Eight #3
I clenched my fists, hating that I’d been such an issue from my birth. Owen must have caught my rising tension. “Hey, now. No. It wasn’t you. Dad had an accident at the plant. Hurt his back and left leg pretty bad. This was in the earliest days of Oxy.”
And a few pieces of my childhood snapped into place. “He got hooked.”
“Sure did. But his back didn’t heal right, and worker’s comp ran out. It was a shit show because Mom was pregnant with you and wanted to stay at home. She cried buckets when they had to sell the house—”
“You lived in a house? Like a real one?”
Owen’s lips twitched upward. “We had a good life back then.”
And more pieces slipped into place. “So they were good to you?” I asked tentatively.
The coffee finished dripping into the cup. I handed it to him, and Owen was careful to sip it so that none could drip on my son.
I busied myself with making myself a coffee I wouldn’t drink. My stomach was in knots. I hated the idea that Owen had a good life for the first fourteen, nearly fifteen years, whereas I’d had hollowed out shells of parents who would have left me to rot.
“I’m…jealous,” I said. Bowing my head, I refused to turn from the coffee machine and meet my brother’s gaze. I watched the digital display show count down my drink.
“You should be. They were good to me, Adam. And they were absolute shit wads with you. I’ve spent decades trying to wrap my head around that. It’s pretty impossible. All I can say is you got shafted, and I’m sorry.”
I picked up my coffee and immediately set it on the counter, turning to face him. “Is that why you took me in? Pity?”
Owen studied me. I studied him back. He held my son. He’d raised me. Did the why of it really matter? He was my father and my brother. He was my champion, the man who’d taught me to love, even if it was in a less than tender way.
But there was a good chance we’d all grown since my childhood. Not just Owen and me, but society. I wanted to believe that we were learning that there was more than one way for a man to show affection. I knew Cormac, Stolly, and I lavished our kids with love.
Felix wouldn’t be part of a broken cycle…I straightened. No maybes about it. He wouldn’t.
“No, Adam.” His voice was softer, kindlier, but also edged in steel, which told me Owen meant business.
That was the voice he used with surly contractors, and I’d bet with his former soldiers.
“I knew I wanted you to live with me before I left for basic training. I planned the shortest stint I could with the highest rank I could achieve during those years in order to make that future with you happen.”
I absorbed that.
“You don’t remember?” Owen prodded.
“Remember what?”
Owen took a deep breath. “I extracted you from their trailer—with the help of my army buddies—one of whom was Ashley.”
The doorbell rang and Naomi’s voice drifted down the stairs, but I was stock still, shell-shocked by Owen’s revelation.
“Ashley…?”
“Was with me from the get-go. That guy helped me pick out the right house in the right neighborhood with the right schools. He tutored you during those early weeks after you moved in with me, making sure you could read so that you’d be in first grade with the rest of the kids your age.
He was the person I turned to first, always, when I had a question about how best to raise you.
” Owen sipped from his coffee, relaxed and seemingly without a care in the world.
The fucker. How could he drop such a big bomb on me and expect me to not pace? Which I started doing, making small laps around the room.
“You going to get the door?” Owen asked.
“What? Oh.” I strode toward into the entryway and flung it open. “You helped raise me?”
Naomi said, “What?” from the bottom stairs behind me while Ashley shrugged, his expression turning sheepish behind the beard dotting his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“How come I don’t remember?” I asked. “Any of that?”
“Probably because you were processing your former life and what it meant to actually be safe. That takes a lot out of kids.” Ashley peered at me kindly. “Are you all right? I mean, with that information. If you need me to go.”
“Go? Leave? No way.” I lunged, pulling him into a tight bear hug. “You’re part of this family.”
“Aw. That’s quite a sweet little line,” Owen said.
My cheeks burned softly as I grunted, stepping back. “I mean, Naomi and I still need to make sure you’re a good fit for Felix.”
“Of course.” Ashley shoved his fists into his pockets. “Your son comes first.”
Naomi stepped up to my side. “Family comes first in this house.” She smiled. “Come in. Sally was about to have a coffee. We’ll get you one, too. Then, maybe, we could get down the Christmas tree and start decorating.”
I snagged my arm around her shoulder and pulled her in so that I could kiss the top of her head even as I stepped back to let Ashley into the house.
I had more questions for Owen and Ashley.
There were more answers that I wanted, probably needed from them.
But when Mimi arrived that night, the most important people in my life surrounded me.
Sally had offered to make lasagna, so we gorged ourselves on good food and passed Felix around to the many welcoming arms…
and finally got to celebrate the holidays as I’d always dreamed—with lots of laughter and love and acceptance.
Who cared that it was weeks early? Who cared that this group of people wasn’t all bound by genetics? We were a family forged by life and tough decisions and choice.
And it was pretty damn special.
“Let’s have a party,” I said as Naomi and I crawled into bed later that evening. Mimi had gone back to her apartment, but Owen, Sally and even Ashley were staying here. I felt better about Ashley after Owen’s revelations, but Naomi and I needed to get used to another person in the house, long term.
If we kept Ashley around, which based on how he fit in tonight and with the Wildcatters, was a good bet.
“Why?” Naomi yawned so widely, her jaw popped.
“Because it’s the holidays.”
“Thus, already jam-packed with too many things going on.” She pried open one eye to study me. Then, she opened the other. Her lids sagged, but she was awake enough to get that look in her eye. “You’re still testing Ashley.”
“I’m not…” At her raised eyebrow, I sighed. “A little. I mean, it’s just that he’s not what I expected when we talked about Felix’s nanny.”
“So? I’m sure most people didn’t expect to find out your dad was your older brother. Or that I raised Mimi. Or—”
“You’re right. But…I don’t know. I just need to get the team’s blessing.”
Naomi smiled. “They’re also family. In some ways, closer to us than our actual family. At least some of them.” I knew Naomi was thinking about her mother, who’d done her best, just as she knew I was thinking about my parents, who I wasn’t sure had tried very hard with me at all.
I shifted, pulling the sheet to cover my bare shoulder. “You’re right.”
“I’m always right.” She yawned. “No big bash. Instead, I’ll host the baby group’s next meeting. Those are the people’s opinions you want, anyway.”
“Have Ashley help you set it up.”
She gave my chest a half-hearted pat right before she began to snore softly.
Naomi
Perhaps because so many helpers filled our home, all of whom were more than happy to snuggle little Felix, but we finally slept well, and for multiple days.
Now, it was Baby Group Day. Tomorrow, Owen and Sally flew back to Michigan.
I was going to miss them. But for now, we had six infants and twelve parents plus caregivers to host.