18. Foster
FOSTER
Thwack.
The sound of squash balls in the matchup next door to ours can be heard as I arrive at the court and see my dad on the bench preparing for our match.
I’m not sure when I will slip it into a conversation about the changes in my life, and telling him while a ball is flying could be dangerous.
But unconventional seems to be a theme for me lately.
My dad is busy tying his shoes when I drop my bag down and sit.
“Thought you would be late,” he mentions.
“Even on a busy workday, our squash games get a sacred spot on my agenda,” I joke and unzip my bag.
He switches feet and pulls on the laces. “Rough week at the office?”
“Nah.” I pull out my shoe, remembering Sutton’s restless nights. The new body pillow helped, and I don’t have the heart to admit her tossing leaves me needing extra coffee.
Taking a quick sip from my water bottle, I set it down to slide off my ring for the game.
I haven’t actually taken it off yet, but this isn’t exactly a game of cards.
Balls are flying, and once a ball jammed my finger.
Squash is also the game where my dad’s eyes laser in on me because my casualness is also an unintended reveal.
“Since when do you wear rings?”
My eyes drop down to my finger, and I stop mid-twist. A careless move on my part, and here we go. “I was going to talk to you about it now, actually.”
“What?”
I take a moment to wonder what his reaction will be. One of a man who is a father first or the man who will take this win to fulfill his business interests. “Sutton and I… we got married.”
His eyes bulge, clearly not prepared for me to say that.
Not wanting to prolong this, I scratch my chin. "Yeah... she’s pregnant."
“Ah.” He shifts, looking away from me, hands gripping the bench’s edge. I mirror him. Staring at the wall beyond the court, I wait in silence. “It’s the honorable thing to do,” he says, voice tinged with approval and disappointment. Is that what it is?
I’m a grown man, though. As much as I would like his support, I don’t need it.
“Yeah… lucky coincidence for the family, right?” Annoyance seeps through that sentence. But if someone is going to point it out, then it might as well be me.
I feel his hand grip my shoulder, and I glance to my side to see him staring at me with his mouth curling. “That’s a minor detail, Foster. Business is business. Family is family. I’m going to be a grandfather. If this is what you want and for the right reasons, then I’m happy.”
Relieved, I smile warmly. “It is. It’s all come as a surprise, but it’s what we want.”
He jiggles my shoulder as he grins, making a sound of excitement. “Then I will let it go that I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”
Rolling my shoulder to release his hand, I’m only going to be honest. “We eloped and kept it private. Just Sutton and me.”
“I’m not thrilled with that, but it’s your choice. How is she feeling?”
“Pretty alright. We’re already more than halfway.”
His brows rise in astonishment. “Wow, you’ve been keeping that in.”
“Can you blame me? There is a certain optic that you and Patrick push.”
My dad sighs and massages the back of his neck.
“It’s true. This solves the problem that your mother left in the will.
I’d be lying if I said that I’m not excited to see the look on your uncle David’s face when he realizes his company hopes have been dashed.
But…” He reflects to himself, his expression turning sentimental.
“Your mother only ever put it in because she wanted you to be happy and not alone. You’ve fulfilled that too, you know. ”
That’s probably what I hold onto the most. The concept that it was all loving intentions.
“Well, it’s happening. I’m sure to many, the timeline will seem… desperate. It made sense for us to be married before he arrives. It’s a boy.”
His mouth twitches into a smile as he seems pleased with that news. “A boy, eh? That’s…”
Scoffing a sound, I’m not going to let him go down that rabbit hole, even if he is joking. “She never specified I had to have a son. Thank fuck she left that tradition off the table.”
“You know…” My dad is gathering his words. “I’m sorry that I put pressure on you about the clause. Maybe I thought a nudge wouldn’t hurt. You’ve never been in a serious relationship, and I always figured you as someone who would settle down.”
“Can you do me a favor? It’s a tough spot to be in. Please don’t mention any of this to Patrick. Not until I tell him,” I request.
Lines form on my dad’s forehead. “If you want to be the one to tell him, then fine, but I have a feeling you don’t want to tell him and will delay.”
Nodding, I smirk because maybe he knows me even more than I thought. “Exactly. You know how he gets. Just give me that time. The pregnancy is going well, but we still have a ways to go. A grand announcement isn’t for us, and I doubt he will be discreet.”
“Hmm,” he considers. “Well, I suppose it isn’t my news to share. I do have my seventieth birthday party in a few weeks, so take that into account.”
I touch his shoulder in appreciation. “I will. Thanks.” We meet eyes, both aware my world is about to change.
“One more favor.” It’s crucial to ask. He nods that he is listening. “Can you not talk about the clause when you’re around Sutton? She knows the gist of it.”
He seems unconcerned. “Son, you conduct your relationships the way you want to. It’s up to you to figure things out without my involvement.”
I sigh, relieved. “Thanks. Now, I believe I came here for an old man to beat me at the game.” I tilt my head toward the court.
“Be a good challenge, Son.”
We both get up, and I finally place my ring inside my bag’s pocket for safekeeping.
After the game, my father and I grabbed dinner at the club. I went straight home afterward and found Sutton sprawled on the sofa, blanket pulled below her tank top, which was riding up to her belly button. She was watching a horrible reality show about wives on TV.
“Trying to lose a few brain cells again?” I joke, grinning as I join her on the couch. She laughs, stretching her legs out, and I instantly scoop her feet into my lap to massage.
“I can only binge so many comedies or detective series. Need to keep it easy. So, I’m giving an episode a try.”
I pick up the remote control and press a button on the bottom of the screen. “Uh, you are on episode four already. I think they classify that as binging.”
She points her finger at me with a funny smile. “Don’t judge. I had to deal with Celeste’s snarls today, had a pregnancy yoga class, and our son decided to practice his kicking skills.”
“Really? Is it that obvious now?”
Sinking deeper into the sofa, I want to just relax for the rest of the day while I massage her feet.
She nods. “Yeah. If I think you could feel it, then I will let you know, I promise. Anyhow, how was your dad?”
I can’t help but smile. "Surprising. I know he has good in him, but I didn’t expect him to set business aside when I told him the news.
That’s exactly what he did. I’d like to think he’s excited.
He said he would try to find some things from when I was younger.
He thinks my mom put a lot of stuff in a box somewhere. "
She reaches out to touch me, but she’s too far away; her smile is enough. “It’s good to hear.”
Lifting a shoulder, I decide that there is no reason to make today sentimental. “How was work?”
Sutton growls. “Celeste can be a real bitch, to be honest. Always some snide remark about timelines. Sometimes, though, she seems human—interested in conversations about the baby when I’m at the coffee machine.
I think she struggles to balance work with her attempt to connect with the team.
I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt. ”
“You’re too kind,” I compliment in a flat tone.
“I met with the designer you hired and discussed some ideas for the nursery. Elodie sent a list, so we need to get moving. I’ll order some things online. We can check out the rest next week after your Atlanta trip.”
“Sure. Look at us being on top of the ball.”
She chuckles and points her toe to dig into my thigh. “I could tell you that I’m a good wife and picked up your dry cleaning, but your assistant already handled that.”
I’m about to remind her I don’t have time for small tasks—a privilege of my role—but she flinches before I speak. I straighten my posture and watch her, concerned. “Are you okay?”
Her bright smile appears, and she scoots closer to grab my hand and place it on her belly. “He wants to cooperate, it seems. I think you’ll feel it.”
Feeling nothing, I frown. Sutton uses my hand to prod around her belly, then stops. Suddenly, I feel it. A little tap against my palm. Once, and then a few seconds later, another.
That’s my son in there.
Moving, healthy, and clearly enjoying life.
“Wow,” I breathe out. “He’s moving,” I lament.
“For you. He thought, ‘Oh, my daddy hasn’t felt me yet and has had a long day.’”
The corner of my mouth snags from my smile. “Smart boy.”
Looking back months ago, I’m glad I was adamant about having a baby.
I didn’t make my wishes clear to Sutton since she struggled with the news.
Planned or not, I didn’t expect how little milestones would resonate, or how much more attached I’d become to both the baby and Sutton.
I thought it would mostly happen after the baby arrived, but all my assumptions have flipped.
Another flutter hits my palm, but then it wavers away, and her stomach settles.
“Thank you,” Sutton whispers, almost whimsically.
“For what?” I meet her eyes as her fingers play with my sleeve.
"For your patience. I had so many doubts, but maybe it’s instinct. I can’t imagine not having him or this." She motions between us. "You’ve been waiting for me to catch up without complaint."
Taking her hand in mine, I plant a soft, chaste kiss on her fingers. “Because I knew you would come around.”
Sutton sits up to be closer to me, but it’s noticeable that there is her belly between us, as she tilts her body to square my head in her hands.
“I’m not going to blame it on hormones, but I feel things. I really feel things for you,” her whisper is vulnerable.
Quickly, I kiss her to cement our bond, because it's strong. “That’s good. Because I love you.”
“And I love you.” She slowly moves to straddle me, letting her hands drop to my shoulders, and our eyes confirm that our relationship has progressed. She begins to sputter a laugh. “Have you felt this way for a while?”
“Yeah. Have you?”
“Yeah. I kind of assumed you knew and it was obvious. Wasn’t it?”
Grinning, I realize it all felt natural. “Yes.”
“And it’s been obvious for me.” She playfully pushes my arm, and her smile is wide as can be. “Foster, are we seriously the people who forgot to say I love you and only did it after we got married?”
“Fuck.” I think about it for a good second, then chuckle. “We are those people.”
We both laugh, and she buries her nose into the crook of my neck. “Going in order doesn’t seem to be us.”
I comb back her hair, and she pulls back to meet my eyes. “Sutton, nothing about us makes sense.”
She licks her lips, her cheekbones still high from our moment of hysterics. I feel her middle begin to wiggle against my waist. “I guess we need to honor this momentous occasion. I want to show you how much I love you.”
I feel my erection form. She’s been insatiable lately. No complaints from me. But right now, this isn’t sex. It’s more, a lot more.
When our lips meet, I’m certain that this is how we were always supposed to be. The casual beginning when we met was purely a warm-up for what was to come.
Sometimes when things feel this perfect, you have to wonder what could shake you from your axis. But I’m no longer alone, and maybe deep down, I’m scared for what could happen to any of us.
Nothing is ever too flawless, is it?