“Twenty-five weeks.”
“Can’t make that promise.”
Grace lets out a little cry, and I break our stare, snapping my eyes to her.
“Claire, you have to hold off. I’ll never forgive you if I miss your wedding.”
I glance back at Mathis, whose lip is quirked to the side. A loud slapping sounds and I jerk in my seat, my attention slicing to Grandpa Roy.
“Doesn’t anyone else see the travesty happening here?” His southern, deep voice booms through the room, and I’m surprised Brinley doesn’t wake up.
“I hardly consider this a travesty, Roy,” Sharon replies cheerfully.
“My beautiful Claire is transforming before my eyes. What happened to my snarky, sarcastic spit-fire? She is becoming do-mest-i-cated! Cuddling sleeping babies, talking about weddings, moving in with this bozo.” He jerks his thumb in Mathis’s direction. “I see my talk with your dad didn’t get very far. Should have bought him a shotgun. Hell, even I couldn’t rile him outside. Cool as a cucumber. Pretty boy over there froze like a scared jackrabbit, but Dr. Bonehead didn’t break a sweat.” He finishes on a huff, and I blink a few times trying to process all that he said.
I barely hear Shaw join us but notice him smirking as he goes to Bizzy’s side. Apparently, he heard the rant and clearly enjoyed it.
When I refocus, all eyes are on me. I think quickly, trying to come up with an explanation that will prove I’m not the wretched ‘domesticated’. “Grandpa, I think we should break this down. I’m cuddling a sleeping baby because she’s my goddaughter and I leave next week for Boston. She’s going to miss me tremendously. I moved in with Mathis because it is a logical decision based solely on finances. You wouldn’t believe how much money I’m saving by shacking up with a ‘doctor’.” I use my index finger to air quote the title doctor, which gets a few under-breath chuckles. “If you listened correctly, you heard us talking about getting hitched in Las Vegas… the City of Sin.” This time, I drop my voice to a low, smoky tone, trying to sound sinner-ish.
Grandpa’s eyes light with amusement, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Glad to hear you’re watching out for your future by saving money, even if you do have to live with this lug. And I suspect those Vegas weddings aren’t even valid, so that’s a good thing.”
“Probably not, I’ll be married by a man wearing an Elvis costume in a small, hideously decorated chapel, and strangers will be my witnesses. Not exactly romantic.”
“Yes, I can see how that may be appealing.” Grandpa Roy is now full-out smiling, enjoying our usual wit.
“As for my dad, he did take your advice to heart. He showed up, motioned for Mathis to follow him, and they disappeared for an hour. My mom assured me there were no firearms involved, so I let them hash it out. When they returned, they reeked of whiskey, and Dad hadn’t killed him. Lastly, Mathis is laidback. It’s nearly impossible to rile him.”
“That’s not exactly true. Claire knows how to push his buttons. Last time she made him angry, he handcuffed her to him for three days,” Bizzy adds, and Mathis drops his chin to his chest.
“You did that?” Grandpa sounds impressed.
Mathis tips his head sideways, raises his eyes to Roy, and nods. “I did.”
“Maybe you’re not such a bonehead after all.”
Grace breaks first, her girlie giggle filling the room. Sharon and Bizzy crack next, joining her in hilarity. I shoot Grandpa Roy a loving glance, knowing he’s happy for me and this is his way of showing his approval.
“Now that we’ve established I haven’t gone soft, why don’t one of you lazy-ass men get me the pack n’ play where I can set Brinley down. I need to help Prego pick out furniture and bedding.”
“Give her to me. I’ll put her in Nick and Grace’s room with Brayden.” Mathis comes to me and carefully lifts her out of my arms, cradling her in his own.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from showing emotion at the delicate way he holds his niece. Bizzy catches my eye and winks, indicating that she knows what I’m thinking.
“If you women are going to be hen-pecking over baby furniture and a bunch of useless shit, I’m going back to the patio. Pretty boy, you got any beer out there?” Grandpa directs his question to Nick who is completely unfazed at his reference.
“In the cooler,” he answers, settling in the chair next to Grace.
“One more thing,” Roy looks between Nick, and Grace and I brace because his gruff shell softens, “I’m buying the furniture. You pick it out, whatever you want. When you’re ready to order it, I’m paying.”
“Roy, that’s not necessary—”
“Nick, I know you’re a multi-millionaire and I respect that. We aren’t having a discussion about this and mulling over it until it pisses me off. I’m buying my first great-grandchild their furniture. Grace may be your wife, but she’s always going to be my Peach Princess. My little Kayla is going to get the best, and I’m going to give it to her.” At this, he turns and goes out on the patio.
I know it’s coming… Wait for it…
The first sign is the sniff, then the quiet sob. Grace’s eyes swell fast, and in a second, she’s in Nick’s arms mumbling about how much she loves her grandpa. Sharon’s smiling, her own eyes wet, as are Bizzy’s. Shaw places his hands on her shoulders and massages affectionately.
Everyone knows that if Nick and Grace have a daughter, they’re naming her Kayla after her grandmother. According to Grace, when they shared this fact with him, he immediately declared they were having a girl. She’s convinced he’s doing everything short of a séance to bless them with a daughter.