Her All Along

“You and I both come from hellish backgrounds,” I murmured. “Luckily, we got to pick our families later on. You found the Quinns, and so did I.” I touched her cheek. “That matters, Pipsqueak. Even if our biological parents hadn’t hurt us the way they did, the family that sticks by you is the one that counts. To hell with biology. Grace has one mother, and it’s you.”

She finally mustered a smile, and I brushed away the tears that spilled over.

“One more thing,” I said and kissed her nose. “You’re never going to stop worrying completely. That’s part of being a good parent.”

She exhaled a laugh. “Okay. Sign me up for a lifetime of worries, then.”

Thank fuck. I hugged her to me tightly and breathed her in. “You know you make me the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet, right?”

“Good. I’m supposed to.” She was back to her cheeky self at last. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” I dipped down as she puckered her lips. “I’ll call the Realtor about the house before my class in Alameda starts.”

“Okay, good. Call me when you get home. I have a hot date with my economics paper.”

“Yeah, I know you think that’s supposed to sound boring, but now I’m jealous.”

She laughed at me.

“I’m serious.” I growled playfully against her cheek and squeezed her sweet ass. “Now I’m picturing you naked on the bed with your textbooks around you.”

Fuck. I couldn’t get hard now.

Elise just found me hilarious for some reason.

Never before had attending a high school graduation meant so much to me. Aside from my own, perhaps.

It felt genuinely good to see my students accept their diplomas, especially the ones who’d struggled so hard.

The auditorium was packed with proud parents, siblings, and grandparents, and I stood on the sidelines and applauded with them. When Jordan walked up to that podium and shook hands with the principal, I was damn proud too. Same with Mariella and Marcus.

It was humbling as well, when they sought me out afterward to thank me for “riding their asses.”

This was why I’d become a teacher. Now I just needed to bring that motivation and newfound spark back with me to Camassia.

Elise didn’t get a grand ceremony, unfortunately. She’d completed her program with a high score at the culinary institute a couple weeks ago, and today was her final class in business economics. But that didn’t mean her family wasn’t there to celebrate her. Darius and Ethan even flew down for a couple days to be here.

We met up at a restaurant along the waterfront, and once we’d ordered our food and raised our glasses to Elise, it seemed the running theme of the evening was going to be to poke fun at her and me for being the only ones who hadn’t seen our new house yet.

“Which reminds me,” Darius said, retrieving his wallet. “I’m keeping one set, and I assume Ma’s gonna want a copy.”

“I definitely do,” she agreed. “We may have been spending more time down here this year, but with our little Grace returning to Washington…”

“I remember a time when you liked your kids and wanted to be where they were.” Darius tossed me two sets of keys across the big table, and for a beat, I just stared at the keys in my hand. While the others joined in on the good-natured ribbing about Mary replacing her kids with a grandchild. A grandchild that was currently very comfortable on Nana’s lap.

What a fucking whirlwind these past couple months had been. Everything was falling into place.

We hadn’t been able to get away from work to see the house, so we’d had help from the family. Mary had taken the first tour with the Realtor to take more pictures for us. Ethan had been next, requesting a quick visit to photograph the stuff Mary had missed. And he’d sent Darius over there after that, to give me a rundown on the things that would need fixing and renovating. Even James and Willow had walked over there one evening to check things out, though they hadn’t actually entered the house.

Paperwork had been mailed. The transaction was complete. Keys in my hand…

Next week, Pipsqueak and I moved in together in a new house.

It was surreal.

I had made a substantial profit from the sale of my old house too, leaving us with a buffer that I hoped would help Elise apply for a business loan this fall. She had a temporary job lined up at her grandmother’s old folks’ home, where she’d work until we found the perfect location for her business. It would give me some time to make my girl unclench about “yours, ours, mine.” She didn’t want to use what she called my money. She wanted to contribute and stand on her own, and I sympathized. But Christ, she was twenty years old, and I had fifteen years on her. She couldn’t set her expectations too high.