Swear (Landry Family 4)

“Right? Imagine what he’d do when he’d realize he can’t put it on his schedule,” I laugh. “He’d have a complete breakdown when there are toys strung out everywhere and baby puke on his ties.”

We laugh, the sound catching Graham’s attention. He flashes us a look but I wave him off.

“What about you?” Lincoln asks, his voice quiet. “You think you’ll settle down soon?”

My chest rumbles as I feel the seriousness of the question.

“Right,” he says, sparing me from having to answer. He scoots up in his chair as Graham marches towards us. G looks at me and then at our brother.

“That was Mallory,” Graham says too carefully. “We need to calmly and rationally head back to the clubhouse.”

“Why?” Lincoln barks, his eyes going wide.

He takes a deep breath. “Your wife is in labor.”

“Oh, dear God,” Lincoln says, turning white. He pops the golf cart in drive and takes off, Graham leaping onto the back in the nick of time.

“Slow down!” Graham laughs, climbing into a seat. “Labor can take hours, Lincoln. We don’t need to drive like a bat out of hell.”

“She’s in labor,” Lincoln nearly shouts. “And I’m not there.” He looks at me. “Screw you, Ford, for making me come today. I will never forgive you for this.”

He continues on a tirade, cutting through the greens and getting shouts from other golfers for interrupting their game as we head back to the clubhouse.

Lincoln doesn’t even have the thing stopped before he jumps off and makes a mad dash to Graham’s SUV.

“You’re driving,” I tell Graham as we follow our brother. “I need to be free in case he needs restrained.”

Graham elbows me as we watch Lincoln pace back and forth, his arms thrown up in the air. “Maybe just knock him out now. It’ll make for a more peaceful ride to the hospital.”

Ford

“THERE’S UNCLE FORD.” LINCOLN’S WHISPER is barely heard over the beeping of the machine hooked up to Danielle. Mom said they were giving her some fluids. Even though the delivery went quick and fairly easy, she still lost a lot of blood and they want to keep an eye on her.

I close the door softly behind me. Danielle is lying in the bed, her eyes closed. Lincoln sits in the plastic blue chair beside her bed looking into the nest of blankets in his arms, whispering things to his newborn son that I can’t hear. I stand just inside the doorway and take it all in.

The fe

eling in the room is the most peaceful thing I’ve ever felt. There’s so much love floating around among the baskets of flowers on the windowsill that you can almost reach out and touch it.

Lincoln and I have had our fair share of arguments over the years. The two youngest of the boys in the Landry family, the two most athletic and physical out of the bunch, we’ve had moments where we’ve really butted heads. But to see this—my baby brother, the All-Star pro-baseball player with shoulders as broad as a barn, holding this little baby in his giant hands with the tenderness of a parent—is incredible.

Something has changed in Lincoln since I saw him a few hours ago. He’s somehow more ferocious than I’ve ever seen him, yet, at the same time, the gentlest he’s ever been.

He looks up as I wipe the side of my eye. With a grin, he simply nods his head. That’s all he really needs to say.

“How ya holding up?” I ask, clearing my throat of the emotion that’s started to build.

“He’s perfect, Ford. Absolutely perfect.” He lifts the baby’s hand from beneath a blanket. “Look at this—centerfielder hands if I’ve ever seen them.”

I laugh softly, reaching out and touching his little palm. His fingers wrap around mine, not long enough to close around it completely. I look up at Lincoln and he beams.

“With that grip, he may be a better hitter than his dad,” I whisper.

Lincoln chuckles.

“What did you name him?” I ask.

Linc looks briefly at Danielle as she begins to stir. He forces a swallow as he watches her intently until she settles down.