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Yvie shrugs. “It’s true. You know, it’s funny, your dad didn’t reach any level of hot until after he became a drummer, and then all the women wanted him. Yet, he never dated anyone. No exes in the closet or anything.”
“Well, there’s Alicia.”
“What she did to my brother.” Yvie pauses and shakes her head. “I love my nephew more than anything, but that woman deserved jail time. Still to this day, I see nothing but rage. And then to pull that shit with Quinn a few years ago. I swear, if I ever meet her . . .” She trails off.
What my dad and Quinn went through is still fresh in my mind. Sometimes, I look at Nola and wonder how he stayed with her. I guess when you’ve met the one you’re supposed to be with, it doesn’t matter how they ended up in your life.
8
NOAH
Every morning when Xander arrives, it’s like a reprieve because the night before was like a nightmare. I love my mother-in-law—I’ve loved her my entire life—but I need to find a way to keep her away from my wife. Yes, I know they have some mother-daughter bond, but the daughter in this situation—my wife—is fucking miserable and her mother makes things worse when she’s here. I know Katelyn means well, but she’s nitpicking about shit that’s completely out of Peyton’s control. Peyton can’t help that she was in an accident that nearly killed her and can’t change the damage done to her. It is what it is and there isn’t anything any of us can do about it. Katelyn telling Peyton the shots don’t hurt and to just relax only make things worse.
Is it my place to say something to Katelyn?
Should Peyton?
She’s already an emotional wreck. She’s tired, mad at her body, and herself. She’s irritable and uses me as her punching bag. But when we go to bed, things are good. Peyton’s in my arms where she belongs.
Peyton comes out of the bathroom, her long hair in wet clumped sections after her shower. I beckon her to me and take the hairbrush from her. “Want me to brush your hair?” Her eyes well up with tears instantly. I’ve done this before and she hasn’t cried, but ever since she started these damn shots, even if I stand next to her and brush my teeth at the same time she is, we’ve got tears.
Never mind walking into a store or near some baby shit. I know I will never fully comprehend how she feels about being a mother. Guys have it fucking easy. And if I could take away the agony and heartache she feels on a daily basis or each time pees on a stick and it’s negative, I would do it in a heartbeat. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.
My wife sits on our bed with her back to me. I love having a height advantage over her, it’s perfect for times like this. She can sit here, where she’s comfortable and not on the floor or in a chair. When Katelyn or Elle do this with her or vice versa, they’re always getting up on their tip toes or standing on a step stool to reach. It’s cute and sometimes comical.
I missed my third calling as a beautician or whatever they’re called these days. Brushing Peyton’s hair has become like an art for me. I start at the bottom, work through the tangles, and then work my way up. I go slow, so I don’t tug on her scalp. Doing this makes me want to have a daughter, and if we do, I hope she looks like her mother. She’d be one lucky little girl, that’s for sure.
Regardless, we’ll take whoever science graces us with. A boy or girl. I don’t even care. I just want my wife to become a mother to our child. We just need one, even though I know she wants three or four. One to spoil rotten will be plenty.
“What do you think of Noah Jr.?”
“Who’s that?” I realize after I ask that I’m literally the densest husband on the planet right now. I don’t try to correct myself because Peyton has absolutely earned the right to make me look like the idiot I am.
“Oh gee, I don’t know, Noah!”
“Yeah, yeah.” I continue running the brush through her hair. “Honestly, babe. I’m not a fan.”
“Really? I love your name.”
“That’s because you love my d.”
“No, I’m pretty sure your dick isn’t named Noah.”
“Don’t say naughty words out loud.”
Peyton cracks up. “Why do you think the eggs can hear you? What are you going to do when there’s a baby in there?”
“What do you mean?”
She turns and looks at me, as if I should know the answer. Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. “You are a dirty talker, Noah Westbury. I hope you know this about yourself.”
Again, I say nothing.
“And yes, we will have sex when I’m pregnant.”
“I don’t want my thing poking the baby.”
“Your thing?” Peyton laughs hard, and I love every second of it.
