A Beaumont Family Christmas (The Beaumont Series)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  Her hand moves quickly across the sheet of paper, writing in flowy cursive from what I can tell. I only wish I could lean forward and see what she’s putting down. Ramona closes the folder and, once again, clasps her hands together and sets them down. “Normally, I would need a home visit and some time to check your references. Under the circumstances, with time being limited and the holidays approaching, I will put that off until after the first of the year. Mr. James, you are a very public figure, and I can’t imagine you’re going to fly out of the country with the baby. Therefore, I’m going to sign-off on this foster arrangement temporarily. After I print the necessary paperwork, you’ll be able to pick Baby John up from the hospital.”

  Ramona stands and exits the room, leaving Harrison and me there, stunned. He bumps my arm with his elbow and waits for me to look at him. “I’m thinking you better get on the phone and start reserving a car seat because we’re going to need one.”

  My eyes go wide. “Oh, my God.”

  “I know.” He smiles. “We’ll go pick him up, and then we’ll go to the store to get everything else. He’s tiny, so he’ll sleep in our room. You should make a list of everything we’ll need.”

  It’s as if I’m on autopilot when I pick my phone up and open my notes app. I start typing everything I can think of from bottles to blankets. It’s been so long since I’ve had a baby, it’s hard to remember what they need to survive.

  After what seems like an hour, Ramona is back with a mountain of paperwork. At first, Harrison is hesitant to sign anything without his lawyer reading it, but after they talked last night, he said the documents wouldn’t contain anything out of the ordinary. Harrison scribbles his name on each line, and I follow. When we’re done, Ramona hands us a copy, along with her card.

  “Call me if there are any issues.”

  “There won’t be,” I tell her.

  She shows us which documents we should keep handy and cautions us on getting attached. “The parents have seven days left to in which they could change their mind. If that happens, you’ll hear from me.”

  “But we’ll be out of town,” I tell her.

  Harrison grips my hand with his. “We can fly back. It’ll be okay.”

  I don’t know how he does it, but his words calm me. “We’ll be okay,” I repeat, changing his words slightly.

  I’m in tears by the time we reach our car. Harrison holds me in a tight hug while my tears soak his dress shirt. “I hope these are happy tears,” he whispers into my ear. I nod against his chest but am unable to look at him. “That’s good because, by tomorrow night, they might be tears of frustration if the baby won’t sleep.”

  I lean back enough to look at Harrison. “I’ll never get frustrated with him.”

  Harrison kisses me on the tip of my nose, then my forehead, and finally, the top of my head. “Come on, let’s get to the store and pick up a few things for this bundle of joy and think about a name because once we tell JD that the baby’s name is John Doe, he’ll start calling him JD Jr., and I can’t have that.”

  I snort and cover my nose. “You’re right. He needs a name, even if it’s just something we call him.”

  Every thirty seconds of our drive to the store, we’re blurting out names. Not a single of one stands out. “I think we need to stop name associating. Saying we know someone or went to high school with someone with that name isn’t going to help us,” I say as Harrison pulls into the parking lot.

  “You’re right. Maybe we should call him something that is a mix of Quinn, Elle, and Peyton.”

  I slowly unbuckle and stare at Harrison. He shrugs. “It’s a good thing Quinn is a respectable name.”

  Harrison laughs and gets out of the car. We meet around the front, and he reaches for my hand. “It’s not like I would name my children rocket ship or drumstick.”

  “You might if given a chance.”

  As soon as we walk into the store, Harrison is recognized instantly. He doesn’t stop and greet the whispers as we’re on a mission. When we come to the baby section, I’m overwhelmed.

  “Holy crap, how do we pick?” I ask as Harrison pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts typing. “What are you doing? Don’t tell anyone yet about the baby. I want to surprise them.”

  “I’m looking up the best car seat on the market.”

  “Oh.” I start to browse and find a soft blanket, a couple of outfits, and a diaper bag I like. Harrison wanders off, and when he returns, he’s pushing a box with his foot.

  “Found one.”

  “Perfect.” I show him what I have in my arms. “Can you think of anything else?”

  “Nope. We can come back after we pick him up. There’s a stroller we’re going to grab on our way out. It’s a bassinet type. It’s cute. I like it.”

  “And impractical,” I tell him. “We need one that fits the car seat.”

  Harrison shrugs. “Eh, I like this one. He can have two. Also, I found a crib. It’s black and awesome.”

  “Harrison,” I groan, but he smiles. He kisses me quickly and says, “Black is manly, and our little guy needs all the confidence-boosting he can get. You can decorate his room in whatever as long as he has a music corner and a black crib. Deal?”

  I roll my eyes, knowing I can’t win all the battles. “Deal. But I get the final say on his name. I don’t want to call this baby Elquinton or something like that.”

  “Wow, babe, did you think of that name right now?”

  “Let’s go, Harrison. I want to get him home and snuggle.”

  “Me too,” he says. “Me too.”

  9

  Harrison

  I remember the day Quinn arrived on my doorstep, all I had was a motorcycle. A cheap one at that. I had to use my mom’s car, which wasn’t anything fancy or safe by today’s standards, and my sister, Yvie, often had it. The band had just started getting a sizable following and our records sold, but management pocketed most of the money back then, so I bought a run-down four-door that barely fit Quinn’s car seat. This car lasted a month or two before I invested in an SUV, something big enough to protect my son.

  Today, I don’t have that issue.

  When Katelyn and I arrived at the hospital, it was business as usual. I followed her to the nursery, where we found Ramona meeting with the nurse I had met the day before. Both women smiled softly, and the nurse told us to go on in and get the boy. Right then, I hated the way she said “the boy” because I already started considering him my son, which according to the rules of fostering, thanks to the internet, you shouldn’t get attached. I’m supposed to disassociate and remember he belongs to someone else, but I can’t. From the moment Katelyn told me she wanted to bring him home, to make him a part of our family, giving him the title of “son” is all I’ve thought about.

  I let Katelyn lead and standby in case she needs a hand. She’s a natural at getting our baby dressed. She talks to him in a low voice, coos at him, and gently rubs her fingers over his soft skin. He reacts to her, lifting his small cheek in an attempt to smile. Still, I can’t get over how small he is, and I don’t remember Quinn looking so fragile, so delicate. Katelyn dresses him in one of the outfits she picked out at the store and asks Ramona to take our picture.

  “Yes, but you can’t post it on social media,” she reminds us.

  “I know,” Katelyn says.

  We pose and smile for a few photos, and then Ramona hands Katelyn her phone back. “It’s your first official family photo,” she says. I don’t miss the words she’s used. She, too, must feel like we have a green light to adoption. Those words give me hope.

  “No, that’ll come tomorrow when he meets his brother and sisters, aunts and uncles, and cousins,” Katelyn says as she looks at the baby. “Yes, that’s right, my little man. You have a big family waiting to meet you.”

  “We should go,” I say as I put my hand on Katelyn’s lower back. “We need to get back to the store and call the kids.” Katelyn nods and continues to look at the bundle in her arms. I can
’t blame her. I’m mesmerized by him as well. She sets him down in his car seat, which seems far too big for him, even with the support piece I installed out in the parking lot. The nurse comes over after Katelyn has buckled him, checks the restraints, and gives us the instructions for his oxygen tank. Honestly, this part is makes me nervous. What if I give him too much or not enough? And what if the oxygen isn’t enough for him at night and he needs medical attention? Is he going to be strong enough to cry and let us know?

  “I’m going to miss you,” she says to him. “You’re all set. Does this mean you won’t volunteer anymore?”

  Katelyn shakes her head. “No, I’ll still come a couple of days a week, once we get settled and in a routine.”

  The nurse smiles. “I look forward to updates.”

  When given the all-clear, I grab the handle and remember how cumbersome and awkward car seats are. “You’d think someone would come up with a better system,” I mumble as we walk out of the nursery. We come around the corner, toward the nurse’s station, and everyone has gathered there. They’re clapping, not for us, but for Baby John Doe because he’s going home. Katelyn hugs a few of the women and promises to bring him back after we’ve returned from vacation.

  “I’m going to sit in the back with him,” Katelyn says when we reach the car. “Just in case.” I don’t need to ask what the just in case is for. I’ve been there. Quinn hated his car seat. Each time I’d buckle him in, he’d scream, and I would think I had pinched his leg, or the straps were too tight and hurting him. Trial and error. It’s how new parents learn, and I quickly figured out it wasn’t the car seat making him cry. It was because he liked to be held. Between my mom, sister, and me, we held Quinn every chance we could.

  After I snap the car seat into the holder—which is the best invention ever—I stand there for a moment and remember how cramped Quinn was in our first car and how this little guy takes up hardly any space. Katelyn situates herself next to him and starts talking to him right off.

  “He needs a name,” I remind her. We’ve narrowed the list down to two names, and I like both of them.

  “I want the kids to meet him first,” she tells me. A family affair, I get it. When I first saw Quinn, who didn’t have a name when his mother left him with me, his name came right to me. This little man in my backseat, I can see him with both of the names we’ve picked. Sadly, until he’s ours, he’ll be Baby John Doe and whatever number the state issued him.

  After a long and exhaustive trip to the mall, the car is fully loaded with every baby item Katelyn and I could find. We decided while shopping, if the birth mother is to come back, we’ll give her everything to help her get started. I asked Katelyn if she were sure about that, and she said yes.

  While Katelyn and the little man continue to bond, I put together the cradle we bought and set it up in our room. When we get back from vacation, we’ll have one of the spare rooms turned into his nursery, with a fresh coat of paint and all the wall decals we can find. By the time I’ve finished, my stomach is growling.

  “Hey, babe,” I say as I come into the living room. She holds her finger up over her lips, telling me to be quiet. Having a newborn in the house is going to be an adjustment for sure. Katelyn sets the new man in her life down into the portable crib and meets me in the kitchen.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks.

  I nod and lean down for a kiss. “Let’s order take-out. We still have to pack, and I want to call the kids.”

  “I don’t want to tell them just yet. Elle will rush over here, and then Peyton will be upset that she’s not here to help.”

  “I was thinking more like having them meet us someplace tomorrow so we can arrive at the lodge as a family.”

  Katelyn smiles. “I like that idea. You go call, and I’ll order dinner.”

  We kiss again, but this time it’s longer. I had big plans for us tonight, but it looks like those moments with my wife might have a schedule. It won’t be the first time we had to get creative.

  I head outside, the winter air is crisp and chilly, and close the sliding glass door behind me. I don’t want the baby to cry and alert the kids. After pulling up our group chat, I press the video button and hold the phone up, slightly away from my face. While I wait for them to pick up, I make funny faces to entertain myself.

  “Will you stop?” I can hear Quinn before I can see his face. The twins appear next, both with odd looks on their faces.

  “I get bored waiting for the three of you to answer.”

  “Dad, it’s literally seconds from when you hit the button. You can’t be that bored,” Elle adds.

  “Hi, Dad,” Peyton says. Noah is waving in the background but disappears from the frame.

  “Peyton, you are officially my favorite,” I tell the group. Quinn and Elle roll their eyes. “Okay, your mom says you’re all flying to Vermont tomorrow, right?”

  The collective sound of three yesses is music to my ears.

  “Perfect. Here is what I want to do. I’d like for Peyton and Noah to fly down here tonight and rent a room at the Hilton by the airport. I’ll organize the jet if need be. The rest of you, I want you to meet your mom and me at the hotel in the morning. We’ll fly as a family to Vermont.”

  “It’ll just be me,” Elle says. “Ben is going to his mom’s for Christmas.”

  “Bummer,” Quinn says. “Nola isn’t thrilled with the idea of snow and has vowed to stay in the lodge drinking wine.”

  I laugh because I’m sure she’s not the only one. “Your mom will happily sit with her by the fire. Did you look at the pictures of the house we’re staying in?”

  “Noah isn’t skiing either,” Peyton adds.

  “Is that your rule or a team rule?” Quinn asks.

  “Team rule,” Peyton says, laughing. “If he breaks his leg or arm, he’s screwed, and his contract is coming up for renewal.”

  Elle chimes in with, “Maybe you guys can finally move to California for good.”

  “His contract is up, not mine,” Peyton laughs and reminds her sister.

  “Ugh,” Elle groans and rolls her eyes.

  “Anyway,” I interrupt the kids. “Back to the plan. Are we good with it?”

  “Yes, but Noah can’t leave tomorrow because they have to practice all week, which is stupid but needed. But I’ll be there in the morning.”

  “Not that I’m complaining, but why are we all traveling together now?” Quinn asks.

  I sigh and form what I want to say in my head. “Your mom and I have a surprise for you, and we want to give it to you all at the same time.”

  “Well, I’ll be there,” Elle says. “Maybe I’ll just drive to the house tonight.”

  “No!” I blanch, much to Elle’s surprise. “It’s just, you know . . .” I let my sentence trail off and watch the faces of my children morph into disgust. I can’t help but laugh.

  “Dad, that is so gross. I don’t want to hear about you and Mom.” Quinn shudders.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re all adults. Get over it.” We finalize the details for the morning and hang up. My next call is to Liam, who graciously picks up on the second ring.

  “What’s up?” he says.

  “I thought I’d check and see what time you have the plane booked for?”

  “We’re not using it. Figured we’d leave it to for you and JD.”

  “Awesome, perfect. Katelyn and I have a surprise for you guys tomorrow.”

  Liam laughs. “Oh man, I don’t even want to guess. Do you need me to pick you up at the airport?”

  “Nah, I’ll rent something when I hang up with you.”

  “Sounds good. I’m bringing my guitar. We can jam. There’s a bunch of pubs in the area. I figure we can do a gig or two.”

  “I’m game. Okay, I gotta call JD and see what his plan is.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Liam says. “JD and Jenna are already there. They went a day early because he went overboard on snow gear and couldn’t wait to test it out.”

  �
�Typical.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Liam and I hang up, and my next call is to the hanger to get everything set up for tomorrow. After this, I call the hotel and book the necessary rooms for the kids. The last thing I want is for them to have to pay for their rooms since they’re accommodating their mother and me in our little request.

  By the time I have everything set, take-out dinner is sitting on the table, and Katelyn is holding the little guy in one arm and eating with her free hand. I go to her, kiss her forehead, and then lean down and press my lips to the baby. I inhale deeply and take in his baby scent.

  “Are we all set for tomorrow?”

  “We are. Nola is the only extra flying with us. Noah has practice, and Ben is going to his mom’s.”

  Katelyn looks at me, and her mouth drops open slightly. “Ben is going to his mom’s?”

  I shrug. I find it odd as well, but it’s not my place to say anything. “I guess.”

  “He didn’t come here for Thanksgiving, either.”

  “He doesn’t have to spend every holiday with us,” I point out.

  “Since when?” Katelyn counters. “When we lived in Beaumont, he was at our house for everything. I just find it odd that he’s suddenly going to his mom’s.”

  “Well, I’m sure he has a good reason.” I set my hand on top of hers and squeeze it. “Let’s eat, and not worry about why Ben has decided to spend Christmas with his mother and get packed. With this little guy, we have a lot of extras to take with us, and I don’t want to be in a strange town, not knowing where things are if he needs something.”

  “You’re right.” Katelyn smiles and goes back to eating. I make sure her drink is full and find myself begging to hold the baby while I can because once his sisters, aunts, and cousins get a hold of him, I likely won’t get to hold him again until the new year.

  10

  Katelyn