Chapter 15 Percy
FIFTEEN
PERCY
“They're doing what?”
My mate held up his phone, and I read the text three times because my brain refused to accept it.
Station 12 is throwing you a baby shower Saturday at the firehouse. Do NOT try to get out of it. It was from Colin.
“That's sweet.” I reached for my phone which was dinging. “But we have a problem.”
Baby shower for you and the lieutenant. Saturday at the station. Don't argue. That was a Briggs text.
“Two baby showers,” Larkin said.
“On the same day.”
“At competing fire stations.”
My dragon was amused, so that made one of us.
The crews’ simmering anger had expired during the weeks after the cup final, and Hallie had asked about my registry. I didn't know what a registry was until Larkin explained, and I panicked because there were seven thousand things a baby apparently needed.
I’d told him if he showed me a spreadsheet, I was moving back to my apartment, but we’d agreed to figure it out together, which involved my mate researching while I ate crackers and complained about heartburn.
But now we had a bigger problem.
“We can't go to both,” I told him.
“We can't skip either.”
I rubbed my belly. “What if we suggest combining them?”
Larkin's face did the thing where I could almost see his brain calculating how that was possible. “That could go well or badly.”
I shrugged. “A normal Saturday for us.”
He texted Colin, and I messaged Briggs.
Colin’s response was We’ll consider it if Station 9 provides the venue.
And Briggs texted Only if Station 12 does the food.
By Thursday they agreed on a joint shower at The Sidedoor, the bar between both towns.
I'd invited my parents, and they’d be there, though my father wanted to know if there was a dress code. There wasn’t because it was a bar.
Larkin's parents were driving here from upstate, and my mate had cleaned the apartment twice, which was hilarious because it was always spotless.
“They’re not going to inspect the baseboards.” I kissed his cheek.
He made a face. “You don't know them.”
Before we left for the venue, I pulled a henley over my burgeoning belly and hoped the crews hadn’t secretly demanded a white-tie dress code.
When we pulled in, Station 9's trucks and Station 12's personal vehicles were side by side. These people had been at each other's throats for years over a trophy, and now they were in the same bar gifting us onesies.
The back room had been transformed with streamers and balloons. It was as though two people, one from each crew, had bought decorations and nobody coordinated. A banner read “Congratulations Percy & Larkin,” and beneath it, in smaller letters in a different marker: “And little one.”
I giggled, thinking it should have said, “And egg.”
Why doesn’t it? my dragon demanded. This pushy egg is taking up all the space, and I want it out of here, please.
There were two food tables side by side with a strip of masking tape down the middle.
Station 12's side had a catered spread with neat trays of sandwiches and a cheese board. It was similar to something I’d seen in a magazine.
Station 9's side featured Tom's chili, Briggs's sister’s brownies, and a vegetable tray with the grocery store price still on it.
Awww, they were my people, and I loved them.
My parents found us, and my alpha dad pulled me into a hug so tight I worried about the egg, while my father shook Larkin's hand.
The first time they’d met months ago, I’d wondered if Father had thought, “This is the man that got my son pregnant.” But any awkwardness had passed, especially when Larkin called Father “sir” and they’d bonded over furniture building.
Larkin's parents arrived, and my mate did the introductions. We’d FaceTimed previously, but this was the first meeting in person. His mom hugged me and said, “You’re as sweet as Larkin told us you were.”
Sweet? Who said that? Nobody here is sweet, except maybe the egg.
I shushed my beast and filed away that tidbit from my mother-in-law so I could tease Larkin tonight.
Hallie appeared from the midst of the balloon forest and hugged me. “Pregnancy suits you.”
“I look like I swallowed a watermelon. Or maybe a basketball. I can’t decide.”
“A very cute basketball.” She turned to Larkin. “I bought you the best gift.”
She handed us a gift bag, and my mate removed what looked like an album. But it was a baby book, and the only photo was one taken from the kickoff barbecue with the caption, “Where it all began.”
“Oh, that’s amazing. Thank you.” I couldn’t contain my tears. I’d gotten used to the phenomenon of weeping over the slightest things during my pregnancy.
Janice approached me with a clipboard and informed me that she'd organized games that were to be timed and scored, and the winning station got bragging rights.
“Janice, this is a baby shower, not a competition.” Larkin wasn’t doing a great job of hiding his laughter.
She fixed him with a look. “Everything is a competition.”
The belly-measuring game was first. Both stations took it seriously. Tom's estimate was so large it could have wrapped around an engine, while Ken’s was off by less than an inch and received a standing ovation.
The cloth-diaper-folding race was bedlam. Briggs pinned the diaper to his finger. Dustin folded diapers like an origami swan. Larkin won, of course, because he was neat and symmetrical, and he completed it in seconds.
“You’ve been practicing,” Hallie observed. “I’m glad you’re thinking of the environment and not using disposable ones.”
“I’ve been watching YouTube,” Larkin admitted, and everyone laughed.
The baby-name contest was last. Station 12 submitted Jimmy, Odell, and Cherrie. Station 9 submitted Blaze, Flint, and Hose.
“Hose?” I stared at the paper. “Who submitted that? We’re not choosing that for our baby.”
Tom raised his hand. “It's gender neutral,” he argued.
My alpha dad, who'd been watching from the bar, called out, “What about Enya if the baby is a girl? It means little fire.”
I like that. Choose Enya. There was my dragon with his opinions.
I glanced at my mate.
“We'll think about it.” That was Larkin-coded and meant yes.
The gifts were piled onto a separate table. There were tiny clothes and soft blankets. Briggs gave us a handmade quilt with little fire trucks stitched on it, and I couldn’t contain my tears.
Colin gave us a wooden rocking chair for the nursery. The craftsmanship was beautiful.
“Larkin mentioned that he builds furniture. I figured the baby's dad should build the crib, so I did the chair.”
Nobody had warned me baby showers would result in me weeping onto my mate’s shoulder.
Janice’s gift was a framed photo collage with pictures from both stations. There were shared events and daily life, with birthdays and Christmas celebrations, friends who’d moved on and new ones we’d become close to.
“For the nursery, so the baby knows where they came from.”
Larkin put an arm around my shoulders. “We’re very lucky.” He kissed the top of my head.
And it could have all gone so wrong when our relationship was revealed.
Briggs found me near the bar later, where I was eating brownies. He jerked his head toward Larkin. “I wasn’t sure if he was good enough for you, but he’s all right.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I nudged his shoulder. “Not only for Larkin but also for my ability to choose a great guy.”
My mate appeared, and Briggs said his goodbyes. “Are we ready to go?”
“Oh yeah.”
There were handshakes and backslaps before we escaped outside.
“It was a great day.” Larkin opened my door.
“The best.” I eased into the seat and rested my hands on my belly. “Our kid is going to have the biggest, weirdest, and most competitive family in the state.”
“They'll fit right in.”