Mason for thirty years.
“Yes. You would totally do that.”
She giggles and buries her face in my son’s shoulder. I point my finger at him. “But don’t. Seriously. Ronan’s on his way back from school—he can come home at any minute.”
Robert holds up a placating palm. “Relax, Dad. It’s all good. Tell Rory and Lori I said good luck.”
From the doorway, Chelsea says, “See you later, kids. There’s juice in the fridge.”
As we walk down the front steps, my brow furrows at my wife. “Juice? Did you just meet those two? We should be locking down the fucking liquor cabinet.”
She shrugs. “The real stuff is hidden in our closet; I replaced all the bottles in the cabinet with water months ago. If they’re in the mood for a cocktail, they’re going to be disappointed.”
God, I love this woman. “Well played.”
She pokes my ribs. “This is not my first rodeo, Mr. Becker.”
****
At the hospital, Chelsea and I sit in the waiting room of the maternity floor, drinking bad coffee. Lori’s parents head down to the cafeteria, and about fifteen minutes after they go, Rory McQuaid comes barreling through the double doors, his expression tired but completely elated.
“It’s a boy!”
Chelsea squeaks, jumps up, and tackles her nephew. And my smile is so broad, my cheeks ache. After Chelsea eventually relinquishes her hold, I give a back-slapping bear hug of my own.
“I’m proud of you, kid.”
Rory smirks the same smirk that changed my life.
“Thanks. I’m pretty proud of me, too.”
“How’s Lori?” Chelsea asks.
“She’s great. You guys can come back—they’re ready for visitors.”
We follow him into the cheery hospital room, where his wife reclines against a mountain of pillows. Lori grins when we walk in, her cheeks joyously round. She’s a high school teacher—and so gorgeous she must have to beat those teenage bastards off with a bat. Rory met her when she was a character witness for one of her students—who was also Rory’s client. It wasn’t love at first sight—but it was damn close.
Yeah, Rory is a criminal defense attorney at my firm. He’s sharp, committed, tough—and he has a partiality for defending juvenile cases. He’s not a partner; hasn’t gotten McQuaid added to the firm name just yet . . . but I have no doubt in a few years, he will.
I kiss Lori’s cheek. “Congratulations, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Jake.”
Chelsea lifts the sleeping bundle of baby from the bassinet. She gazes down at him with so much love and sighs, “Oh, honey . . . he’s beautiful. He looks just like you, Rory.”
Lori teases, “We’re really hoping he takes after me personality-wise.”
I tap Rory’s shoulder. “Karma’s a bitch.”
He nods, chuckling.
I stand next to Chelsea and look at the baby in her arms. Smooth skin, long dark lashes, fucking adorable little face. Now this—this is love at first sight.
“Hi, baby,” Chelsea coos. “I’m your grandma.”
Gran-MILF is what I like to call her. Weird . . . but so true.
“Do you have a name for him yet?” she asks.
Lori glances at Rory—a special, secret kind of look. “We do. We’ve had it for a while now. Rory picked it and I thought it was perfect.”
When they don’t say anything else, I ask, “Are you gonna tell us or do we have to guess?”
Rory looks up into my eyes. And says quietly, “Becker. My son’s name is Becker McQuaid.”
I stare back at him, until my eyes start to burn. And I just know Chelsea is tearing up next to me. I look down at the baby again, through a blurry gaze.
Then I walk up to Rory, clearing my throat. “You’re gonna make me cry, you little shit.”
His mouth quirks. “That was my evil plan all along, old man.”
I hug him. Hold him tight—because I’m honored.
“Thank you, Rory.”
He hugs me back and says against my ear, “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”
A few minutes later, Lori’s parents come in—then Regan and Ronan show up, bickering about the route Ronan drove to get them here. Not long after that, the whole brood descends, to welcome our newest addition.
****
Are you wondering about the others? Where they are, how they turned out? Today’s your lucky day, because I’m going I’ll tell you.