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“I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I’m not enjoying it. But don’t listen to me, and you loved being pregnant with Tommy. It’ll probably be different for you. I’m just glad I’ll have someone who understands.”
I rub my stomach, and fear seeps in. I didn’t exactly enjoy being pregnant the last time, especially when the weather washot. Nor did I enjoy it in the last trimester when I couldn’t get comfortable or sleep for more than an hour before getting up and going to the bathroom.
“Between us, Kyla’s not going to have much time to dwell. She’ll have four new grandchildren to keep her busy.”
Sometimes, I believe everything happens for a reason. Are we blessed with twins right at this moment and moving forward to grow our families and for our mother-in-law, to keep her busy, to give her a reason to get up every day and be with family? I’m not sure. But I do know the Simmons are my family, and one day, when Myles and I are old and grey, we will have had one hell of a life together.
Epilogue
Cas
Was there a flicker of a moment where I blamed Leo for Ricky’s death? I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t. It didn’t last long, and I’ll never breathe a word about it to anyone, ever. Would it have been the same if I still wore the president’s patch? We’ll never know. But as I look around at Sparky, Slade, and Dex, all of us sat around Ricky’s grave, the dirt still fresh, my old friend pain radiates around my chest.
“It’s fuckin’ bullshit gettin’ older,” Sparky huffs, tipping a bottle of tequila to his lips. “Look at us, only the four of us past the age of thirty-five.”
Slade snorts. “It’s been a long while since we saw our thirties.”
“Talk for yourselves. My thirties are only just in the rearview, brother,” Dex chimes in.
“It’s the natural order,” I pipe up. “You’re just pissed that we used to be the young ones. Oak, Pope, Michael, they were us, but back then.”
“Fuck, I miss the old days. I swear it’s harder losing people now than it was back then,” Sparky continues his pity party. “Who’s going to be next? Me? Fuck, I can’t get out of bed in the morning without something clicking or aching. Long rides have my back killing me for days after. Or you, Cas, or you, Slade? Shit, it’s not gonna be Dex, as he pointed out, he’s younger than us.”
“Fuck’s sake, Sparks, we came out here to toast with Rick, his boy getting hitched today. I didn’t realise we were gonna spend it crying.” I snort.
Sitting up straight, he waves the tequila bottle around as he speaks. “Go on then, tell me, what would you rather? To grow old like Pope, which he fuckin’ hated. Or taken out by a bullet so fast you don’t even know you’ve died?”
I've known Sparky for far too long to know he’s not going to drop this until he either passes out from the drink or I give him an answer.
“I used to think bullets, all the way. Die for the club. When I passed down the patch, I guessed my odds of reaching old age grew higher, but watching Pope crumble like that, I guess I just wanna go to sleep. Cuddle up to Alannah one night and never see the next morning. What about you?”
He snorts. “I wanna live forever.”
“Then you’re fucked,” Slade quips.
“Seriously, brothers, what happened? Where has the time gone? One day, we were fuckin’ about, no responsibilities, no worries, and now we’re watching grown men we held as babies get married. They’ve got their own fuckin’ kids.”
“Drink more, Sparks, let this night end for you… and for us.” Dex laughs, and I join in.
“It’s hard to lose any one of us, but we’ve lost two old timers in one blow. It’s bound to make us reevaluate shit.” I shrug. “Do you remember when Rick went to get Pope’s blessing to makeKyla his old lady? If it had been anyone else, they would’ve shit themselves to death having Pope shoving a gun down their throat.”
“It’s gonna be a long time before another Pope comes around,” Slade says.
“You don’t know. The twins are pumping out babies all over the place. And don’t forget Victoria’s boy, mixed with a Jackson, he could grow to be worse,” Sparky points out.
Since he’s pointing out the obvious, I don’t punch him. “You’re not wrong.”
Silence weaves through us. Slade stares off at India’s grave. Sparky pours some of his tequila over Rick’s grave. Dex tips his head back and stares up at the stars.
We all knew there’d be a day when our sons came and took over. None of us counted on feeling so old when it happened. We’ve suffered so much loss over the years that it’s hard to separate the guilt and grief. There’s always something we could’ve done differently.
“You think they really are watching over us?” Dex asks quietly.
“I’ve gotta believe they do. Otherwise, they’re truly gone, and I couldn’t bear it,” Sparky tells him.
Dex looks at me. “What about you, Cas? I know you don’t believe in much like that, but when you say they’ll always be with us and shit, do you really believe it yourself?”
I don’t believe in the Lord, or Heaven or Hell, and all that, but I’m not completely closed off that there could be something. The only time I feel it could be true is when we lose someone. Every time I ride into the club, I feel them. When I’m in the bar, I feel every brother who’s drunk there before they met their end. I can still feel Michael and Big Ron when I’m in the back room. It’s not often, but every now and then, they’re there.
