“Because we deserve it too,” Stephanie says, patting her husband’s hand. “After everything.”
“Dude,” Creed says. “You guys look really freaked out right now. This is hilarious. I can’t wait for you to—JJ, I swear to god, if you try and order pizza from the courtesy phone one more time, I will drop-kick you
r video game into the ocean. Do you understand me?”
JJ sets down the phone gingerly. I hadn’t even seen him move. “How do you do that?” I ask Creed. “You weren’t even looking at him.”
“I told you, man. When your kids come out of the chick you knocked up, you get superpowers,” Creed says, waggling his eyebrows.
“Goo-rah!” AJ shrieks, fat little fists waving in the air.
“He already somehow ordered an olive and anchovy pizza,” Anna says with a sigh. “Twice.” She then socks her husband in the shoulder. “And if you ever refer to me as the chick you knocked up again, I will drop-kick you into the ocean.”
“You are the light of my life,” Creed says. “And also, did you notice how rock hard my bicep is? Didn’t even jostle the little guy.”
AJ screams again. He’s a loud, loud child.
“Is Otter about to fall over?” Izzie whispers to the Kid.
“He does look really pale,” Ty whispers back.
“Be nice,” Dom says to the both of them, cuffing them on the back of the head. “It’s a really stressful time.”
“What are you all doing here?” I ask.
They all stare at me blankly for a good long moment.
“You’re having children,” Alice says slowly. “You do know that, don’t you?” She glances at her husband. “I don’t think Bear knows where he is. Or who he is. This might be worse than we thought. Someone get a doctor!”
“He’s fine,” Otter says, swaying just a little. I step closer to him, letting him lean on me. “We just didn’t expect you guys here so soon.”
“Where else would we be?” Jerry asks. “You guys are about to have your children. Of course we’re going to be here.”
And maybe there’s something to my thought that pregnant-woman hormones are contagious by proximity, because as soon as his father says that, as soon as those earnest words land upon us, my big, strong, ridiculous husband bursts into tears.
Everyone gapes at him except for his father, who steps forward and wraps him in a hug, Otter’s head lying on Jerry’s shoulder.
“Holy hell,” Ty breathes. “Is the world ending?”
“He’s just a little overwhelmed,” Jerry hums, patting his son’s back, chin hooked over his shoulder. “It happens.”
Ty looks at me. “Why aren’t you crying? If anyone should be crying, it should be you. Everything is being thrown off-kilter! Fix this!”
“Hey! I don’t always cry.”
“Sarah McLachlan SPCA commercials,” Izzie says.
My eyes start burning. “That is so unfair,” I snap at her. “I mean, really, Sarah? You just have to play that damn song in the background while focusing on a puppy with eyes as big as cantaloupes? Really?”
“Okay,” Ty says, taking a breath. “That feels a little better. Things are slowly righting themselves.”
Otter’s still clinging to his father, breath hitching, rubbing his face on Jerry’s shoulder. Regardless of whether Ty’s being a dick about it, it’s sort of true. Otter’s never like this. It’s not that he’s never emotional. Of course not. No one wears their heart on their sleeve like Otter Thompson. But I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him cry since I’ve known him, the last time being when we found out we were pregnant, and the time before that being our wedding day. Years can go by with absolutely nothing, but here he is, crying on his dad, and god, does it make my heart ache.
“Oh no.” Ty’s staring at me. “Bear’s starting to get that look on his face.”
“What look?” Izzie asks, studying me curiously.
“The one where he’s having a lot of feelings about something and either wants to sob, hug something, or climb Otter like a tree. Maybe even all three at the same time.”