31. Porter
31
porter
“Porter…can you say Porter?”
“Gah goo ooo.”
“Close,” I say, though it’s not close. But she’s cute, so she gets a pass. “How about Po Po? Pah? Come on, baby girl. I know it’s hard, but you can do it. You can do anything.”
The more I ask Grace to same my name, even if I’m using the gentlest of my baby voices, her look to me is still the same.
Simply: What the fuck do you want me to do? Isn’t it enough that I’m adorable?
And she is, especially since the bow she’s wearing today is literally as big as her head. I mean, it had pasta noodles on it. How was I not supposed to buy it?
“Bah bah!”
“Yeah yeah, you got ‘bottle’ down, don’t you,” I say as I hand her the sippy cup that I realize she means. “One day, little one. One day.”
“Still nothing on the name front?”
“No,” I groan as Quinn enters the house and I roll to my back on the floor. The second I’m not looking at her, Grace does her downward dog/army crawl to the new toy she’s been obsessed with.
It’s a mixing spoon and bowl. And not even one that came in the kids’ kitchen set I spotted at the store the other day that I might’ve bought. Nope. Just a regular old spoon and bowl.
“I know you want the words, but I want the steps,” Quinn says as she sits down next to me. “She’s so close.”
I really didn’t understand the true meaning of baby-proofing a house until the past few weekends. I thought I had it covered. But then I saw a parenting blog about when they start walking, how much more they can get into, and it’s then that I realized my house was a walking death trap.
It wasn’t. Just a few things in her reach that I wasn’t ready for.
But, because of that, I summoned Wes, Simon, and a few of their friends to help me Grace-proof this house.
Now the house is padded, plugs are covered, and nothing is within her small reach. Now, we’re just ready for the steps.
And it’s not like she’s behind. We’re just impatient. According to the pediatrician and every baby blog in existence, she is a little delayed on her words, but we’re told it was nothing to cause concern about considering the upheaval in her life, and us not knowing anything major in her developmental history. The doc even said if that’s all that’s wrong to consider myself lucky. He’s shocked by how well adjusted she is and how good she took being thrust into a life she didn’t know. She’s eating well—the white board is constantly updated. She sleeps through most nights and is overall a very happy baby. When I think about it, it really makes me wonder how overwhelmed Missy had to be, or how hard it was raising her in the same house as Bonnie, for her to give her up. Because this little one is a light on a dark day, and I know my life is going to be better with her in it.
“How was book club?” I ask Quinn as she comes to lay down next to me.
“Great!” She says, sitting up, nothing but excitement radiating from her. “The kids are loving it. They’re at the part where…”
She doesn’t trail off. In fact, she starts talking a million miles a minute about a middle-school novel that I knew nothing about before Quinn Banks came into my life, and now I know everything. And yes, I’m listening. It means a lot to her, so of course I am. But I can’t stop watching her features as she goes on about the book, the students, and how much fun everyone is having. When Quinn is like this? Free and truly happy? There’s nothing more beautiful.
“Oh! And listen to this! I was talking with one of the sixth-grade teachers today. She saw me in the library and wanted to introduce herself. She came in at the end of the book club meeting so we started chatting about what I was doing. As we were talking, we came up with idea for a virtual book club for classes this year! It’s like a buddy reading, pen pal thing. How awesome is that going to be?”
I lean up to meet her, because I can’t help but kiss the girl right now. “It sounds amazing.”
“I’m so excited,” she says as she situates herself on the floor with me. “Being in that library today, even though school is still a few months away, it feels so right.”
“Was it strange?” I ask. “Being back in school, that is?”
She shakes her head as she links her fingers through mine as we watch Grace bang on the bowl. “Not as much as I expected. Honestly, when they told me I could go in during the summer to get everything ready, I figured it was a test to see if the building would collapse from the second I opened the door.”
“Did it?”
She looks back at me, a mocking glare being thrown my way. “No, smarty pants. It didn’t. The door did get stuck for a second, so I was convinced they already locked me out, but I just gave it a tug.”
I laugh. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re liking it.”
“It’s going to be so great,” she says. “Mrs. Metcalf left everything in perfect order. It’ll take me a minute to familiarize myself with her system, but she left it foolproof for me. I’ve even started researching some new books to add that I know were a hit back in my former classes.”
“I love this for you,” I say, kissing her cheek as she cuddles into me. “Though I must say, I’ll miss you at the bar.”
Quinn rolls over to face me. “You’ll just miss slapping my ass.”
I shrug. “That, and other things.”
Since it’s still the summer, we’re still taking shifts between the bar and Grace, though it’s been busy on Fridays and Saturdays, so we’ve been working both nights together and have found a sitter for Grace. Luckily, Wes’s daughter is more responsible than most adults I know and Grace loves her. But the time is going to come when Quinn is back at school, so I’ll need to hire someone to fill her spot. She tried to say that she could do both, but I assured her I didn’t want her burning the candle at both ends. When she still tried to fight me, I told her that if she was now a customer, because she was living with and dating the owner, that she got free food and beverage. Once I promised that could also apply to her sisters, she got on board.
It’s a small price to pay for a happy, and relaxed, Quinn.
“You know,” she whispers as she starts giving me small, but frequent kisses. “There are some things I always wanted to do at the bar. And if I’m not working there, I’m not sure if we can ever do them?”
“Oh really?” I pull her in even closer, stealing a few more kisses along the way. “Care to tell me what they are?”
“Let’s just say it involves me on top of the bar. You can let your imagination take it from there.”
My groan is swallowed by her lips on mine, and shit, if she keeps talking like that, I might just have her work one day a week. Just for the benefits.
I’m starting to get lost in Quinn’s mouth when I hear something that I’m not used to so I slowly pull away from Quinn. Except when I open my eyes, I’m looking at something I’ve never seen before.
“Quinn. Quinn! She’s up!”
I hurry and point as Quinn rolls away from me just as Grace let’s go of the coffee table she was holding onto and starts walking toward us.
Walking!
“Oh my God, Oh my God! It’s happening!” Quinn yells, rolling around like a maniac trying to find her phone. “Where the fuck is it, I’m not going to miss this!”
We both sit up, neither of us taking our eyes off of Grace as she waddles over to us.
“There we go, Grace. You got this, baby girl!”
She takes another four steps, and just as Quinn finds her phone and starts to hit record, Grace plops on her butt, a big smile from ear to ear.
“I’m so proud of you!” I scoop her up and hold her above me, kissing her all over, which always makes her laugh. “You’re such a big girl! You walked!”
Her addictive baby giggles fill the room as Quinn and I love on her, setting her back down on the ground to see if she can do it again. She does, which Quinn gets on video this time, but falls pretty quickly.
It’s fine. She walked. And I’ve never been so simultaneously proud and terrified.
“I can’t believe she did it,” Quinn says.
“This is cause for celebration!” I yell, picking Grace up and tossing her in the air. “Dinner. Out. We’re closing down the bar tonight so we can properly celebrate. The old geezers will understand.”
“Really?” Quinn says. “You’re going to close down the bar for her first steps? What happens when she learns to pee in the potty?”
“Not sure. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. But tonight, this little girl earned herself all the pasta her little mouth and hands can handle.”
Quinn laughs, kisses me on the cheek, before taking Grace out of my arms. “Well then, let’s take this little one for her nap. Get her nice and rested for her big night out.”
“Perfect,” I say, kissing both of them on the cheek before Quinn walks her upstairs.
I fall back onto the couch, the smile on my face a mile wide. How is this my life? Toys are scattered on my floor. I keep diapers in my entertainment center to save me from going upstairs every time Grace needs changed. I wash sippy cups and baby silverware every night. And yet, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
I know that if Grace wouldn’t have come into my life, and Quinn wouldn’t have moved home, I would’ve been fine being a bachelor. I don’t think I would’ve given any thought at all to one day wanting to settle down and start a family. I can thank my likely mommy issues for that one.
But now that I know what it’s like? To see how Grace looks at me each day, even in her resting confused face? Falling asleep next to Quinn every night? Mornings with the three of us snuggled in bed together? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
I push myself up from the couch, knowing I should probably take the down time to pick up the toys that will just be discarded again later, when I hear a knock on the door. It’s the middle of the afternoon, so I have no idea who it could be. No one comes to my house. Deliveries get left on the porch. But after a few more knocks, clearly telling me they aren’t going away, I pick myself up off the couch to open the door to see a mid-twenty something male in an ill-fitting suit.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Porter McCoy?”
“Yes. That’s me. Why do you?—”
“Here.” He pushes an envelope into my hands. “You’ve been served.”
Did he just say served? As in legally served?
“What? By who?”
The twerp doesn’t answer me as he nearly runs off my porch, jumping in his car and peeling out of the parking lot and down the road.
“What was that?”
I don’t answer Quinn right away as I sit on the couch and stare at the envelope. “I think I’m getting sued?”
“Sued? Who the hell would sue you? Make someone’s drink wrong? They twist an ankle in the parking lot? Oh, I swear to God if Emily is on her bullshit…”
I don’t blink as I tear the envelope open. I start reading it, but the words are just blurring together in my haste. I put it down, trying to refocus. The only problem is that when I do, I see words and names I never wanted to see.
“Holy shit,” I whisper as I read it again.
“What? What is it?”
I look up to Quinn as I feel all of the color and blood drain from my face.
“Porter, you’re scaring me. Who is suing you?”
“My…my mom.”
“Your mom?” Quinn takes the papers from me.
I sit in silence as Quinn reads over the document. I feel her tense next to me when she gets to the part I just read.
A custody petition. From Bonnie McCoy Higgins. For the legal guardianship of Grace Higgins.
“Fucking Christ,” I spit out as I spring up from the couch and start pacing the living room. “Last week. The party. There was a car that pulled in. I couldn’t really see in it, but I could’ve sworn it was my mom.”
“Seriously? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. She hasn’t been back to Rolling Hills in close to twenty-five years. There’s no reason for her to be back here.”
Except there is.
And for some reason, she wants the little girl who’s become my entire world.
“Hey,” Quinn says, her arms wrapping around me from the back. “I know this is scary. But we’re going to get through this. No one is taking Grace away from us.”
Us…
That one word somehow calms me in the chaos that’s my brain right now. Because Quinn’s right—we’re a team now. Together. And I don’t know what the fuck my mother wants, or what her game is, but she’s not going to win.
I’m not going to let her.
This is my family now. And no one, and I mean no one, is going to fuck with my family and get away with it.