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“Your mom said the same thing when she brought the costume home for me.”
“Are we handing candy out?”
She nods as she sits down. “Your mom and I are going to sit on the porch. This way the kids don’t have to knock, and Stevie Nicks won’t bark.”
“I think Mack is taking her out tonight.”
Peyton frowns. “I’d rather her stay home, Noah. Mack’s a great kid and I trust him, but others . . .” she pauses and shakes her head. “It’ll be dark, and I’ll worry about her.”
“Okay. She’ll stay home. Mack will understand.” I sit down on the couch, as close to her as I can get. Peyton presses the button to recline and I’m instantly jealous because the chair looks comfortable. “Maybe we’ll get one of those for the new house.” We were able to find a house perfectly situated between my parents and Nick, which I really like in case the babies need him in the middle of the night. We won’t move in until renovations are done.
My grandma Bianca, offered to sell us her house—the one she shared with Sterling—and while it’s big and perfect for our growing family, it’s not perfect for my parents. My dad experienced so much childhood trauma there, not to mention how uninvited my mom felt. I wouldn’t want to see my parents’ agony when they came over. If they came over. It’s much easier for my grandma to sell the house.
Peyton has her eyes closed. “So, you can rest your eyes while you’re watching whatever sporting event is on TV?”
I chuckle. “Yep, while I’m shirtless and the triplets are snoozing on me.”
She opens one eye. “I’m already pregnant. You don’t need to keep trying to knock me up.”
“If only,” I say, laughing.
I turn the volume down, so she can take a nap. I know she’s tired and exhausted most days. The triplets take a lot of her energy, and her hips are starting to hurt. She doesn’t tell me she’s in pain, but I can see it sometimes, especially when she’s been on her feet for too long or when the boys start kicking her. So far, our little girl is an angel and only gives her mama love taps, as Peyton describes them. I do think she’s kicking the crap out of her brothers though and showing them who’s boss. She’s not even here yet and she knows she’ll be the princess of the family. While the kicking eventually starts to hurt Peyton, I love to feel the babies kick. It’s such a unique feeling and very trippy to watch. Sometimes I feel like I’m not doing my part as their dad and Peyton’s partner. Right now, all the burdens are on her, while I sit back and wait. When she’s really uncomfortable, I’ll talk to the babies or read to them in hopes they calm down. It’s all I can really do right now, besides massage Peyton’s back.
When the front door opens and screaming ensues as well as barking from Stevie Nicks, I realize I had fallen asleep as well. Peyton looks at me, wide eyed, as I stand to go see what the commotion is in the kitchen.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Paige screams at the top of her lungs just as I enter the room. “That’s all you ever do, tell me what I can and can’t do and I’m tired of it.”
“Go to your room, Paige.” My mom points in the general direction of where the stairs are.
Paige crosses her arms and leans her hip against the counter. “No.”
Oh shit.
Mom looks at me and then back at my sister. “I’m going to make things really simple here, Paige. My house. My rules. You will go to school. You will get good grades. You will respect your teachers. If these rules in regard to school are something you can’t live by, then by all means see yourself out.”
“You’d kick me out because I told my teacher to fuck off?”
“Paige!”
She looks at me. “What? Like you’ve never said fuck?”
“It’s not that,” I tell her. “You don’t disrespect your teachers.”
“Right! But he can disrespect me? Got it!”
“No, I’m not saying that. It’s all in how you handle things. If he says something you find inappropriate, you tell Mom or Dad, and let them deal with it. You don’t get yourself in trouble over something you can’t control. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of asshole teachers. They’re out there and you’ll always have one. But saying stupid shit back to them only makes things worse. You have Mom and Dad for a reason. Use them.”
Paige’s expression changes and she wipes at her cheeks. I hadn’t noticed she was crying. “You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”
“You’re you and you were this amazing quarterback and pitcher. Everyone loved you. These teachers look at me and ask me what I’m going to do because of Dad and you. Like, why am I not enough? Why do I have to be famous or some standout sports player? Why can’t I just be me?”
“You can,” I say as I step closer and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “You can be whatever you want to be. No one says you have to follow in mine or Dad’s footsteps. I didn’t.”
“But you did, Noah. He played football and broke all these records. I can’t even walk down the hall without seeing your names everywhere and then these teachers look at me and they don’t see me, they see Liam Page’s daughter or Noah Westbury’s sister. The shadow is suffocating.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “This isn’t something Dad and I can control.”
