“Is this okay?” Olga asks me.
Pierce looks at the sheriff. “The license is for the state of Colorado. We’re happy to help you, but we want to make sure you are following protocol and won’t get yourself or us in trouble.”
He smiles. “I cleared it with Child Welfare. As long as she has a current license, we are covered. They are finding a more permanent foster home for him, and as I said, they’ll be here on Monday to pick him up.”
The sheriff looks at Hayes and Blaire and says, “If you could just examine him and make sure he’s healthy. There are a few forms we need to fill out and send to welfare tomorrow morning.”
Blaire takes the baby, and I don’t lose track of him while they check him. He’s so quiet and seems a little lost. When they are done, I notice Pierce is on the phone barking instructions.
“Yes, those boxes. 0-6BB. I need you to take them to the nursery. The bedding, the crib, and if you can find blankets, send Vance to the shelter with them. Since we don’t have a car seat, we’re walking with him.” He nods, shakes his head, and rolls his eyes. “Yes Henry, I’ll explain more when I get home. Just start building the crib.”
I stare at the sleeping baby and wonder if this is a little miracle or just a bittersweet taste of what we will have some day. Stay positive. The invitro is just next week.
Chapter Forty-Two
Pierce
The sheriff promises he’ll come to pick up the baby on Monday. I want to beg him to leave him with us for eighteen years. Leyla is going to get attached. Once Hayes and Blaire confirm he’s healthy and Vance arrives with a thicker blanket, Leyla and I walk to the house. She’s quiet, and I’m afraid to say the wrong word.
“We need to buy formula. I don’t have any,” she mumbles. “I’m sure the grocery store in Happy Springs has that and baby bottles. We could drive to Portland for more supplies and a car seat.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“No, you think this is a bad idea,” she mutters.
“I do?”
“Yes, you’re the logical one. This is the part where you need to remind me that I have a veterinary clinic that just opened and needs my attention. They’re taking him away on Monday. We’re going to the clinic to get inseminated too,” she sighs. “I shouldn’t be buying a car seat.”
“You want it straight?”
She nods.
“We could apply to adopt him,” I explain. “It’s going to be a challenge, and we can’t stop them from taking him away next week. The waiting period is going to be long, and there are many ahead of us. It’s not impossible, and if the foster parents who get him this upcoming week are on a waiting list to adopt, they might get to keep him.”
Leyla looks at the baby and smiles at him. “I can do this. Love him for a week and let him go.”
“You want to apply?”
She shakes her head. “No. There are other people already waiting for him. A couple that’s been anxious and ready for him.”
“We’re not?” I ask.
Her eyes turn to look at me, and she smiles. “I hope we’re getting closer, big guy.”
“All I want is for you to be happy and for us to be together,” I tell her.
“Being with you makes me happy,” she assures me. “I can wait a lifetime for a baby as long as you don’t leave me again.”
“Never again,” I promise her.
When we arrive at the house, Sophia is in the foyer, pacing. She grins when she sees us. “I’ve heard a rumor that we have a guest.”
“It’s only for a week,” I emphasize.
“The sheriff will pick him up next Monday,” Leyla reiterates. “We’ll probably be in Portland when he comes by, so you might be the one resending him.”
Sophia claps and smiles. “Let’s soak up on baby goodness, then.”
“You’re going to have to wait for your turn,” I say, guiding Leyla toward the living room. “I’m next.”
“Why bother building the crib when that baby is never going to be in there? Everybody is going to want a turn.” Blaire jokes. Hayes rolls his eyes. “We’ll be right back. We’re going to buy formula and baby bottles.”
“Thank you,” I say, pulling out my wallet.
Hayes shakes his head. “I got this. The boxes are upstairs. The guys are waiting for you to tell them where you want the crib before they start putting it together.”
I turn to look at Leyla, “Do you want it in the nursery or our room, babe?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, staring at the sleepy baby. “We need a rocking chair. Maybe we should move my bed to storage and put the crib in its place. He’ll be closer to us.”
“That’s a great idea,” I agree. “I’ll go upstairs to tell the guys and help them.”
Beacon and Henry are in the middle of the hallway, opening the box. When I pass the nursery, I spot Mills, who is opening the clothing boxes. Vance leans against the wall, tapping his phone.
“We need to move Leyla’s bed out so we can set the crib in there,” I instruct.
“If you take the comforter and sheets off, I’ll start doing that,” Vance volunteers then looks at me. “Congrats on the kid.”
“It’s not ours. We’re just taking care of him for the week,” I announce. “Don’t get too attached.”
“Why not adopt him?” Henry asks, staring at the crib’s instructions and looking at the tools as foreign objects. “I swear my children are going to learn to do stuff by themselves. We’re not hiring people, or they’re going to be useless, just like me.”
Beacon laughs. “Your family spoiled you. The good news is that you’re not hopeless.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re so grounded,” Henry says, scratching the back of his head. “Your grandfather was a famous actor. Your mother is a diva—worse than how my mother was.”
Beacon shrugs. “My grandparents decided to raise me better than they did with my mother. One of his best friends lives in Seattle. They are celebrities too, but pretty grounded people for that matter.”
“Is that why they moved there?” I ask, intrigued.
He nods. “Yeah, they wanted me to grow up in a more normal environment.”
Obviously, the baby of the family has his issues, but he’s pretty grounded despite his fame, parents, and being filthy rich.
“Pierce, can you leave the gossip for later?” Vance yells from the room.
“Go! It’s obvious that his schedule is packed,” Henry says mockingly.
It’s at three o’clock in the morning—while I’m feeding the baby—when I feel complete. Leyla is right beside me, her head leaning against my shoulder. She holds the baby’s little hand.
“I want one,” I whisper, kissing her forehead.
“What made you change your mind?” she asks.
“The reason I didn’t want them in the first place was that I didn’t want anyone else to have to deal with what I did while growing up,” I answer. “I should’ve seen it from a different perspective. Trying not to be my parents, I shied away from feelings. If I had told you more about myself, maybe you would’ve helped me see things from a different light.”
Since Henry and I are getting help to deal with our issues, we have discussed our upbringing in depth. So far, we’ve concluded that it was the adults’ job to handle the situation differently—not ours. Children learn from what they see. Our mothers resented our brothers and their mothers. It doesn’t take a genius to understand why we could barely stand each other. Except, during the weeks we were here in Baker’s Creek, we could get along well enough.
We could’ve had a different childhood if they had allowed us to be a family.
“I wish I had been a better man when you met me,” I confess. “But, I swear to be a better man for you.”
Leyla snuggles closer to me. “Do you know what this reminds me of?”
I shake my head.
“When we brought Daisy home,” she answers. “I know it’s different. She was a puppy, and
this is a baby, but that’s when I fell the hardest for you. You asked for time off because we wanted her to live, even when she wasn’t going to be ours—”
“We had to make sure she’d survive,” I remind her. “Look at our girl. She’s healthy and the most loving pup in the world. You were afraid to name her.”
“What if we lost her?”
“You can’t stop living just because you know there’s an end. Everything comes to an end, and continues somewhere else,” I say out loud and freeze. “Carter said that to me during his last days.”
“I wish I had met him,” she whispers, caressing the baby’s head.
She’s right, this isn’t Daisy, but the situation is similar. Ever since we met, Leyla and I have been afraid of the future. We haven’t enjoyed our lives because of the fear. That has to end. Carter lived his life up until the last moment. He didn’t let anything, or anyone dictate how he lived. If there’s something he’d want us to remember, it’s how he lived.
“We should name him,” I mutter.
“He’s leaving next week,” she reminds me.
“He’s ours for a few days,” I argue. “There’s an end. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give him everything he deserves while he’s with us.”
She smiles, kissing my cheek. “I love you, and you are right. What do you think we should name him? Pierce and Griffin are vetoes.”
“Carter,” I whisper.
It’s not hard to fall into the routine of taking care of Carter. My brothers love the name and agree that fits him perfectly. Beacon and Vance help us more with the other kids since every morning we are more exhausted than the previous one, which is wonderful. Neither Leyla nor I complain about it. We’re making the best of the situation. I capture some pictures of Carter with Leyla. She has a few pictures of me with the baby.
Even if short, we want him to be part of our history.
I try so fucking hard not to fall in love with him, but it’s impossible. Monday is going to be a heartbreak for the entire family. Even my brothers have fallen for baby Carter. Blaire and Sophia fight to carry him. Of course, the one who has dibs is Leyla.
On Sunday there’s a snowstorm that closes the roads. We’re stranded. No one can come in or out. We have to reschedule Leyla’s IVF. They don’t have any appointments available for her until mid-January. The doctor explains that she might have to start the protocol again.
“I can’t go through another wave of injections,” Leyla mumbles after she hangs up the phone.
This day is going to be a fucking disaster, I know it. The state will come for the baby soon. If they can even drive up here. But fuck, Leyla is going to realize that we’re back to square one. I wish I could give her some news about my sample. The doctor’s office hasn’t responded to my calls.
It’s around two o’clock in the afternoon when we receive a call from the sheriff. Child Welfare can’t come to pick up the baby for another week. I hang up, saying, “Thank you,” when I really want to say, “Fuck you.”
“Another week?” Leyla asks. She’s in the rocking chair feeding Carter.
“Are you okay with that?” I ask her, but the question is also for me.
I shouldn’t, but I’ve been thinking of ways to make him ours. We could, if the sheriff helps us. It’s a long shot, but the question ‘what if’ echoes in my head over and over again.
She stares at him and tightens her hold. “We can’t keep him?”
The jarring tone in her voice makes me pull out my phone. I call the sheriff again.
“Yes, Mr. Aldridge.” His voice is annoyed as fuck.
“The baby isn’t thirty days old yet,” I inform him. “If we knew who his parents were, and they gave him to us for adoption, we wouldn’t have to send him to another place.”
Leyla smiles, kissing the top of Carter’s head.
“When the baby was dropped off, we promised that it will be confidential,” he states.
“We understand, but you’ll make this baby’s life a lot easier. He might end up jumping from one house to another until he’s eighteen. There’s no guarantee that he’ll find the perfect home,” I inform him. “My wife and I are already in love with him. It’d be an honor if we could raise him as ours. We’ll do our best to ensure that he’s happy.”
“Let me make a few calls,” he offers after a long silence.
While we wait for the sheriff to call back, I contact Fitz Everhart. He used to be Henry’s personal lawyer. We need someone who can handle the adoption for us since I can’t do it. He agrees to take over.
After I’m done with the calls and I explain our plan to my brothers, things become tense. We’re all anxious because no one wants Carter to leave. Leyla is glued to the baby. If this doesn’t work, I’m not sure what we’re going to do. She’s in love with this little boy.
It isn’t until the next morning when we hear from the sheriff. He arrives at the house with two teenagers. Well, they are eighteen. They are from Happy Springs and attend the University of Oregon.
“My parents don’t know anything about the baby,” the mom says.
“My mother would kill me,” the poor kid says, terrified. “What if she finds out?”
“No one should find out,” the girl presses. “You have to promise that no one will know we’re his parents.”
“We promise to keep the information between us,” Leyla promises. “If you allow it, we’d love to become his parents.”
They agree to sign the adoption consent forms. Fitz is on Facetime, explaining to them what they have to sign and their rights. Both choose not to have an open adoption, but if Carter wants to meet them, we can reach out to them.
“Would you like us to pay for the medical expenses,” I offer.
The guy shakes his head. “We only ask that you raise him like he was yours. Be a good father to him.”
“It’ll be an honor to do it,” I promise.
The sheriff clears his throat and says, “I called Child Welfare and explained that the parents came back for him.”
After they leave, I walk to Leyla and notice she’s crying. “He’s ours,” she sniffs.
I nod and say, “Congratulations.”
“We’re parents,” she mumbles, whispering sweet words to the baby and then handing him to me. “Congratulations, Daddy.”
Taking the baby in my arms, I cradle him. “I promise to love you no matter what.” His little hand touches my cheek, and I fall in love even more with him.
Epilogue
Pierce
Leyla and I don’t want to wait to get married, but we want to do it right. She asks Sophia for help. That woman is one of the most efficient people I know. It’s such a shame that she doesn’t want to step down from being the CEO of Aldry’s Sweets and step up to be my assistant.
In two weeks, she helps Leyla organize our wedding. It’s a crisp Saturday morning when I’m fixing my tuxedo—which matches the one Sophia ordered for Carter. I’m not sure how she pulled this off, but it’s perfect and a little surprise for Leyla. We’re all in Beacon’s house getting ready.
“It feels like the thing I never did when I finished college,” Mills says.
“What is that?” I ask.
“While I went to play hockey, all my friends were off getting married and being in each other’s weddings,” he explains. “This is the third one this year. And don’t forget, Henry and Sophia are doing it all over again once we’re free.”
“Obviously, you are next,” Henry jokes.
Mills glares at him but doesn’t say anything because Arden is with us. Having kids around is a blessing, but it limits our comebacks tragically.
Henry receives a text, looks at us, and says, “They are ready. Let’s go.”
The ceremony is taking place by the new dock. That’s where Leyla and I have spent our time healing and falling in love all over again. Vance built a simple wood arbor. Sophia had it decorated with peach roses, white lilies, peach miniature carnations, and white stock flowers, accent
ed with pitta negra, dusty miller, and green echeveria succulents.
Carter is asleep in my arms, and he looks dashing in his tiny suit. Nyx is heading to the arbor at the same time. Nate, her non-boyfriend, as I refer to him, walks by her side.
“Thank you for coming,” I say when I catch up to them.
“Oh God, he’s adorable,” she says, looking at Carter. “I’m so happy for you guys. This is what you should’ve done years ago. I shouldn’t have agreed to do a half-assed wedding.”
I shrug as if telling her, I fucked up, but I’m fixing my shit.
The explanation is lengthy and belongs to Leyla and me. The regrets were washed away by the storm, and today we’re starting anew.
We all take our places, and when the cello and violin start playing one of Leyla’s favorite pieces—Grace and Beacon offered to play for us—I take a deep breath and look toward Leyla. Emilio, Sophia’s Dad, is walking her down the aisle. When she sees me holding Carter, her eyes brighten, and her smile widens. This is what I live for, her happiness, and erasing all the sour moments that she’s lived—including our past.
“Thank you,” she tells Emilio.
“My pleasure,” he says and gives me a stern look. “I trust you’ll treat her the way she deserves.”
“Have I told you you look beautiful?” I ask, brushing her lips with mine.
“You two look adorable,” she says, her voice is dreamy.
“I hate to break the moment,” Nyx clears her throat. “I don’t want to rush you, but it’s chilly out here. Only you two would organize an outdoor wedding in winter.”
“Better than a parking lot,” I defend myself.
Leyla glares at me and says, “Too soon, Aldridge.”
Nyx begins the wedding, and when the time for the vows comes, I hand Carter to Hayes and grab Leyla’s hands with mine.
“I wish I could promise you that nothing terrible is going to happen, but I can’t control the future. What I do promise is to be your rock when things are crumbling. I’m here to promise you a life of abundance. An abundance of love, support, laughs, passion, and adventure.
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