39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
“So your mom just pushed you out of the way and climbed into the ambulance with Paul?” Lehra asked with a hint of amusement.
I confirmed with a nod. “She did.” I’d immediately called Lehra after the ambulance arrived, and she sprinted over and insisted on riding to the hospital with me. Grateful for her presence, I’d held her hand the few minutes to the hospital and the entire time the doctor was explaining that my dad had indeed had a heart attack.
She snuggled beneath my arm, and I inhaled the fresh scent of her hair, so grateful for this amazing woman. “He’s going to be okay. The cardiologist said the stent surgery was quite routine.”
“I know.” Staring at the wooden door to the hospital room, I willed it to open.
“And they put him in a regular room on the cardiac floor, so that’s a good sign. He’s not in the intensive care unit.”
“True.” I moved us forward to get out of the way of a gurney holding an elderly man that was being pushed down the corridor. “Thank you for being here. You make me feel… comforted.”
“That’s me. Lehra the comfortable,” she chirped, kissing my chest. “How are you feeling about everything that happened? It had to be strange seeing your biological parents in the same room for the first time.”
“It was, but it wasn’t bad or anything. Their connection was just… there. Staring me right in the face. I didn’t expect that.”
Lehra gripped my chin and turned my face toward hers. “It’s okay to feel conflicted about it. You’ve only ever seen your mom with your papa. I felt really weird when I looked at my dad’s old yearbook and saw him escorting the homecoming queen—who was not my mother. I’d never even thought of him with someone else because them as a couple is all I’ve ever known. But we have to remember that our parents had a whole life before we came along.”
My eyes went to the door again. “I think he still loves her, and I’m surprisingly okay with that.”
“Love doesn’t have to be diluted by more love. Sometimes it makes it grow.”
“When did you get so wise?” I asked, smiling for what seemed like the first time in hours.
Before she could answer, the door swung open, and a nurse emerged. She was smiling. “You can go on in. Just don’t give Mr. Bouvier anything else to eat or drink because he’ll have surgery in a few hours.” She patted my arm. “He’s perfectly stable now.”
Lehra and I entered to find my mother fussing with the blankets on the bed. “Not even tucked properly,” she muttered, pulling the bottom of the sheet free before tucking it back properly . “There. How’s a patient supposed to be comfortable if the sheets are all willy nilly?”
I tutted from inside the door. “A man can’t even have a decent heart attack in peace in a place like this.”
Mama flashed me a fake glare before hugging me and Lehra. “Always with the smart mouth, this one,” she complained, patting my cheek.
Paul Bouvier was slightly reclined on the bed, and I was thrilled to see that the color had returned to his skin. Crossing to him, I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek. “You look better, Dad.” The last word rolled off my tongue as naturally as if I’d been calling him that for my entire life.
“It’s the hospital gown,” he said, pinching the neckline of the gray patterned garment. “It does wonders for the complexion.”
Lehra sat on the other side of him, and they shared a warm hug before she teased, “I’m going to tell Devereaux you’re not wearing a Bouvier hospital gown.”
My father chuckled. “He’ll be trembling in fury. Maybe I’ll talk to Monty about designing a new line.” He patted her hand and turned back to me. “Did you call your brothers?”
My brothers. I actually liked the sound of that now.
“I called Auburn. He and Monty should be here any minute.”
Lehra stood and looped her arm with my mother’s. “Stella and I will go get a coffee and maybe hit the gift shop for a while.”
Mama didn’t move to hug Paul, but she placed a hand on his shin and met his eye. “I’ll be back.” He nodded, and once again, I was struck by the visceral feeling of their connection.
Once the ladies were gone, I rounded the bed and took the chair beside my dad. “How are you?”
“I’m good, son.” His blue eyes seemed full of life when he smiled. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“I didn’t do anything. Just had Mama call the ambulance.”
“You were there. That’s all I needed,” he replied, voice thick with emotion. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open and my brothers entered. Monty waved and I flashed him a small smile, my anxiety ratcheting up a couple notches. I prayed this went well… that they would accept me.
“Boys! I’m glad to see you. I’m sorry to have interrupted your Saturday,” Dad said.
“Hush up, young man,” Monty said before pressing a kiss against his forehead.
They talked for a few moments, Paul filling them in on the surgery he was about to have.
“That’s good. We’ll be here the whole time,” Monty assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Our father passed a look between his two oldest children. “I wanted to talk to you about something before they put me under. I was going to tell you the day after Chloe’s funeral, but I thought I’d dropped enough on you for one afternoon.”
He smiled weakly before continuing. “And then it never seemed to be quite the right time. Monty, you moved back, there was all the wedding planning, and then our sweet Janie started walking. I didn’t want to overshadow all that.”
“Well, now we’re focused on you, Dad,” Auburn said softly. “What do you need to talk to us about?”
“I’m just going to say it.” His eyes scanned all three of us this time, holding on me for a long beat.
“Auburn, Monty…” Dad took a deep breath, and I could sense his nerves, so I reached out and gripped his hand.
After a long pause, he finally said it.
“Cruz is your brother.”
There was no yelling. No accusatory looks. No demands for proof. I’m not sure what I expected, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.
Monty blinked in confusion, but he didn’t look mad at all. Auburn didn’t either, though he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me with… was that smugness ?
I wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction. The oldest Bouvier brother was a bit of an enigma, a much tougher nut to crack. Monty was the one I was most worried about because he’d become one of my best friends since he moved back here last year, and I feared this would drive a wedge between us.
Our father spoke up to try and clear up the confusion. “You remember that I told you I separated from Chloe all those years ago? And that I fell in love with Auburn and Evie’s nanny?”
Monty’s eyes narrowed and then widened as he put the pieces together like one big, familial puzzle. “That was before I was born, so you and, um…”
“Estrella,” Auburn filled in, his gaze intent on mine. I still wasn’t sure how to read him.
Our other brother snapped his fingers. “That’s right, and then she left town because the evil egg donor fired her.”
I spoke up for the first time. “And threatened her.”
Monty’s top lip curled. “God Chloe was such a bitch.”
I couldn’t disagree. “I can fill you in more on that later, but that topic is what landed, um, our d-dad in here.” I stumbled over the word, unsure how my brothers would react to it, but neither flinched. In fact, Monty grinned and rose from his chair before coming around to the side of the bed where I was sitting in a vinyl chair.
Standing to face him, I released Dad’s hand a second before Monty pulled me into a hug. Not one of those half-ass bro hugs, but a real one with both arms. “This is so fucking cool,” he rasped, and I chuckled out a laugh when we finally released each other.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what y’all’s reaction would be, but it wasn’t that.”
“Why not?” he asked, playfully slapping my arm. “We hit it off from the first minute you picked me up from the airport. Now I know why. We’re brothers.”
I hadn’t realized I’d been hunching my shoulders with worry until relief lowered them a few inches. “I’ll be happy to take a DNA test or whatever,” I assured them. “I don’t want anything. I just came to New York for answers.”
Auburn nodded sagely. “Makes sense. Your father had just died, and you didn’t want to question your grieving mother about something so sensitive.”
“Yes,” I breathed, as more of the tension left my body. “You don’t seem very surprised by all this.”
He smirked at me. “I had my suspicions.” At the lift of my eyebrows, he explained. “When I was reading over your personnel file during employee assessments at the end of the year, I noticed your mother’s name was Estrella, and I remembered the story Dad told us. Then, with your blue eyes and the way you look so much like Monty…” His eyes moved between us. “It just clicked.”
“Oh. Wow.” I couldn’t think of much else to say.
“And don’t start that DNA bullshit. If Dad says you’re his son, we accept that.” His eyes shifted to Monty for confirmation, which he gave with a firm nod.
“Right.”
The air in my lungs shuddered out, and my father met my gaze, his telling me I told you so.
“Is that why you gave me that absolutely ridiculous raise?” I asked Auburn, and he chuckled.
“No, I did that because my wife told me to.” And to my utter shock, my oldest brother stood and pulled me into a hug, his voice low near my ear. “Even before I suspected you might actually be related, you’d already become like family to me, Gianna, and the kids.”
Auburn pounded me a couple times on the back before releasing me and reverting to his gruff demeanor, his eyes shifting between me and Monty. Auburn was the tallest, but Mont and I were much broader than him.
“Would you two hulks sit down and relax?” he grumbled before settling on the bed beside our father again. “Little brothers are so annoying, Dad. Can we sell them or something?”
Paul Bouvier’s eyes shone with tears, and yet the man—our father—looked happier than I’d seen him since the first time I met him. I said a silent prayer for my father and the medical staff that was about to do surgery on his heart.
He had to be okay. He just had to.
Six weeks later, I was on a fancy golf course with my two brothers and our dad. Paul and Auburn were awesome at the sport. Monty and me? Not so much. But we were having fun.
All three of us had gone to our father’s last cardiology appointment with him, where we’d listened intently to the doctor’s instructions. When Paul asked about golfing, Dr. Leeman told him it would be excellent exercise for him but to use a golf cart between holes.
Monty, Auburn, and I walked toward the sixteenth hole, all of us keeping an eye on our dad in the golf cart in front of us. He stopped to talk to someone he knew, and we paused.
Monty nudged me with his elbow. “Hey, you know that Instagram account we follow, The Adventures of Garfield and Snoopy?” I nodded. “The owner of the account sent me a DM and said they’re making a trip to New York. We’re going to meet up.”
“Oh, that’s cool. It will be like meeting a couple celebrities.”
He laughed. “Right? You’re welcome to go with me and Kass.”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun.” I hesitated before asking, “Can I ask you guys a serious question?”
“You should ask me,” Auburn said firmly. “Monty will probably give you a stupid answer.”
“Says the man in the sweater vest,” our brother retorted.
“You’re just jealous you can’t pull off this look.”
He was right. Monty and I would look like apes playing dress up in the forest-green vest over an ivory shirt. Auburn, of course, looked like he’d just stepped off the pages of Golf Digest .
“Ohhh nooo,” Monty cried dramatically. “The hottest brothers aren’t able to look like pompous assholes.”
“Hottest brothers, my ass,” Auburn mumbled, and I laughed. These two killed me with their banter. As we traversed our way through this whole new family situation, they were starting to include me in their teasing. “Cruz, what was your question?”
“I want to propose to Lehra. Do you think it’s too soon?”
The other two looked at each other and burst into laughter. “The Bouvier men aren’t known for their patience when they find what they want. I know you’re keeping your last name,” Monty explained, “but you’re no less a Bouvier.” My heart warmed at his unfettered acceptance.
“It’s just… well, something is happening in New York next month, kind of a once in a lifetime thing, and I want to take advantage of it and ask her then.” I explained my idea to them, and they shared an amused look.
“That’s certainly an… unconventional way to propose to a woman,” Auburn said cautiously.
I chewed my bottom lip before blurting, “We’re into role playing.”
“Okay, that’s cool,” Monty encouraged. “Like the naughty nurse thing? I think lots of couples do that.”
“Yeah, like that, but sometimes more elaborate. Though we did do a nurse thing last month when I had a cold.” My mouth went slack as the memories came back to me, and I stared off across the bright green grass. “The way Lehra took my temperature…”
Auburn snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Focus, you horny bastard. Tell us more about the role playing. I think Gianna might like to try something like that.”
I filled them in on the costume shop and a couple of the scenes we’d tried. Without going into too much detail, of course.
“I bet you were hot as a Viking,” Monty said with a nod.
“You know, I think you and Kass should try some new stuff to keep things fresh,” Auburn said thoughtfully, a glint of mischief in his eye. “Kassie could be a Domme, strap you down, and whoop your bad little ass.”
I barked out a laugh at that visual as Monty scowled at him. “So do you guys think it’s a good idea?” I pressed. “My proposal idea?”
“I think it sounds fun,” Monty said. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Auburn agreed.
Paul circled back and pulled up beside us with the man he’d been talking to in the passenger seat. “Monty, Auburn, you remember George Pepperfield.” They all nodded and shook, and my father climbed out of the cart and looped an arm around my shoulders. “George, this is my other son, Cruz Estrada.”
The man’s eyes went as round as golf balls. “Oh, I guess I didn’t realize you had another son.”
“I do,” he said firmly and without further explanation. “Would you take a picture of us? I need a photo with all three of my sons.”
The way those words hit me…
George climbed out of the golf cart and posed us in front of the lush green backdrop before snapping a few pictures.
“Okay,” Dad announced. “Now I’d like a pic with my favorite son.”
None of us moved a damn muscle for a long moment, and then we all burst into laughter with George snapping away.
A few days later, when Paul presented us each with a print of his three “favorite” sons surrounding him, our mouths open in laughter, I framed it and displayed it on the mantel above my fireplace.
With pride.