Lucas (Cold Fury Hockey 8)

When we reach the edge of the lake, we take seats on the outdoor furniture that's set up around a fire pit. Mom curls her legs up under her and stares at me with bright eyes. "So...how ready are you really to be a dad?"

"Not ready at all," I tell her with a laugh. "But I will be by the time the baby's born."

"Big change for you," she muses with a serene smile. "I always wanted my kids to have babies, but I never thought you'd be the first."

"I never thought I'd be the first either, but shit happens, right?" I tell her with a grin.

She wrinkles her nose over my curse word. She's a public-speaking coach and thinks cursing in any form is crass. Unfortunately, with three boys, she's had to adapt to us.

"Tell me truthfully," she begins in a sober voice. "What are the issues you're going to be facing?"

"Issues?" I inquire evasively. I knew Mom would poke and prod at me, but I wasn't going to make it easy on her. I like making her work at her job as a wonderfully involved parent.

She rolls her eyes at me, another trait that lends to her youthful nature, because it's a little immature. I grin at her and she glares at me. "Spill it, Lucas. This was an unplanned pregnancy. While I know you're a family man at heart, I also know this wasn't what you wanted at this time in your life. I want to help you deal, so tell me...what are the issues you're facing?"

I contain my fond smile because she amuses me, and give her a little. "Well, the pregnancy seems to be going--"

"Not the pregnancy," my mom interrupts me, and my eyes widen at the iron in her voice. "I want to know about you. How are you doing with all of this, and don't think to lie to me."

"You act as if this is ruining my life," I say defensively over her mama-bear claws that came out.

She shakes her head, those blond curls swinging. "A baby would never ruin anything. But I also know this wasn't in your immediate plan. This is a disruption to your life, and more importantly, you're not doing this in the traditional sense."

"Traditional sense?"

"Lucas," my mom reprimands me. "Don't play stupid. You're young and you're enjoying the single life. I know you, middle son. Max is the one who was always the old soul and I knew he'd settle down fast. Malik is going to be on an adventure his entire life and probably will never settle down with someone. But you're a combo of the two. You take great advantage of your youth and you're on a mission to squeeze every drop of fun and vitality out of your life before you do settle down. You weren't done squeezing, Lucas, and you're moving on to settling down not through a choice of your own, but by an accident. You were not ready for this, so I want to know how you're doing."

My mouth hangs open in surprise over how astute and incredibly silly my mother is. "All I can envision is me standing at a sink squeezing juice from grapes or something in my mouth."

"Lucas," she snaps at me, but her lips are curved in annoyed amusement. "Talk to me."

Still smiling at her, I settle back in my chair and prop an ankle on my knee. "You're right. I wasn't ready for this. Or at least I didn't think I was, but Mom, there's a tiny little thing growing inside Stephanie that's partly me, and it's weird and amazing at the same time. I may have been enjoying the single life, but it's not the only thing that can make me happy."

My mother nods in understanding. She raised us well and she never doubted that any of her boys would ever shirk responsibility, but she's still not satisfied. "Are you happy?"

I tilt my head at her, finally seeing the true worry hidden in her green-brown eyes. "Of course, I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I know you and you're a traditional type of guy," she says softly, and I feel the first stirrings of her doubt in Stephanie. "For all your wild ways, you're still the guy that believes in true love and will get down on bended knee to make a woman his. And you're a family man. You want to be actively involved and you want to share love. I don't know Stephanie. Haven't met her yet. But I've learned enough so far to know that what you two have is not traditional in any sense. The way things have happened to you and the current journey you are on is not how you'd planned it."

"True," I say without hesitation, even though her words have shaken the ground under my feet. "But I can adapt."

"Sure you can," she returns with a breezy wave of her hand. "But as your mother, I only want the best for you. I don't want you to have to adapt. I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of, and if you can't have it, I want to help you be at peace with it."

Fuck...there's a lump in my throat now and I'm not sure I can even respond to her. She just stares at me with those eyes that have always made me want to curl up in her lap, and I don't like this feeling. I'm not a little boy but a man, and I can handle these things.

I think.

I swallow through a parched throat and cough slightly. "It's not how I envisioned my life going, but it's also not bad either. Stephanie is great and she's letting me be involved. Letting our whole family be involved."

"And what exactly is your relationship with her?" she asks bluntly. I want to tell her to mind her own business, but that won't fly with her.

"We're friends," I say slowly, making sure I'm giving it to my mom exactly how it is so she doesn't get grandiose ideas. "And we're more."

"You called it 'casually complicated' in one of our conversations," she reminds me, and that's was true at one point, but the casual nature of our relationship is totally in question.

"Very complicated," I sigh roughly. "Stephanie is...well, she's amazing. Beautiful, smart, funny, outgoing."

"But--"

"But she's also closed off, and with good reason. She didn't have a good upbringing. She was severely neglected, and so she's the type of woman who just sort of depends on herself for things."

My mom's eyes are now worried, and that wasn't my intent, so I rush to try to reassure her. "She's going to make a fantastic mother. I don't want you to worry about that because I don't. It's her first chance at true love...that baby. She won't waste it."

"What about you?" she asks softly.

"That's something even I don't know the answer to," I admit glumly. "We're friends. Sometimes I think we're close and she shares stuff little by little. Other times, she keeps me at a distance and doesn't want me to help her. She's hot and cold, and it's confusing, but I also understand it. She's never had a relationship before, so it's hard for her."

"You've never had a close relationship before either," my mom points out. "You're a serial dater."

"Yes, that's true. But the difference is I had amazing role models in my parents. I may not have experienced a real relationship with commitment, trust, loyalty, and love, but I've watched you for twenty-seven years and I have a good idea of how it's supposed to go. Stephanie has absolutely no frame of reference. Mom, when I tell you she was neglected, I don't mean physically. She grew up in a wealthy household, but her parents didn't pay attention to her at all. She may have had gourmet food in her belly and designer clothes on her back, but she has no concept of that original type of love we're supposed to learn from our parents."

"That's terrible," my mom whispers, and I can see tears of empathy for Stephanie welling.

"I just want you not to be upset if she's not overly warm," I explain to her. "Don't pressure her on things, and try not to go overboard with your involvement in the pregnancy. Let her reach out to you for what she needs, which probably will not be at all."

"I hate this for you," my mom murmurs. "Just hate it. It's not how I wanted your role as a parent to be. I wanted you to have love along with it."

Pushing up out of my chair, I go to my mom and squat down before her chair. I put my hands on her knees and give her a reassuring smile. "I want something more with Stephanie and I'm going to try to get it. But it's going to be a slow process, and I'm a patient man. I want you to be patient too, and it will all work out the way it's supposed to, and I'll know that I've done everything in my power to make it happen."

My mom gives me a misty-eyed smile and p

uts her fingers in my hair brush to it off my forehead. Her eyes roam over my face. "How did you get to be so wise? You're making my job obsolete."

Laughing, I tell her, "I had good instructors. You and Dad are pretty fantastic at your parental jobs."

"Okay," she says as she pulls her hand away from me. "I'm going to sit back and let you run this show, as long as you promise me that you'll be careful not to get hurt."

"I promise," I say without hesitation, but only so she's assured. There's a real chance I'm going to get hurt if Stephanie can't let her walls down completely, but my mom doesn't need to be burdened with that.

"Let's go back inside," I say as I stand up and hold my hand out to her. "Stephanie will be here soon."

My mom lets me pull her up from the chair and we start walking back up to the house. "So we're done talking about this, huh?"

"For now," I tell her as I squeeze her hand.