Rushing back to the living room, I stack two laundry baskets full of clothes, blankets, and diapers and drop them into one of the spare bedrooms. There is no point in putting them in the room that will be our son’s because it still needs to be painted.
By the time Hudson comes home, I have just torn down the last box. “Wow,” he says, walking into the room with Hayes in his arms.
I rush over and take our boy from him. “I thought you got lost.”
“Mom insisted on packing up leftovers for us to have for dinner. I told her she didn’t have to, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“That was sweet of her.”
“It was. Are you seriously unpacked?”
“Yes. Well, everything but this little guy. I figured that could wait until we paint.”
“Bruce called while I was at my parents’. He’s off tomorrow, and he’s going to stop by. We’re going to knock the painting out, so it has time to dry, and by the time we move his furniture this weekend, he will be set.”
“Perfect.”
“You found your drawers?” he asks.
“Yeah. When did you do that?”
“When I moved in. I knew I wanted a life with you. It hit me hard when I was buying the furniture. I tried to pick something I thought you would love.”
“You did that over a year ago.”
“I know.”
“Took you long enough to make a move, Fleming.” I bite down on my cheek to keep from smiling, and hell, maybe even to keep from crying. This man… the way he loves us is life altering.
“Hey, you weren’t exactly throwing off the ‘take me’ signals,” he says, snaking an arm around my waist. “But I had hope, Riles. Hope that one day I would get up the nerve to make my move. I’m glad I did. I’m glad we are where we are, and I’m grateful for our son.”
“Feed me, baby daddy,” I say when my stomach rumbles.
“That title is going to change real soon, Riles.” He kisses my cheek and releases me. “I’ll warm up dinner. You relax.”
“Sounds good.” I follow him out to the open living space and take a seat on the couch. Just as I sit, I see another box by the door. “Ugh.”
“What?”
“I missed one.” I look down at my son. “How about Mommy lets you lay on your comfy blanket and stretch out while I check out this last box.” I spread a couple of blankets out on the floor and settle him on his back. He coos and waves his hands around. He’s growing up so fast.
Once I have Hayes settled, I head to the door where the last box sits. I don’t remember packing it, so it must have been Hudson. When I pick up the box, I see a shipping label. “Babe, this is yours. I think it was the package that was on the front porch earlier.”
“Who’s it from?” he asks, sliding a casserole dish into the oven.
“Wait, I thought your mom sent leftovers?” I ask.
“She did. All of them. I told her it was too much, but you know how Mom is. I thought it would be easier to just heat it up in the oven.”
“Got ya.” I look down at the package. “It’s from Clay.” I smile at him.
“Really? Open it. I don’t know what he would be sending me.”
Peeking on Hayes, who is fighting to keep his eyes open, I set the box on the island and pull open a drawer to find the scissors. Cutting open the box, I see a plain white envelope with Hudson’s name scrawled across it and what looks like a few other pieces of mail and “Is this a journal?” I ask him. When he doesn’t answer, I turn to look at him, and he’s watching me.
“Yeah, that’s a journal,” he says, swallowing hard. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He bolts out of the room and down the hall to his bedroom, well, now our bedroom. He’s back in no time and nods toward the envelope with his name on it that I’m still holding. “What’s it say?”
“It’s your mail.”
“Open it. You can read it to me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He moves around the kitchen, grabbing plates, and filling two glasses with sweet tea, while I pull the single sheet of paper out of the envelope.
Hudson,
I heard you’re a dad. And not from you. What’s up with that? You need to keep me informed, my man. Anyway, I got a letter from Raven, and she filled me in. I’m glad everything worked out for you. It makes me want to take a page out of your book, or should I say journal, and fight for what I want too. In case you’re not sure, that’s Raven. Anyway, I don’t think you need it, but you left your journal behind when you left. There was some mail that was delivered too. A letter from your mom, Raven, and it looks like one from Riley as well. I expect some mail from you soon. It’s not the same here without you.