Chapter Nineteen
Ty
When I came downstairs to breakfast, Penn trailing behind me, Freid had most of breakfast on the table and was just finishing scrambling the eggs. It smelled wonderful, the food still steaming.
Penn, barely showing in his pregnancy so far, was always hungry. He bounded forward like a kid and nearly shouted, “Breakfast! I’m starved.”
I sat beside him as Freid doled out freshly hot scrambled eggs to all our plates.
“I’m always happy when people love my cooking,” he said.
Freid took a place across from us. I’d started to grab some bacon and toast when I noticed a notebook beside his plate.
I pointed at it with a slice of bacon. “What’s that?”
“This?” Freid opened the cover. “Sometimes I need to write things down. It’s like a journal.”
Penn spoke with his mouth full. “Are you going to write something while you eat?”
“I wanted to share something with you both.”
I leaned forward. “I’m intrigued.”
He made a face at me. “Don’t tease.”
“I’m not. I’m interested in everything to do with you.” When his look didn’t change, I added, “Seriously, my love. I adore everything about you.”
Penn stuffed his mouth with bacon, chewing fast. “Me, too.”
“Okay, then. I just want to tell you to take everything I’m about to read to you with an open mind. Because even I’m not sure how to take it, or what it means.” His fingertips skimmed down the page he had opened to. He took a sip of coffee and cleared his throat.
“First, I should say I had a dream last night. A very vivid dream. In color.”
I knew Freid well. He didn’t dream in color very often. The last time that had happened, we had spent three years of weekends waiting for his mate at Animals.
“Did you say color?”
“I did.”
“Go on.”
Penn glanced at me then back at Freid. “Color means it’s maybe important, right?”
We both nodded.
“Glad you wrote it down,” Penn said. “Please. Read it to us.”
It started out with him describing his—our—house but the details were different.
Penn interrupted softly. “It’s so detailed. You really saw all this?”
“It was as real as we’re sitting here right now,” Freid replied. “The scents, the sounds, the colors.”
“Read more,” I demanded.
When he got to the part about four little ones, a chill went down my spine. He was a good writer. I could see the scene unfold before me. The vision of the four young children was so very clear. Two little polar bears. A wren. A turtle. But no dingo? Or wolf? Or tiger?
Penn had stopped eating. His frame was stiff in his chair, his eyes big.
Then Freid read about me and Penn walking into the room.
Penn was pregnant. We were having a conversation, and Freid wrote down every word he heard.
My skin tingled. I could easily imagine us saying the things we said in his dream about how we should save Freid from four demanding little ones asking him for favors all at once, and about how much love is too much…
meaning, there was no such thing as too much love.
It was eerie how real that dream seemed when it was just words written down in his notebook.
When Freid finished, he closed the notebook then looked up at us with his mouth held in a tight, straight line. His eyes held a hesitant glimmer. Through our bond, I felt immense wonder from both my mates, but Freid’s energy was weaker, as if he was unsure.
“I thought a long time this morning about telling you two about this dream. But it hit me hard, like something very important. And I guess I want—I want your feedback.”
“You made it feel very real,” I said. “It actually gave me chills.”
“I can’t shake the feeling it is real,” Freid said.
“Four kids.” The words came out of me in a long sigh. “Sheesh.”
“Penn?” Freid stared at him. “Why do you look shocked?”
He took a deep breath. “Because I know these kids. I mean, I think so. There’s a bunch that come into the library for story day.” He frowned. “Do you think you dreamed about them by picking up their images from my mind through our bond?”
Freid shrugged. “I don’t know. Do the ones you’re thinking of match my dream?”
Penn nodded. “There is a family of foster children who come to my story time. I think I told you about them, the two cubs who were so sad their first day and seem much happier now. There are two other little ones with them, a turtle and, I don’t know, a bird.
I’m not sure if it is a wren. But also, there is an infant, so my guess is it’s not the same as your dream. Why would they call you Papa?”
My mouth dropped open. “That’s weird. Too much for a coincidence. It has to be the bond. Freid, you had to have picked up Penn’s subconscious visions. He’s pregnant. We all have babies on the mind, and becoming new fathers.”
Freid looked down at his plate. “Maybe.”
His disappointment in my response flowed through the bond. Backtracking so as not to hurt my mate, I said, “You said it was all in color?”
“Yeah.”
“And there’s so much detail.”
“It felt incredibly real.” Freid picked up his napkin and began to fiddle with it, tearing fringe onto one edge. It was a habit of his when he was nervous.
“Did it feel as strong as your dream about Penn?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He tore harder at the napkin. “That’s why I wrote it down. It was like a scene from real life only mixed up, outside of time. Just like with Penn.”
It had taken us three years to meet Penn. But it had happened. Freid had been right. What if he was right about this? But four kids… It took my breath.
“I know it’s a lot. Very sudden,” Freid said. “And we have a baby on the way.”
“I love kids. But five chairs at a little table is a lot,” Penn said.
“I love kids, too. But I never thought beyond the one Penn is carrying,” I added.
“And I agree with you both,” Freid said. “The dream was a bit of a shock. It’s okay. You two don’t have to say a word. I just wanted to share my dream with you because it won’t leave me alone. Maybe the details aren’t accurate. Maybe it’s something else. I don’t know.”
“I’m glad you shared it,” I said. “If Penn knows these kids, then I wouldn’t say there isn’t a connection.”
“Right. I’m very open to your dream, Freid,” Penn said.
“Me, too.”
Finally, Freid looked up. “If it’s like my dream three years ago, then what happens happens.”
“Right,” Penn said. “We’ll know when it’s time to know. Just like you two found me when the time was right.”
“But are we ready for that? Are you two open to that possibility?” Freid asked.
“It’s a beautiful dream,” Penn said. “I’m open.”
“I could feel the love in it,” I added. “I’m not opposed. I just need to let it sink in.”
Freid smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure. Five kids. It’s a lot to wrap a mind around.”
“It’s a lot, but your words gave me chills.”
“Me, too,” Penn said.
“Chills in a good way, I meant to say.” I reached across the table for Freid’s hand. “In a way that was so filled with love between us. And with them. I can’t deny that.”
“Same.” Penn came forward and joined his hand with ours. “Can you read it to us again?”
“Again?” Freid’s gaze met mine and I nodded.
He opened his notebook and started at the beginning. “In the home I share with my two mates, I walked into our large bonus room. There was a little round table set for five. A dollhouse and a train set…”