Chapter 44 Derrick
forty-four
Derrick
At six in the morning, I wake up with a baby wailing. She’s so small, but her lungs are mighty, and it’s possibly the most beautiful sound in the world.
She’s finally here.
I make it to Veda's room and pluck the baby out of her nest. “Rest, you both need it.”
She smiles at me, but soon her eyes fan closed, and she’s back dreaming again.
She wouldn’t rest from the moment Major left to rescue Mirasol.
It was only four in the morning, but she refused to go back to bed.
She barely ate anything, so now that her daughter is finally here, I know she needs her rest. Manuela too.
Mirasol watches me with curiosity as we make our way to the kitchen. I thought babies were supposed to be all sleepy, but this girl has a sharpness in her eyes that many grown men don’t. To be sure she feels safe with me, I go around the house showing her everything.
The living room, the TV, though I don’t think she’s allowed that yet. We go to the porch and feel the early morning sun on our skin. She seems to like it, at least I take it as positive when she stretches her little arms and legs and kicks the soft blanket I have over her.
Not long after that, she starts fussing, so I take her back to the kitchen and make her a bottle.
I was sure to watch Manuela do it and asked a bunch of questions whenever I had a chance.
I do something right, because Mirasol drinks the whole thing quickly and burps like an old man over my shoulder.
“How’s she?”
My eyes were so glued to the little girl in my arms that I missed Jesse coming in.
He takes her from me. I don’t like it very much, but I guess this is a pack and we have to share.
As he coos and kisses her cheek, I go and start coffee, right when Major strolls in.
His eyes light up when he sees the baby, and soon we are all fighting over who gets to hold her.
If someone told me six months ago that I’d end up with a baby in my arms, the daughter of the woman I love, I’d say they are crazy.
Never in my craziest dreams did I think I’d come to this right here, this rightness in my chest when I hold Mirasol or when I kiss Veda. It’s like the world is finally in the right place.
“I have an idea for today,” Jesse says, kissing Mirasol’s head.
“What kind of an idea?” I know him well enough to be wary.
He smirks before telling us his plan. And it’s not bad at all. In fact, it might be the perfect way to welcome Mirasol and Manuela.
We have to move quickly while the women sleep, but between the three of us, it is easy.
I hop into the truck and go down to Willow Ridge, grabbing all the supplies we need plus a few extra things for Mirasol.
There’s a lot that a baby needs, and even when I’ve filled the bed of my truck with stuff, I know it’s still not enough.
When I’m back, Veda and Manuela are already up and out of the house, going for a stroll around the ranch.
I park the truck right at the door, and I can see Veda with the baby on her chest, pointing at things on the horizon, while she talks about the ranch.
She’s proud, I can tell, even from this far, and it makes my heart leap in my chest.
The distraction of a ranch tour is perfect while we manage to get everything in place.
Nervousness bubbles when I look at the result.
It’s not perfect, and I don’t like to give her anything but perfection, yet I know Jesse is right.
She’ll feel loved and important. It’s a small thing to show us how much we love her.
And fuck, we love her so much.
The three of us are standing behind the kitchen table as we hear their voices approaching. Major puffs his chest, Jesse fixes the bunting above our heads, and I grip the chair in front of me, trying not to look as nervous as I feel.
When Veda opens the door, she stumbles forward, her mouth open as we cry, “Surprise!”
At least Jesse yells it, Major and I mumble, which earns us a side glance from Jesse.
“Oh my god… What– I don’t understand?”
She hands Mirasol to her mom as she scans every detail of our surprise. The crooked Happy Birthday bunting across the kitchen cabinets, and the mismatched chocolates and other candy I was able to find.
And finally, her eyes lie on the ugliest birthday cake in the history of baking.
My skin feels tight as she takes the design. I tried to write her name, but evidently, I’m not very good at writing with icing.
“The cake is gluten-free, sweetheart,” Jesse tells her. “I wanted you to have a real birthday party. One with a cake you can eat and your—”
She jumps on Jesse before he finishes his sentence. She takes her with an oof, as she knocks the wind out of him, but I know he doesn’t mind it at all. She starts perfuming, and now that I’ve been baking for a while, I can attest that her sugary scent is much better than the real deal.
Her scent is stronger than it’s ever been, sweeter than sugar itself.
My knees buckle, and I have to hold on to the chair not to fall right at her feet.
If this is how she is now before she’s fully recovered, I fear for the future of this ranch.
There’s no hope of getting any work done with this Omega perfuming like this.
My pack brothers aren’t faring any better than I am. I can tell by the strain in Major’s jaw and the way Jesse’s eyes glass over as if he’s about to faint. Veda doesn’t notice any of that. She’s busy keeping her tears at bay as she thanks us again and again.
“Stop thanking us.” Jesse laughs but holds her very tightly in his arms. “But tell us you like it?”
Veda turns around in his arms, and only then I notice she’s crying. It kills me when she’s like this, overly grateful for something they should have given her from the start.
“This is perfect.”
Her voice falters and here goes my heart again, breaking for this woman. Veda’s watery gaze finds me and she steps away from Jesse’s arms to cling on to me. I have to bend lower so she can plant a kiss on my cheek, but I love her too damn much to let her go without at least a peck on her mouth.
“The writing doesn’t look good,” I murmur. “I’ll learn how to do better.”
She giggles. “No. I like it just like that.”
I don’t understand why she likes something that isn’t as pretty as her, but she moves from me to Major, kissing him on the lips too. Her hands frame his face, and she whispers a few words I can’t make out from here. My brother closes his eyes and drops his forehead on hers.
He’s so fucking in love with her, just like we all are.
Once they break apart, Manuela insists that we sing “Happy Birthday.” She’s right. We need to do this whole thing properly, even though we are a couple of months late for her actual birthday. It’s okay, this is just the first of many parties.
“In Brazil, you give the first slice to the person you love the most,” Manuela points out as Veda cuts the cake.
Our little Omega scrunches her nose. “Everyone in this room is who I love the most. Can I split it into four? I don’t think Mirasol should have icing at this age.”
She loves me.
Manuela laughs at her question, but I see she’s just as stricken by Veda’s declaration as I am. We shouldn’t be surprised. Veda is love. Every single part of her is made of the best that is. It shouldn’t surprise any of us that she gives her love so easily when she has so much in her chest.
Major tells her to have the first slice herself. We made the cake for her after all. In the end, we all sit to have a slice. It’s not perfect, but it’s damn good and Veda perfumes enough to let us know she’s pleased.
“You’re getting there, you know?” Manuela says, when Veda’s perfume is particularly thick after the third slice of cake.
“Where?” Veda asks, and I want to know too.
The woman doesn’t reply but brings her hands to Veda’s temple as if she’s checking for her temperature. I watch the whole exchange holding my breath, though I shouldn’t be thinking about scent-matching now, but that’s where my mind goes.
We don’t say anything about it. The Omegas communicate with their eyes, impressive for two people who have just met, but it’s obvious to anyone who wants to see that the bond is strong, attaching itself back as if they had never been apart.
For the rest of the day, we celebrate the women in our lives. We eat cake and make more food, all Veda’s favorites, which means a lot of carbs. Pancakes in the middle of the afternoon, followed by more cake. Gnocchi for dinner, which Jesse insists on making from scratch.
They look like potato-y lumps, but Veda eats them all with a smile on her face. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching this woman eat with this much gusto.
“You know they say autoimmune diseases are common in women who prioritize other people's well-being over their own,” Manuela says casually. “If you suppress enough of your feelings, your body gets angry and starts attacking itself."
“Really?” Veda asks, lowering her forkful of ugly gnocchi.
“If I liked cake as much as you do, I’d stop suppressing everything.”
Veda rolls her eyes, and Manuela chuckles.
Of course, none of us believes that she’d be able to eat gluten after all these years, but it is still a very interesting theory.
Veda’s grandfather made her eat her own feelings for so long that it’s not crazy to believe that her body rejected itself after a while.
Omegas are sensitive. They respond to their environment differently from the rest of us.
Thinking St. James traumatized his granddaughter into an autoimmune disease, just to then shame her for it, makes my blood boil.
I shake it all off when I’m handed Mirasol, as her mother cuddles me on the couch.
I play with the baby while everyone watches TV, my mind far away until Manuela says she’s going to sleep, and she can take Mirasol with her.
“Just relax for the night,” Manuela tells her. “I think it’s coming.”
She doesn’t tell what she thinks is coming, but whatever it is, Veda knows.
She sits up, eyes wide as saucers, and gives the sleeping baby to her mother.
My heart dares to beat faster as if it’s a horse that knows its destination.
Fuck me, I’m going to keep her regardless of what happens, but if what her mother thinks her heat, is coming? That changes everything.
“What’s coming?” I ask, but all she does is shake her head and look at the TV.
Over her head, I glance at my pack brothers, not surprised to find their confused eyes staring back at me. We all sit together on the biggest couch, Veda right in the middle, and I put my arm around her, holding her against my chest.
She feels warm like this, her breathing coming out in rapid gulps, and I wonder why she’s so nervous. We had a pretty good day today. She was happy and had more energy than I’ve seen since she got here. I turn to her completely, my hand over her naked leg as I call her attention.
“Are you okay?”
She whimpers to my touch, and when her eyes find mine, I suck in a breath when she asks, “How does heat feel?”