A Beaumont Family Christmas
“Merry Christmas,” Harrison says.
The three of them turn around. After this moment, I’m not going to remember who’s expression I looked at first, but I’m going to remember that it was Peyton who stepped forward.
“Mom, what’s going on?” she asks as her hands hover over the bundle in my arms.
“This little guy needed a family, and we just happen to have the perfect one,” Harrison says as he touches the baby’s cheek, which lifts.
“Wait, he’s ours?” Elle asks.
“For right now,” I tell them. “We intend to adopt him.”
“Whoa,” Quinn says as he comes closer. “He’s tiny.”
I nod. “He’s a safe haven baby. I’ve been holding him at the hospital since he came in.”
“Are you sure you guys want to do this all over again?” Elle asks. “You’re going to be grandparents soon.”
My eyes shoot to Elle’s. “Are you pregnant?”
“What? No!” she blanches.
“Me neither,” Nola blurts out.
“Or me,” says Peyton.
“What’s his name?” Quinn asks.
“Well, that’s where you guys come in. We wanted to decide as a family.” Harrison motions for everyone to sit and gather around the small table in the room. He tells the two names we decided on, Oliver and Ezra. “Write your choice on a piece of paper, fold it, and hand it to me.” Harrison rips up a sheet of paper from the tablet on the table and hands each of us a piece. We only have one pen, so he hands it to me first, and I pass it on to Elle. When we’re all done, Harrison has a small pile in front of him.
“Okay,” he starts. “We have a vote for Oliver.”
I look down at the baby and bounce him a little.
“Next one is for Oliver. And the next. And we have one for Ezra. Again, for Oliver. And the final one is for Ezra.” Harrison looks at me and smiles. “Looks like your name is going to be Oliver Powell-James, little buddy.”
“Ollie for short,” Elle says.
“Ollie . . . I like it,” I add. “Welcome to your family, Ollie.”
We spend the next hour or so passing Oliver around and posing for our first family photo. The girls are bummed they can’t post our picture on social media but understand the rules. When it’s time to leave, Quinn is the one who picks up Ollie’s carrier.
“Your dad can carry him,” I say as I run my fingers over his shaggy hair.
“I know, but I want to.”
“Are you okay with all of this?”
He nods and pulls me into a one-armed hug. “I think this is amazing. This little guy has no idea how lucky he is. The girls and I had the best life growing up, and Oliver is going to be so loved.”
“You’re going to the best big brother, Quinn. And when the time is right, the best father.”
Quinn chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Do we have Ollie because you’re ready to be a grandma?” His eyebrow goes up in question.
I shake my head. “Not at all. From the moment I held him and heard his story, I knew he was put in my life for a reason. Even if Nola, Elle, and Peyton come to me tomorrow and say they’re having babies, that would just make life even much better.”
“Okay, just wanted to check.” He winks at me, reminding me of his father. If Oliver turns out to be like my James men, his future spouse will be very lucky.
By the time we get to the hanger, Oliver is awake, and the girls are cooing up a storm. I’m almost jealous that I have to share him with anyone. I was the same when the twins were born. My parents and in-laws wanted them all the time, and I never wanted to give them up. Of course, that changed when the cuteness of having newborns wore off, and I longed for a five-minute nap that didn’t include puke on my shirt or a pail of dirty diapers that needed to go out. I had Mason though, and as soon as he came home from work, he took his dad duty to the next level, which allowed me to be human for a bit. I’m confident Harrison is going to be the same type of dad to Oliver. I also have a feeling that Elle and Quinn will be over a lot. Maybe even Nola.
Harrison, Quinn, and the ground crew get the plane loaded, and by the time I’ve given up supervising my guys, I find that the twins and Nola have Oliver out of his carrier and are taking turns holding him. I don’t know how long I stand there, watching them. I have no doubt they’ll make amazing mothers when the time is right for them.
When Harrison’s arms slip around my waist, I lean into his chest. “Look at them.”
“I’m looking.”
Quinn passes by us and heads to his sisters and the love of his life. The only one missing from the picture is Noah. Suddenly, my hand flies to my mouth in disbelief.