Chapter 32
Noah
I find myself not only holding Liv’s hand tighter but also holding Max protectively to my chest. He’s awake now but still resting his head on my shoulder.
Liv looks as pretty as a summer day in her pale blue dress. Not needing a lot to look naturally beautiful, her style shines in her small gold earrings and beige flat-soled sandals.
Max’s head pops up as soon as we round the corner to the back of the house, stopping in our tracks.
The hustle of movement—Harbor and Lark sitting at the table under the umbrella with my mom and dad, Marina with her big sunglasses floating in the pool on a giant pink flamingo raft practicing her future role as a movie star, and Loch and Tuesday at the small buffet table near the kitchen—halts the instant they see us.
“This was a mistake,” Liv whispers under her breath.
To keep her from running, I hold her hand firmly in mine. No way is she leaving me to face this alone. I say, “Hi, guys.”
Max giggles. “Ca.” I turn back to see the cars lined up behind me at the garage.
“Good boy,” I say, looking into his eyes. “Cars.”
Most are wearing sunglasses, but my dad squints, his eyes shifting from me to the child in my arms. “Glad you’re here, Noah,” my mom says, pushing the chair out to come greet us.
When the world shifts back on its axis, I hear birds singing in the trees in the distance, the wind gently blowing against my skin, and my family returning to whatever they were doing prior to our arrival.
“Hi, Noah,” Loch shouts, clearly more interested in food.
Marina waves like she’s the Queen of England. It reminds me of when she was elected homecoming queen back in high school on a float in a parade and at university riding around the football field in a convertible. I think it’s gone to her head. “Hey, guys.”
Lark stands, and Harbor’s right behind her, along with my dad. Although my dad wears a polo and shorts, my brother and sister-in-law are dripping in wet bathing suits, fresh from the pool.
Liv and I walk closer to the action just as my mom beelines for Max. “Who is this little guy?”
Oh shit. Do I just say it or at least get us into the party first. I glance at Liv. Every muscle in her face tells me not to do it, her hand squeezing mine like she’s trying to kill me, and then I hear her whisper, “Not yet.”
“This is Max.”
“Oh my goodness,” she says, glancing back at my dad over her shoulder. “He makes my heart squeeze. Come see, Port.” With her hand over her chest, she coos at him. “I would have had twenty kids if I could have.”
Liv smiles, and asks, “How’d you decide on four?”
“Because kids are expensive,” my dad responds, chuckling. He goes right in to tickle Max’s belly, and then turns to Liv. “I didn’t know you had a son.”
The tension slips from her shoulders, and she eases up on my hand. Beaming with joy, she replies, “Yep. Here he is.” This is the good stuff, the feel-good, pride-from-the-inside-out moments parents have in life. I feel the same, but I can’t let it shine just yet.
My mom lifts to hug me with one arm and then moves around to embrace Liv.
“He’s so handsome.” She can’t take her eyes off him.
I know why, but I’m not sure how to tell them that he’s also my child.
Maybe I should have rehearsed this after all.
“He reminds me so much of my boys. He’s a twin of Harbor at that age. ”
An eye roll threatens, but I control myself. “Harbor, pfft.” Okay, so I slip . . . sue me. “Don’t insult Max like that.”
She playfully pinches my arm. “Now. Now. All my kids were beautiful babies, like Max.”
I catch Liv’s eyes on me, a knowing exchange shared between us.
Lark comes up wrapped in a towel, and embraces my free side. “Hey, Noah, how are you?”
“I should be asking you. How are you feeling?”
Rubbing her beach towel-wrapped pregnant belly, she smiles.
As a doctor who is a recovering workaholic, she’s managed to dwindle her hours to part-time in preparation for the baby and staying home.
It shows. She looks rested and happy. Glowing, as they say.
There’s also a lightness to her eyes when she looks at Max. “You know what I think?”
She better not say Harbor, but I bite anyway. “What do you think?” I ask, angling Max for her to get a good look.
Reaching out her finger, Max takes it, eliciting her smile to bloom even brighter. “I think he looks just like Noah.” Her eyes briefly meet mine.
Having an ally is good, but I wonder if she knows the truth. Women’s intuition or doctor’s expertise? I nudge her gently. “Is that your professional opinion?”
“It is.” She moves to meet Liv as I shift over so introductions can begin for Liv and Max.
My mom gets us drinks while we settle in and then offers to play with Max in the grass away from the pool, telling us to relax and enjoy a few minutes off-duty.
Liv sits with the others at the table, but I remain standing, watching my mom talk to him.
You’d think they were having full-blown conversations by how animated they are with each other and the pockets of laughter that reach my ears.
Taking out my phone, I snap a few photos. It’s not just something I know she’ll love, but something I want to have as a keepsake of when she first met my son, her first grandchild.
Not that it matters that I am the first, and ultimate champion, in any kind of brotherly love competition for producing the first grandkid, or anything like that . . .
I rub Liv’s shoulder, and her hand covers mine.
Sitting across from us, my dad says, “I didn’t make the connection until after you left, Liv. Bancroft & Lowe. You’re Lawrence Bancroft’s daughter.”
“Yes.” She doesn’t elaborate, leaving much room for interpretation, and then sips a glass of white sangria. I know her father is the last thing she wants to talk about, but she asks, “Do you know him?”
“We’ve met. A few years back. Booming marketing business.”
She glances at me. “He hires only the best.”
Tuesday twists her hair onto her head, securing it, and then leans forward, her eyes connecting with mine. “Did you know your brothers had a running bet on you breaking the dating policy?”
I chuckle. “I have no doubt.”
“They’re truly terrible,” she jokes with Liv. “Prepare for a lot of sibling rivalry.” Touching Liv’s arm, she whispers, “Not to scare you off. They’re also the most loving family. Loyal and wonderful people.”
Liv glances at me but angles her way like she’s hanging out with a friend. Wouldn’t that be something if they had that bond? She tells Tuesday, “I’m learning that. Everyone’s been so welcoming and accepting of me, and now Maxwell.”
I ask, “Which brother of mine had my back and bet the policy wouldn’t be broken?” Glancing at Liv, I add, “I have a bit of a reputation.”
Laughter erupts around the table. Loch asks, “A bit? Massive understatement. He’s violated Westcott Law’s policy and doesn’t even work there.”
Leveling him with a glare, I reply, “You’re going to scare off my girlfriend.” I glance at her. “It’s all rumors. You know how people like to gossip.”
She takes my hand and pulls me closer as she turns in her chair.
“Your past doesn’t scare me." My sweet woman adds, “As for reputations, coming from someone who has one herself, they’re usually built on more than rumors.” With a shrug, she laughs.
“The ice queen didn’t happen overnight, you know.
It was honed with precision.” Leaning down, I kiss her cheek.
She holds me there, catching my eyes. “Let me guess. Playboy? That doesn’t sound so far-fetched, babe. ”
Everyone is smiling. I didn’t hold back during introductions and proudly proclaimed her as my girlfriend. It’s freeing being able to touch, to kiss, to enjoy our relationship in the wide open. “I haven’t been a playboy in a long time.”
She looks at my dad. “What do you think? You mentioned his reputation last time I was here. Tell me the truth, Port. Was he trouble growing up?”
My dad is quick to raise his hands in surrender. “I’m staying out of this.”
Marina sits in the chair next to Liv with a plate of snacks. Pushing her fluffy pink cover-up from getting in her food, they start talking. I’m glad they’re bonding, but I’m also happy to have the heat off me, even if briefly.
“Excuse me,” I say just before walking to join my mom and Max on the lawn. I shake my head but chuckle when I hear Marina talking about the “Noah Effect” to Liv. Walking backward, I call, “Don’t believe her, babe. It’s all an urban myth.”
Marina is already laughing. It’s a harmless theory of hers, so I don’t worry myself that Liv is now hearing it. But I know I’ll be asked about it later.
Turning, I move to sit down near my mom. She says, “He’s precious.” Max is holding her finger and happily teetering around her on the uneven ground. “He’s strong.”
“When did I start walking?”
She thinks for a minute. I know it’s a long time ago, and she has a slew of kids’ milestones to go through, but then she says, “Right around fourteen months. You were probably at this same marker as Max.”
“How about Loch?”
She laughs, playfully slapping my leg. “We’re not doing that. Just know that everyone does things in their own time.”
Like telling her that I’m his father and hoping she understands the reasons behind the delay. Max comes to me, all smiles and pure joy. I’ll do anything to protect that, understanding more of what being a father means every day.
Flopping in my lap, he rolls to his back and kicks his feet into the air. I play with his toes and then pretend to bite one, making the sounds that get him laughing the most.
“I didn’t know Liv had a child.”
When I look up, her eyes are cautious, her sunny mood shadowed by overcast clouds. “I didn’t feel that was something that needed to be thrown out there in the short time we had together at the play.”
Max has relaxed on my lap, resting his head on my leg. I start stroking his head, his hair full of static from the grass. “Remember how my hair used to stand on end from dragging my feet?”