“Grab him!” I yell, skidding to a stop in the entryway, just as Brody launches Henry in the air.
“Daddy, Daddy. Mommy chase me!” Henry exclaims, clapping his chubby little hands with so much excitement.
Like I said, ornery!
Brody pretends to swipe Henry’s nose just before he crouches down, helping hold our son hostage between us so that I can finally put clothes on him.
“He could be the poster child for a nudist colony.” I mumble, out of breath from the chase.
“You can’t be running around like that, Little Wolf. I’d rather he be naked than risk you falling over one of his toys.”
“I’m pregnant, Brody, that doesn’t make me a fall risk.”
Brody just points behind me to the pile of Legos that I had to jump over to meet him at the door. He tilts his head to the side with his panty-melting smile. The same smile that is the exact reason why I’ve spent the better part of the time we’ve been back together, knocked up.
“I’m perfectly capable of chasing a two-year-old around the house without risking death.”
“Remington.” He chastises.
After missing out on so much with Oaklynn, only being able to relive it through the home videos that Liz made, Brody has taken a, dare I say, overbearing approach to fatherhood throughout my pregnancy with Henry, and now with little peanut number three.
Which by the way, no matter how much he begs, if we have another boy we are not naming him Dustin Ackley Cummings. Much to his and Oaklynn’s dismay.
Brody clears his throat, waiting for me to promise him I’ll be more careful. He should know by now that making promises to behave when his son, who is just a cuter version of Donnie from The Wild Thornberry’s, is damn near impossible.
“I hear you, I’m electing to ignore you.”
Brody growls in the back of his throat, making his disapproval clear. Just as I finish buttoning up Henry’s pants, Brody lunges, sweeping me in his arms and calling for the kids to come and tickle me until I concede.
Bastard!
He only ever wins because the strength of my bladder isn’t what it used to be. But he takes the win as if he earned it, a cocky smirk taking over his obnoxiously perfect and beautiful face.
He nuzzles my neck as if I’m truly the wolf he claims me to be, breathing me in.
“You know all I want is to make sure you’re safe, right? You and Little Dustin.”
“For the love of baseball, we are not naming the baby Dustin!”
Oaklynn takes my rebellion as an opportunity to try and tickle me into submission. My sides begin to hurt from laughing so much, my bladder starts begging me to stop the torture, and my son, the wild little thing that he, just sits off to the site clapping his hands, egging on his father and big sister.
“We’re going to be late!” I exclaim, hoping to redirect their energies to the reason I was in such a rush to get Henry dressed in the first place.
Brody picks me up, carrying my big pregnant butt into the kitchen, sitting me on top of the counter as if I weigh no more than a grape.
“Sit here while I gather the rest of the stuff and then we’ll be on our way.”
He captures my lips with his, stealing my breath away, reminding me again and again just how lucky I am to be his wife.
“Eewwww.” Oaklynn cries out, slapping her hands over her eyes to block out the sight of her parents locking lips. “So gross!”
“Yeah, gwoss.” Henry agrees, nodding his head so hard that he looks like a bobblehead toy in the dashboard of a high-speed chase.
Brody just laughs, kissing me once more to intentionally gross the kids out.
“When we get home tonight, you’re mine. You hear me?” He whispers darkly, low enough for only me to hear.
“Yes, Sir.” I tease, already looking forward to getting back home even though we haven’t even left yet.
My response has him adjusting himself in his jeans before the kids can see. Once he’s a little more composed, he moves with a quickness, getting the kids in their jackets and putting the snack bag together before we make our way to the front door to head out for tonight’s big game.
In the last two years, Brody has dedicated as much time as he could get away from the shop to helping me fulfill my bucket list.
It all started one day after Oaklynn and I got inside from playing in the rain and I told Brody about my bucket list, still wanting to find an opportunity to sleep in the rain. He promised me we could do it that night, but only after I told him why I loved the rain so much. Apparently it was something about me that was always puzzling but never got around to asking.
I told him how it was raining the day Ruger rescued me from the basement. How it started raining as soon as I left the beach the day I met Brody and most of the milestone moments we experienced throughout our relationship. It rained the day Oaklynn was born too. Over the years, I linked rain to an emotional cleansing. Washing out all of the bad so that I could find the good.
He pulled the mattress off of our bed almost immediately and when Oaklynn went down for a nap, we took a nap outside in the warm end of summer rain together.
From that moment on, from library cards, to buying a car in my own name, to the matching ‘I’ll Follow You Down’ tattoos on our arms, he’s made sure to tick off everything on my list except one thing.
Going to a baseball game.
The list has grown over the last few years, adding on things that I want to do with either us as a family, or just me and Brody. But one thing that we were holding out for, has been this. Not just any baseball game. A Tar Heels Baseball game.
With the whole family in matching Caroline blue jerseys, we make our way out to my SUV, my belly making it difficult to climb up into Brody’s truck, and make our way to the field where the rest of the DRAB family will be waiting for us.
“Will Emery and Breelle be there?” Oaklynn calls from the backseat, excited to see her cousins even though they were just together this morning.
“Of course, Hummingbird. They’ll need you to help teach them the love of the game though.” Brody says, locking eyes with her in the rearview mirror.
“We bleed blue!” Oaklynn shouts, her little fist thrown in the air.
For what feels like the next hour, Brody and the kids go back and forth screaming ‘Tar’ ‘Heels’ and singing baseball songs until I have to pull over for a bathroom break.
I sneak into the gas station, and pull out my cell phone, clicking on Sonya’s name. She picks up on the third ring, excitement in her voice.
“Are you almost here?”
“Just about. Is the plan in motion?”
“Of course! Talon and I got here like two hours ago to make sure. Everything’s ready to go, we’re just waiting on you guys now.”
“You’re the best, Sons. See you in about fifteen minutes.”
Although I don’t live my life on the run anymore, sometimes stealth phone calls are a necessity.
Fifteen minutes on the dot later, we’re walking into the stadium with our friends and family, taking our seats right behind home plate. Oaklynn can barely contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating out of her seat as she waits for the players to take the field.
When the team runs out wearing pink jerseys, I notice the looks of confusion on everyone’s faces except mine, Talon, and Sonya’s.
The announcer’s voice booms through the stadium as mine and Brody’s faces light up the jumbotron. Brody, who’s still trying to figure out why the team is in pink jerseys, hasn’t noticed yet.
“Ladies and gentleman, will a Mr. and Mrs. Brody Cummings please make their way to the pitcher’s mound?”
Brody looks at me with confusion coloring his face, unsure of what the hell is going on.
“You’re taking the first pitch, babe.” I tell him, smiling from ear to ear.
My husband, the big and burly man, the protector of our entire group, takes my hand wit
h a childlike excitement that I’ve never seen on him before. For the first time in I don’t even know how long, he’s completely speechless as we make our way onto the field.
He shakes hands with all of the team members on his way to the pitcher’s mound. You could probably hear Oaklynn’s little voice screaming ‘That’s my Daddy!’ all the way in the parking lot.
The coach joins us on the mound, explaining to Brody that things will be a little different for today’s pitch. His eyes damn near bug out of his face when he’s told that one of the players will actually be taking a swing instead of him just throwing to a catcher.
He’s too shocked to even question it, as he digs his foot in the dirt, getting a comfortable stance as I wait behind him. With his attention so focused on the task at hand, he doesn’t even realize that a player comes up to me and hands me a special pink jersey for me to put on over my Carolina blue one.
When the batter steps to home plate, signaling for Brody to make the pitch, I hold my breath, not wanting to even risk blinking and miss a moment of what’s to come.
Brody’s pitch is perfect, allowing the batter to connect with the ball with a deafening smack as the ball explodes, showering home plate, the batter, and the catcher in pink dust.
Brody realizes what’s happening the moment the crowd roars to life all around us. He turns to me, scoops me in his arm, and only just then realizes that all of the pink jerseys the team and I are wearing say ‘It’s A Girl’ on the back, instead of the player’s last names.
“It’s a girl!” He screams, holding me close to his chest as he jumps up and down all over the field. “We’re having another girl!”
He inhales a deep breath before slamming his mouth down on mine, showing all of America just how I got pregnant in the first place.
“Mine to love, mine to protect.” He says before placing a kiss on my growing belly, promising to love this child as fiercely as he loves me, Oaklynn, and little Henry.
Brody carries me off of the field like a newlywed bride, the entire stadium still cheering around us. Once we get back to our seats, he still doesn’t put me down or let me take my own seat. Instead, he keeps me cradled in his arms, holding me throughout the entire game, one hand placed firmly across my belly.
As my husband cradles me in his arms and the shining sun glints off of the wedding ring his grandma Rosalind wore before me, I sigh with happiness. With contentment.
My bucket list is completed, and there’s nothing else that I can imagine wanting out of life. I have it all. My monsters are dead or defeated. I’m lucky enough to get to be a stay-at-home mom to our feral children, and my husband and I will soon be welcoming our third, and final child, into the world.
Yes, final. Because Brody wanted as many kids as his parents had so that our kids would get to grow up with the same bond and love he had at home. The same bond that he later found with the DRAB boys that are all currently surrounding us in the bleachers with their spouses and children.
Lizzy’s hand sneaks around my shoulders from her spot in the stands directly above mine.
“So what are you gonna name her?” She asks, happiness for me and Brody coloring her cheeks as she smiles.
I look up at my loving husband, seeing my own happiness reflected back at me when he looks at me.
When we first found out we were pregnant with Henry, we had decided on both a girl and boy name while we waited to find out the gender. I let Brody have free reign for the most part, knowing how excited he was to get to be a part of it all this time around.
Back then we were both in sync on the names. It only changed this time around because he and Oaklynn are baseball obsessed. Whereas I just like the game, those two pump it in their veins.
“You wanna tell her?” I ask, laughing inside because the girl's name was actually his idea, not mine.
Brody kisses my forehead, one hand rubbing circles on my back while the other rubs my stomach.
“Elizabeth Danielle.” He tells her, completely proud of his decision. “Hummingbird thinks we should call her Lizzy for short. What do you think?”
Liz starts crying, at a total loss for words when she realizes that we’ve now decided to name two of our children after her and her father.
What feels like forever ago, Brody didn’t even want her around Oaklynn, now he’s wanting to name our second daughter after her. It’s kind of freaking beautiful if you ask me.
Liz’s tears of happiness keep her from being able to utter a single word so she instead just bobs her head up and down in agreement, obviously honored by the idea and approving of it without hesitation.
My eyes stay locked on my best friends’ as she clutches on to me a little tighter. Our group of friends and family shout and cheer as the Tar Heels get their first home run of the night. But Liz and I stay locked in a little bubble, knowing that all of our hopes and dreams have finally come true.
She finally gets to be in a job where she’s encouraged to go the extra mile to help abuse survivors, partnering with Max and Bree’s therapist in a local women’s shelter.
And me? I have everything I’ve ever wanted. The man of my dreams. Strong, healthy, and safe children. A family. A place to belong. But most of all… I have my freedom.
And it’s even better than I could have imagined.
The end!
Although this is the end of the Survivor Series, it’s not the end of the Jameson family. Stay tuned for updates on the next series where you get to know Remi’s brothers. Love them or hate them, they’re as potent as the whiskey their last name describes.
Absolution Playlist:
Get Some by Chevelle
Glycerine by Bush
When Legends Rise by Godsmack
I Think I’m Okay by Machine Gun Kelly
Let Me Go by Machine Gun Kelly
On Some Emo Shit by Blink-182
Change (In The House of Flies) by Deftones
All We Are by Matt Nathanson
I Can’t Make You Love Me by Bon Iver
Empty Space by James Arthur
Great Romances of the 20th Century by Taking Back Sunday
Work Song by Hozier
I Miss You by Adele
My Own Worst Enemy by Lit
Light You Up by Blue October
Remember the Name by Fort Minor
Helium by Sia
My Immortal by Evanescence
Mind Reader by A Day to Remember
I’ll Follow You by Shinedown
Kill For You by 3 Pill Morning
Absolution Page 39