When Sky Breaks: Burn & Break Duet Book 2

51. Sky

There’ssome very manly giggling coming from my backyard as August and I arrive at the house. Is there such a thing as manly giggling?

Maybe my subconscious is manifesting something outlandish to protect itself after the afternoon with August’s mom.

He hasn’t said much about it, instead modeling my silence and being a comfort rather than expecting me to know exactly how I’m feeling about the phone number burning in my contact list.

Giggles erupt again from over the fence and even August can’t deny their existence.

“What is that?” He cranes his neck like he can see over the fence from our position in the truck.

“I don’t know. Sounds like two geese honking at each other,” I say, squinting in the dark.

“More like two hyenas on helium.”

“Oh, I like that one. That’s exactly it.”

August softly smiles, reaching out to brush his thumb over my cheek. “Are you doing all right? I’m giving you space to process, just so you know. But I’m here when you need me.”

I hold his hand to my face and smile back. “I know. Thank you. I’ll be fine, eventually. Just like you said, I’m processing the fact I have Dannie’s number. It’s a weird feeling. I can’t describe it.”

“That’s okay, take your time. My mom’s been back for almost a year, and it’s still strange to have normal conversations with her.”

A loud bang from the backyard makes us swivel our heads.

“We should see what’s going on. That noise and the crazy laughing makes me nervous.”

August jumps out and runs around to open my door. Such a fucking gentleman. Seeing as he learned little of that from his parents, I hit the jackpot lottery of men.

Instead of going through the house, I grab his hand, and we walk through the crunchy leaves toward the fence gate.

“Shhh! Dad, you’re making too much noise—someone’s coming,” Trek’s voice pitches high.

“Think we can take ’em?” Foster asks with a giggle. He sounds…under the influence.

The gate squeaks as I push through, rounding to the back of the house.

Trek and Foster are sitting around a fire blazing in the pit. Lounging is more like it. A billow of smoke streams from Trek’s mouth, wafting up to be taken by the breeze rustling the trees.

He turns all the way around once he sees us, and his face lights up.

“Oh, it’s just Sky! Hi Sky, hah that rhymes. And her boy. My best friend. Former best friend. Maybe new best friend, I don’t know yet. We did kind of cry together. That has to count for something.”

Foster shifts in his seat, his smile lazy, his bald head shiny in the firelight. “Hi baby girl. August. Want some?”

He holds out a small blunt—if the skunky smell has anything to say—pinched between his fingers. I fight a grin.

Naturally, the nurse in me has to say something. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

August chuckles, kisses my head, and drags two empty chairs to join them.

Trek sends smoke straight up before giving me a wink. “Sky Wintersssss, Dad earned this. Don’t hate. You know it’s good for cancer patients. It’s not that strong.”

“Yeah, right, we could hear you two cackling from the truck—you’re so high.”

I settle down next to him. If I’m honest, I could use the distraction as well. “How did the scans go?” I direct toward Foster, whose eyes are closed, a dopey expression on his face. He had a doctor’s appointment a few days ago, and I’ve been nervous, yet optimistic, about the results.

“Scans came back good. So relax a bit, honey. I’m going to be okay at the end of this.” He pats around for my hand, and I give it to him. “How did your afternoon go?”

Because I don’t want to spoil the mood, I elect not to tell him I was visiting Marley for information on my mom. The atmosphere is light, they’re happy, and it’s a moment of celebration for Foster. And for us as a family.

Family.

The fire glows, and for once, I’m not transported to a time where even the mere mention of a flame would leave me cowering. It’s now warm and beautiful, signifying communion, a gathering of love and hope. So much hope.

After the visit with August’s mom, we stopped by the firehouse to check on The Villain’s Playground and help with any last-minute details. August took pictures of all the rooms while I played his assistant; the decorations much less scary in the daylight. Next week is the fall festival, and aside from the day of prep, everything is ready to go.

“The haunted house is looking really good,” I say, waving away some smoke from the fire or pot, not positive which. “Do you plan on going, or will it be too much?”

Foster shrugs. “Not sure. I told the guys at the firehouse I’d try to come out if I felt like it. Right now, I feel pretty good.”

August laughs to my right. “I bet you do.”

Foster cracks open an eye and smirks at August, and then down at our hands clasped together. “Are you taking care of my little girl?”

August nods. “I got her. You know that.”

Trek pipes up, straightening in his seat, the cushion letting out air under his weight. “Is it true you’re the one who added those can lights to the living room above the fireplace?”

August gives an affirmation, and Trek raises a brow. “YouTube, Trek. You might try it sometime. Very handy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Trek jokes, shoving August and they both laugh.

My heart thumps with a happiness I didn’t think I’d ever feel again.

Trek suddenly turns to Foster. “Dad, look at me. Real quick. Can you focus?”

Foster releases a tiny chuckle, trying his best to keep a straight face at Trek’s silly, pot-laced tone. “Yes, son, I can. What is it?”

Uh oh.

I brace my hands on the chair’s arms. I have a feeling this is the moment where Trek blurts out?—

“Well, here’s the thing. You’re going to be a grandpa.”

Foster squints before swinging his eyes toward me and August.

I wave my hands in front of me. “No, no, not us.” Not yet, at least. We haven’t discussed children or marriage, but it’s obvious we’re both on the same wavelength and that together forever is our future, no matter what it brings.

A choked sound comes from his throat as he swivels to Trek. “Who then? You?”

“Technically, Hazel, but yeah, me. I’m going to be a dad.” The laugh Trek utters is a mix between a stutter and something unhinged. Perhaps telling Foster while high was a bad idea.

Foster’s head falls back, and he giggles like the sound we heard pulling up. Tears slide from the corner of his eyes, and he wipes them, grinning. “Oh, that’s a good one. It’s not even April Fools yet.”

I pat him on the back of his hand. “He’s serious.”

The pause is enormous as the information settles in Foster’s brain.

“Did you know too?” he asks August, who spreads his hands. “Who’s Hazel?”

“My baby mama,” Trek says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “We’ll get into what she does when we’re thinking more clearly.”

Oh, that will be a fun conversation. Remember when you had to go up to school for a parent-teacher conference when Trek was failing chemistry? That’s his baby mama.

Foster rubs between his eyebrows before scrutinizing Trek over the fire. We’re all silent except for the crackling of the logs and twigs in the pit.

Finally, a slow smile creeps across his face. The breath I was caging slides out in relief.

“If your mother was here, she’d be having a field day with this. A grandpa, huh?”

Trek claps his hands and points at me. “I knew springing this on him while he was stoned would go over better.”

Foster rolls his eyes. “I’m not that far gone, although this turn in conversation has sobered me right up. I expect you to bring her over soon. And I mean soon, not when she’s about to go into labor. You hear me?”

Trek salutes him. “Loud and clear. But you’ll love her. She’s shy, but you seem to have a way of making people feel comfortable around you. She’s as nervous as me about this whole thing.”

My gaze meets August’s while Trek and Foster banter back and forth about the merits of Lamaze courses.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his finger tracing circles over mine, his soft gray eyes reflecting the moon high in the sky.

“That you three are all I really need. But that I also need to call my mom and close that chapter. I want some peace, you know? I won’t be able to have it until I do this.”

“Want me to be there when you call her?”

I slip from my chair and slide onto August’s lap, him wrapping his arms around my waist and mine folding around his shoulders. “Yes. It won’t be easy, and I don’t know what to expect.”

Soon, I’ll tell Foster about my plans. He’ll understand and be there for me as well. That’s just the man he is. Dependable. Like the one currently tangling his fingers into the hair at the back of my head.

August leans up for a kiss and Trek tosses something at our heads. “Get a room, you two.”

We laugh and kiss anyway, the men behind us groaning, and again, something hits me in the head.

“What in the—a marshmallow?” I toss it back at Trek.

He catches it in his mouth, a cheesy grin morphing as he chews. “Excuse us. We got the munchies.”

I grin, the glow of happiness seeping into all my pores.

August murmurs in my ear, squeezing my waist. “So this is what family feels like.”

It’s not a question. It’s a subtle understanding resting in your bones. A warm, cozy place in front of a hearth, the feeling of coming home after a long journey. The open arms of a loved one welcoming you in.

“It sure is.”