60
Courtland
"Who's the most precious little baby in the world?"
Lola coos as soon as I hand over our son for her first chance to gush over him.
Manuel is pretending like he's not interested, but I saw the way his face lit up when little Brock reached for his finger.
Yep, that's the name we went with. Brock Matthews to be exact, to ensure our kid doesn't end up with the same moniker as Buzz.
"How's your mom doing?"
Lola asks, tearing her eyes away from Brock for a second.
"She's fine. They discharged her this morning. I think she needs some time to process the emotional component of this, so I'll be keeping a close eye on her."
"I'm sure you will, sweetie,"
she says before turning all her attention back to Brock.
"You are so cute I could just eat you up. Shoot. That reminds me. I need to order more Wagyu beef."
"Looking at our son made you think of that?"
Buzz asks, chuckling.
Our son.
Hearing those words come out of Buzz's mouth hits me right in the chest. This is such an unusual setup, the two of us raising our half brother, but we're determined to always be led by what's in little Brock's best interests.
He'll learn the truth when he's ready, and that is likely going to be a very difficult conversation. Good thing I'm working on developing that skill.
I potentially wasted so many years not being with Buzz because I was too afraid to talk. I won't ever make that same mistake again.
And I hope that if I can impart anything onto our child, it's that talking about your feelings and communicating honestly is a sign of strength. Especially for boys.
"I ’ave to go now,"
Manuel says, his eyes brimming with joy as he glances at Brock then turning icy cold when he peers up at me.
"Such a shame you no longer work ’ere."
"Hearing the sincerity as you say that makes me seriously reconsider whether I did the right thing by handing the reins over to you and accepting a position at Clovelly Family Practice."
"No, no. You deed, you deed,"
he assures me, a momentary flash of horror splashed across his face.
"You made ze right dee-cee-sion for us all."
"I know I did,"
I say, smiling.
As much as I love the inn and really enjoyed working here for six months, my real passion is helping people. It took having a break for me to appreciate just how core that is to who I am.
And I did make the right decision for everyone—I own the place, Manuel runs it, and with clearly laid-out boundaries in place, neither one of us will ever rot in jail for manslaughter.
"We should get going," I say.
"We have to make a quick stop before we get home."
"We do?"
Buzz asks.
"Yeah. I got a call from Grandpa Arnie's lawyer. He said he has something for me."
"That sounds vague and mysterious,"
Lola says, handing Brock over to Buzz, although I suspect if she didn't have to get started on dinner service, we'd be struggling to pry him out of her hands.
"Any idea what it could be?"
Buzz asks, and I smile.
His hands are trembling slightly, although his grip is steady. It's clear he's equally in awe of our son as he is petrified of inadvertently hurting him in any way.
We've been parents for less than forty-eight hours, so I expect his fears to pass with time. Just when I thought I couldn't love him any more, turns out—I can.
"No idea,"
I say, grabbing my cell phone and car keys off the counter.
"But there's only one way to find out."
I darted into the lawyer's office by myself since Brock had fallen asleep on the short drive over. When I get back to the car, he's still asleep, so I shut the door as quietly as possible.
"How did it go?"
Buzz whispers.
"He gave me this,"
I say, lifting an envelope.
"What is it?"
"Don't know. Other than it's from Grandpa Arnie. Should I open it now…"
I peer at the rear-facing capsule in the back seat.
"Or wait until we get home?"
"Now. Brock's fine. A car alarm went off and not even a whimper."
"Okay then."
I unseal the envelope, take out a two-page handwritten letter, and read it out quietly.
My beloved Court,
I'm writing this on your twenty-ninth birthday. I'll call you when you finish your shift at the hospital, but I know myself, and I know I won't be able to tell you what I'm really feeling in my heart. So I'm going to write it down instead.
I'm getting older now, and I can't assume I'll get the chance to say what I want to say to you. Life doesn't guarantee us anything, especially time.
I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart, and I deeply regret not getting to spend more time with you as an adult. Seeing you grow up before my eyes has given me so many precious memories I will cherish until the day I die.
Unfortunately, our family was torn apart, and by consequence, so were we. I understood why you and your father left, and I also understand your reluctance to return to Clovelly. I should have done more to reach out and visit you, but I guess I got bogged down by shame, which seems so silly and useless in retrospect.
Which is why I want to do something useful now.
If you're reading this letter, it means I'm gone. But it doesn't mean I can't be an interfering old man from the afterlife.
You love Buzz. You have ever since I can remember. You weren't just best friends, you adored him. You lit up around him. He made you laugh, and he brought out a sweet, hopeful innocence in you. Qualities that life took away from you, but qualities that I nevertheless know you still possess.
I always believed you two would end up together. Unfortunately, life got in the way. I may not be able to change what happened in the past, but I can take one last shot at bringing you together.
If you're wondering why I set out the conditions in my will, let me come right out with it—I knew you'd pick Buzz to marry, and I knew that, given a chance to spend some time together, you'd finally take the plunge and reveal the thing I and everyone who has ever known you knows—you love him.
It is my last wish that true love finds its way to you both.
And if Buzz is dating one of those losers he always seems to be, you have my permission to veer into the morally gray underworld and do everything you can to stop him from making a huge mistake. He belongs to you just like you belong to him.
I glance over at Buzz and deadpan.
"It's like he predicted Zane."
Buzz chuckles, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up and keep reading."
"That's it," I say.
"He says he loves me and signs off, Love from here to eternity, forever your Grandpa Arnie."
My eyes have grown misty, so I shake the paper out in front of me, willing the tears to stay put.
Buzz gives my arm a rub.
"You okay?"
A quiet breath slips from my lips.
"I'm a little emotional," I admit.
"I could have had so many more years with Grandpa Arnie."
I turn my head to Brock, then to Buzz. "We could have had so many more years together, too."
"Don't say that. The past is the past. We have something better. We have the rest of our lives."
"And a beautiful boy to raise."
"Exactly. Who knows? If we'd gotten together earlier, I probably would have smothered you to death by now."
"That's true. I much prefer having that to look forward to."
He grins.
I smile.
"Need away all you want. I'm never going to leave you."
His eyes have turned misty now.
"Thank you."
"Now…"
I take in the capsule and lick my lips.
"If little Brock is still asleep by the time we get home, I have a way you can show your gratitude."
Buzz chuckles.
"Oh yeah? Let me take a wild guess."
Turns out Buzz's wild guess was spot on. He feasted on my cock, getting his creamy reward with ten minutes to spare before Brock let out an almighty wail and needed to be fed.
Life really is good.