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Loving and living a beautiful life together.
Tiller twists the black ring on his finger with his thumb, glaring at the titanium wedding band. Or maybe he’s glaring at the newborn baby in his arms who refuses to sleep unless someone is holding her. I’ll get to that later. The ring is what’s important here. Dude got married over the summer. Surprised? I think if you look at him now, he is too. But, Amberly wanted to get married and believe it or not, Tiller would do anything for the lilac-haired girl who stole his heart at five. That’s love. It’s doing what you never thought you would to make the girl happy.
What is it for me?
It’s sacrifice. It’s giving up certain races because they fall on my nieces’ birthdays. It’s building a house next door to my brothers because we can’t live under the same roof any longer, but not wanting to leave them entirely. It’s your girl crying on the bathroom floor and whispering, “I lost the baby.” It’s seeing an ultrasound and no beating heart. It’s her praying for another, and finally being pregnant again. It’s I love you and what do we do now? It’s a private intimate wedding off the Amalfi Coast. It’s a scary premature delivery in a foreign country with nobody who speaks English. It’s I’ve got you, honey, just breathe. It’s a beautiful baby girl who changes everything about your life the moment she takes her first breath.
That’s love.
My daughter, Lennox Isle Sawyer, came into the world on December third last year in Lesotho South Africa while I was racing the Roof of Africa. Leading the entire race, I dropped out at the last hour of the event when Ophelia went into premature labor. It was the first time I didn’t finish that race, but the trophy was so much better than winning.
The first hour of Lennox’s life was spent in my arms where I fell madly in love with my daughter. After an emergency C-section where I nearly lost her, Ophelia got really sick after her birth and had to be flown back to the states for a blood transfusion. I never left her side, even for one night. Eventually she recovered and we returned to California with Lennox. Two weeks later, we started building a house a mile away from the mansion. Eventually, Shade and Tiller moved too, but we all live within five miles of each other and bought up all the land around our properties. There’s a brand-new motocross track connecting our properties.
Shade comes out of the house, sitting beside Tiller and me watching the girls play. Yep. None of us have had boys. Even Tiller’s newest addition, the one he’s glaring at in his arms, Wyatt Isabella, little headstrong girl.
“Is she finally asleep?” Shade asks, sitting next to Tiller in a lounge chair, a beer in his hand.
Tiller scowls at Shade, and then the beer in his hand. Believe it or not, he’s still sober. And hating every minute of it. “For now.” She lies silently on his chest as he rubs her back lightly, her Christmas pajamas reading “Shitter’s Full” on the butt. “Cute little shit thinks 3:00 a.m. is party time.”
“So, not unlike you?” I smile and lift my eyes to Lennox burying her legs in the sand next to Ophelia.
Tiller grumbles something, probably a fuck off, but my attention is on my wife. Ophelia… God, she’s an amazing mother. Inherently good at it. Like she was born to nurture and protect Lennox. It’s beautiful to watch.
Willa is the next to come outside, an apron tied around her waist, frowning. “Scarlet is trying to cook a turkey. Roan, we need you if we want to actually eat this food.”
“Why do you think we eat takeout most nights?” Shade adds, amused.
Laughing, I rise from my chair and follow her inside. Ricky and Willa live at the mansion now and we still all gather here for the holidays. A massive twenty-foot Christmas tree sits in front of the vast windows overlooking the backyard. The same wall Tiller ripped a hole in because he thought a fish tank would be cool, but never finished the project. The same wall I threw a chair through when I found out Ophelia was going to marry another man.
This house holds thousands of memories for us, some good, some bad, but I’m glad it’s still here.
In the kitchen, Scarlet’s trying hard but knows nothing about cooking. She holds up the neck of the turkey. “What the hell is this?”
I smile at Willa, and then Scarlet. “That’s the turkey’s cock.”
“Oh my God!” She drops it on the floor. “No way! That’s not his dick, is it?”
Tallulah picks it up, her wild curls all over the place. Pushing them from her face, she smiles. “Dick is yucky.”
Scarlet kneels down and takes it from her. “You remember that forever, Lula. Dicks are gross. So gross!”
“That’s not what I heard you saying the other night to Shade,” Tiller remarks, handing a sleeping Wyatt over to Amberly. Poor Amberly, she looks as exhausted as Tiller. Or maybe she’s drunk. I’m not entirely sure.
Scarlet at least waits for him to not have a baby in his arms before she smacks Tiller across the face with the turkey neck. “Shut up.”
Ophelia makes her way inside, Lennox on her hip. Do you see that dark haired little girl in my wife’s arms? She has me wrapped around her fucking finger. Just like her mother.
Lennox reaches for me, her baby blue eyes on mine. “Daddy,” she says, slapping my cheek. Apparently she’s learning from Berlin.
It’s during dinner where shit really gets interesting. Literally. Camden shows up. He just turned eighteen, cocky as fuck, a professional motocross racer and leading the SoCal MX points. It’s like we blinked and he’s suddenly a man and shaving. That’s not the most interesting part about Camden arriving at the house. Not only is he as tall as me, but his comebacks have also improved immensely. Just wait.
We’re sitting at the table and Camden returns to the room after getting a drink. Pretty sure it’s not just Pepsi in that cup, but River is on his back. Giggling.
Tiller takes one look at the way River is regarding him and points accusingly at Camden. “I don’t fucking think so,” he snaps, smacking his hand on the table, glasses and plates rattling. “Riv, get off him.”
She gets down, rolling her eyes and takes off in the other room. “Dad, you’re weird.”
Camden grins and slides effortlessly into the chair across from Tiller. Slowly, he takes a drink, then sets it on the table. Craning his neck forward, he looks over at River in the other room. “Ah, come on, Wild Cat.” Leaning back, he winks at Tiller. “You’re the virgin stealer, not me.”