by Aria Grace
“I’m a professor, not a counselor,” I argued. And it was true. I had maybe one undergraduate counseling course under my belt, and I wasn’t sure it would be considered as such since it was technically a history class.
“We didn’t ask you to be a counselor. Didn’t you hear a word I said?” Marge squared her shoulders and gave me her infamous look, the one that meant she was walking away victorious if it killed her. Gotta love Marge.
“I heard every last one and what you are offering is teaching, sure, but teaching in a capacity that would amount to counseling, and that’s not my training.” I knew this firsthand from the seminars I’d been doing. The omegas looked to me as more than just a teacher. I suspected strongly that a good chunk of the reason why had more to do with me being an omega than the work I did, but the result was the same. They wanted someone to listen and advise, and those were things I was wholly unqualified to do.
“If needed, we have plenty of counselors on staff as well as a few who volunteer regularly.” She held the paper out again, and I grabbed it, seeing that it was no longer optional. Not that it ever was. “What we need is your expertise.”
Expertise was an overstatement. I was well-versed in the area of omega studies, and what they had wanted me to do included that but added on life skills and a sprinkle of career counseling. Not to mention letting the omegas I taught bend my ear and ask for advice as needed. Yes, I was educated but nowhere near an expert.
“I’m committed to teaching at the university until the end of the year.” Which, on some levels, was good. It meant I would be there an entire semester after the incident, showing omegas they can hold their heads high no matter what. So many omegas had been taught to hide any abuse they might face, and if they couldn’t handle it—walk away. That made for a weaker society, and if I could garner some good from the situation, I was all for it.
On other levels, however, it was awful. All I wanted to do was go home and grow my beautiful child without the stress of full-time work. Even without Coop’s new job, I had enough saved to make that possible. I also wanted to get away from the provost, whom I would need to deal with sooner rather than later. He had asked me to put aside my morals because of my standing in society.
“And after what happened, no one would blame you for leaving early.”
Except I would. Leaving because I was a victim made me one all over again. “Nor would they learn how important it is to not run away from the bad just because it is easier.” Because in the end, I was there for the students—alpha, beta, and omega alike. There was a lesson in this for all of them, and if only one learned said lesson, that made it worth it.
“You and your principles,” she scoffed, taking a seat and pointing to the one next to her in invitation.
“Are why you love me.” I finished her sentence for her.
“True enough.” She leaned back into her seat, closing her eyes briefly before conceding. “The offer is open. If you want to start in the summer, you can.”
“That’s not the only reason it might not be the best idea.” Coop and I hadn’t discussed who we would and wouldn’t tell about the baby and when. I assumed family dinner, hopefully this time including his brother, would be the time we told his family. Other than that, for all I knew, he wanted to wait until the first trimester ended. But it felt like a need-to-know topic, so I was ready to tell Marge.
“You mean because of the baby?” She turned in her chair slightly to give me a warm smile. Of course she knew.
“Coop told you?” I was fairly sure he hadn’t, but if he had, I had no issue with it.
“Not with his words, but he kept looking at your belly and smiling.”
He so very much did that. It gave me such a warm squishy feeling each and every time he did it, too. Like we were the most precious things to him.
“He’s a little excited, huh?” She tapped her nose, her way of saying she was being nosey but didn’t give a flying fuck so move on to the telling of all things.
“More than. He’s over the moon. He still regrets missing out on things when I was pregnant with Sylvia.” As did I, but there was nothing either of us could do about that now, or back then for that matter. It was what it was, and all we could do was focus on going forward.
“That was neither of your faults.” Her hand settled on my shoulder to give me comfort.
“True enough.” I patted her hand. “That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No, I imagine not.” She glanced at the clock before standing up and grabbing a file off her desk. “You have a keeper.”
Yes. Yes, he was. Coop was far more than a keeper.
“This I know.” I didn’t need to elaborate by telling Marge all the things that made him special. She could tell from the way he looked at me and the way I looked at him. I was a lucky, lucky man. I could only pray that my luck would continue.
“You look worried.” Darn Marge and all her insightfulness and compassion. No hiding anything from her.
“It’s just this baby was supposed to not even really be possible, and then to think of what might have happened before I even knew—”
Marge just shook her head at me with her best what am I going to do with you look on her face.
“You know me. I worry.” And when I was pregnant, that worry grew exponentially.
“Yes. That is an accurate description, but in this case, there is no need to. You had a healthy pregnancy less than a year ago. Your body is ready for this.” She spoke with such confidence it was hard not to believe her even if her opinion was based on nothing close to medically sound conjecture.
“As I recall, the first time you met Sylvia, I was being rolled out of recovery after an emergency C-section.”
My labor had been hell. Over twenty-four hours and without an epidural, thanks to an inept anesthesiologist who couldn’t get it in three tries and was asked less than politely by my doula to get the fuck out of the room if they wanted to live another day. When the doctor decided Sylvia needed to get out faster than was happening, a new—much better—anesthesiologist was on, getting my spinal done on the first try. Not that it made up for the full day of agony, but it was better than general anesthesia in that I was able to hear my baby girl’s first cry.
“Which resulted in a perfect baby.” Marge glanced at the clock again. I was keeping her from something. ”And this time, it won’t be an emergency, right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even have my own doctor yet. The only reason I even know is because the ER did a test. I’m okay going straight for the C-section this time, though. Labor before cesarean is no picnic.” From all I had read online, repeat C-sections were the norm. But according to internet resources, I’d just had a stomach bug a while back and that turned out wrong, so...
“I imagine not. Listen, I have to go.”
I gave her a nod as I stood up, grabbing my satchel.
“Promise you will discuss this with Coop. We can work around babies, current jobs, and even lack of counseling degrees.” She rolled her eyes at the last part. Gotta love Marge.
“Har. Har. I promise to talk to Coop.” I made my way to the closed door. “When do you need to know?”
“Preferably, sooner rather than later. It’s a grant-funded position, so we need to update the grant source and all that jazz.” The phone on her desk began to ring, but instead of answering it like a normal person, Marge picked it up and snapped at it instead. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Night, Marge. And thanks. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” I gave her a quick hug before reaching for the door knob.
“Because I am amazing.” She bowed before placing her hand over mine. “But seriously, this is being offered to you because of all the omegas asking for more time with you. You make a difference in their lives even in one seminar a week. Imagine what you could do working full or even part time here on a regular basis. Talk to you soon.” She let go of my hand so I could open the door and head out to the hallway. I was halfway down t
he hall before she called to me, “Maybe we can do lunch.”
I gave her a thumbs-up and headed to my car. Coop and Sylvia were waiting for me, and I could think of no place I’d rather be than with them.
20
Coop
Family dinner had always been an important time for me to get together with Mama and Killian to catch up and stay connected. Adding Marcus to the family was an easy transition because he made my brother happy in a way no one ever had before. But until I started bringing Ash to dinner, I didn’t fully understand how important these nights were. And how desperately I wanted Ash to feel as comfortable and welcomed within the family as Marcus was.
Things with Ash and Killian initially got off on the wrong foot, but Marcus had been working his magic on my brother, and after witnessing what almost happened with Charlie, Killian had a completely different attitude toward Ash. At least, I hoped that was still the case.
Sylvia was in my arms when we walked through the front door to the main house on the property. Of course, Mama didn’t let her stay there long. She stepped right up to me and whisked Sylvia away to the nursery where Ez was playing, so Sylvia could spend some time with her cousin. Ash followed close behind me as we walked through the large home to the kitchen where Killian and Marcus were finishing up with dinner. Usually Mama had pots and pans on the stove and in the oven by the time we arrived and a basket of rolls and a large salad ready to serve. But something was different with the kitchen.
I looked at the electric pots lined up along the counter curiously. “Did Mama decide to make dinner in a crockpot tonight?” I asked Killian while peeking over one of the containers to see what was inside.
Marcus gasped and swatted at me to back away. “These are not crockpots, and I will not have you disparage them by using that word in their presence.”
Ash chuckled beside me, but I had no idea what was so funny. “What is it? A rice maker?”
Marcus’s jaw dropped and he looked at Killian. “What is with you Daye boys? How do you not know an Instant Pot when you see one?”
“Instant Pot?” I shrugged. “That sounds like a cup of dehydrated ramen. You’re making us noodle soup?”
Killian had to physically restrain Marcus from coming at me with his wooden spoon. “I am making a gourmet duck a' l'orange.”
I turned to Killian in shock. “Mama is letting him cook? Family night is her night to spoil us with food.”
Killian just grinned. “She has grandbabies to play with now. She was more than happy to hand over the wooden spoon.”
“And I’m not afraid to use this!” Marcus threatened, holding up the spoon and waving in my direction. “You just wait until you taste the masterpieces that come out of these babies.”
Killian rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yes, babe. We know it’ll be delicious. No need to harm anyone. Coop has always been a little slower than the rest of us...”
I smacked my brother’s arm then danced of his reach so he couldn’t retaliate.
Killian stepped past me and went to the fridge. “You guys want a beer?”
“Sure, I’ll take one.” I grabbed the bottle he extended toward me and waited for Ash to respond.
“Water is fine for me, thanks.”
Killian’s eyes narrowed as he looked Ash up and down from head to toe. Then he reached back into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “Water, huh?”
Well, so much for our big announcement. Even though he didn’t say anything, I knew right then that Kilian knew our secret. And a side glance at Marcus’s wide grin confirmed he had a pretty good idea too, but neither man spoiled our moment by asking us out right. I glanced back at the cooking pots Marcus was fussing over. With the lids off, the kitchen quickly filled with delicious aromas.
“Something smells really good.”
Marcus nodded without looking up from what he was doing. “I promise, you’ll like it.”
Killian cleared his throat and took a step forward so he was standing in front of me and Ash. “So, I never officially apologized, but I want you to know that I’m sorry about the way I behaved when we first met.” He looked right at Ash, making it clear who he was speaking to. “I didn’t give you a fair shot, and I made presumptions that I shouldn’t have.”
“I understand,” Ash said, letting him off the hook. “And I want to thank you for helping me last week.”
Killian patted Ash’s shoulder before taking a step back toward Marcus. “You’re family now and we take care of our own. It took me a minute to accept that, but it’s clear how much you care for my brother, and that’s all I want for him.”
Killian and I weren’t usually affectionate, but it meant a lot to me that he was apologizing on his own, so I stepped up to him and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
Killian’s arms tightened around me before I pulled away. “You deserve a family of your own. I’m glad you have that now,” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded and pulled away, clearing my throat of the emotion settling there. Mama walked in a moment later, a whirlwind of energy, as usual. “Just because my grandbabies are too tuckered out to eat doesn’t mean I am. Where is this gourmet delight I was promised?”
We all popped into helping mode, grabbing platters and dishes so we could sit down to eat.
Marcus’s strange hot pot dinner was delicious. I don’t know how he got the meat so moist and the rice and vegetables to just the right consistency, but everything tasted great. We fell into easy conversation about the kids and work, and when I mentioned my job offer, everyone was supportive of me leaving school early so I could support my family. Before dessert was served, I wiped my mouth with my napkin then replaced it on my lap and cleared my throat.
“And speaking of family…” Ash’s hand landed on my thigh as his eyes connected with mine. A small remnant of the nerves he felt when we arrived still shone in his eyes. But more than that, I saw excitement as he gave me a slight nod. “Ash and I want you all to be the first to know that we’re expecting again.”
Mama squealed in glee, and I caught her wiping a tear from her cheek. “I knew it. I wasn’t sure if you knew it, so I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but I could just tell.”
Ash’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned against my side.
“I’m so happy for you both.” Mama got up from the table and came around to give us each a big hug, telling us how proud she was and how excited she felt to have another grandbaby coming into her life. “One she could spoil from the womb,” she said as she gave Ash’s flat belly a light tap.
It was silly, but I knew from Marcus’s pregnancy that Mama wasn’t exaggerating. She loved thrift stores and managed to find the coolest vintage nursery decorations and all the picture books you could imagine.
I turned to Killian to get his reaction and was pleased to see a smile on his face. “I’m proud of you, Coop.” He placed his big hand on my shoulder and gave me a rough squeeze. “You’re gonna be a great dad...again.”
And as if on cue, Sylvia’s soft cry came through the baby monitor. Ash pushed away from the table and stood up “Someone must be jealous that we’ve got full bellies. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As I watched Ash rush to our daughter, I realized how fulfilled my life had become in such a short period of time. Nothing could have prepared me for the joy I felt. Not only was Mama doing great and Killian was happier than he’d ever been, but Ash and Sylvia were mine forever, and the love in my heart just kept expanding to make room for more. It would be a long eight months until I got to meet my new baby, but I planned to appreciate every minute of it.
21
Ash
Finals were officially wrapping up, and I couldn’t have been happier. Working while going through the first trimester exhaustion was challenging on a good day, but doing so when I had the provost up my ass for his craptastic idea of a course and dealing with the upcoming trial only added to my lack of energy.
I packed the final sect
ion of finals into my bag. Ideally, I’d have had them all done before I walked out of my office so I could kiss the semester officially goodbye, but I had places to go. And by places, I meant our baby’s first official doctor visit. For whatever reason, the OB wouldn’t see anyone until they were at least twelve weeks along. They considered the nurse calling you and asking you to take vitamins and not drink or smoke as being good enough. And it probably was, but hearing the heartbeat was one of the most reassuring sounds in the world, and when I was pregnant with Sylvia, they had me coming in all the time due to my age. Thanks to those visits, I was hearing the soothing ba-dumps at least a handful of times by this stage of my pregnancy.
“You look nervous.” Coop’s voice caught me by surprise.
“You startled me.” I walked into his waiting arms after handing him my satchel which he felt obligated to carry ever since finding out about the baby.
“I didn’t mean to.” He kissed the top of my head, and I burrowed into his arms a bit deeper. “Are you ready?”
“I am.” Or as ready as I would be. This whole pregnancy thing caught me off guard—again—and this time, I had the extra worry of knowing my last pregnancy didn’t end as beautifully as I would’ve hoped.
“Want to tell me why you look so nervous?” Coop asked as he wrapped his arm around my side, leading me out of my office and toward the car.
“No, but I will.” I leaned my head into him as we walked. It felt safe like that. “It’s just that since the ER, I haven’t heard the heartbeat, and I’m worried.”
More than worried. I was a basket case and for no good reason whatsoever. The doctor assured us everything was fine. Not that my anxiety listened, not even a tiny bit.
“Our baby is perfect.” Coop kissed my head as we made our way outside. “I feel it.” I allowed his reassurance and scent to wash over me.
“From your lips...” I mumbled as we reached the car.