Page 5 of After this Summer (Seasons in Montana: Summer #11)
BEAU
T he driveway to my parents’ house is already packed with vehicles, except Wren and Merrick’s, and I only know that because Mom sent me to drop off dinner for them already.
My sister’s car accident rocked us all to the core.
We’d never been so close to losing anyone as we had been that night.
Merrick had stayed at her bedside, the businessman from New York having fallen hard and fast for Wren when he came to Wintervale.
And despite having to help his father leave our little slice of heaven, Merrick had become family. I’ll be shocked if they aren’t married by the end of the year.
Still, none of that helped with what I had to do next. Wren is still the only person I’ve talked to about Indie, and having her here for support would have been nice.
Like I conjured her, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
WREN: You can do this
BEAU: You’re supposed to be resting
WREN: I don’t need another man in my life telling me to relax, Beau Sterling
BEAU: I said resting
WREN: It’s the same thing
BEAU: It’ll be fine, right?
I hit send before I can think twice, my vulnerability bleeding into the words.
WREN: Absolutely. Just maybe have a napkin ready for Mom when she starts crying, or sacrifice Jesse, whatever comes first
Chuckling, I pocket my phone and push open the door to my childhood home, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as I step inside.
It’s beautiful—my mother replaced most of the furniture after we all moved out but it’s still home and even though I’ve been on my own a long time, being here feels like everything is going to work out all right.
Unsurprisingly, it’s loud, my mother yelling over the show my father is watching as she bangs around the kitchen.
Home.
Whatever nerves I’d had are gone now that I’m here, my heart full even before I tell them because I know they’ll be happy.
“Jesse, all I’m saying is that there’s no reason you can’t find a nice man here in Wintervale.” Giving him an innocent look, she adds, “Get a couple of dogs if you don’t want kids—I’m not picky.”
“Mom, I told you I’m not interested?—”
“You owe me,” I murmur to my brother, cutting off whatever he was about to say as he narrows his eyes at me. “Mom, you remember Indie, right? From the wedding?”
“Of course! She was so lovely.”
“Glad you think so because she’s gonna make you a grandma.” The line sounded a little less abrupt in my head, as the room falls shockingly silent for a beat before all hell breaks loose.
“She what?! Are you— Winston! Winston!” my mother yells, my father’s eyebrows somewhere in his hairline as he hustles into the kitchen and wraps me in a hug.
“Definitely owe you.” Jesse chuckles behind me.
“Is she here?” my father asks, holding me at arm’s length before my mother ducks under his arm between us and hugs me tight, her tears wetting my shirt.
Wren was right. I should have grabbed a napkin.
“You’re having a baby?” she asks, her hands cupping my face, her eyes glassy but bright.
“Yeah,” I manage, a lump of emotion in my throat.
I’m going to be a dad.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Pen’s voice is nearly a screech as she pushes closer, nearly boxing my father out of the way. “You’re having a baby? And she didn’t tell me?!”
Chuckling, I look over as I wrap an arm around my mom and give her a small shrug. “We’ve been waiting to figure a few things out and we knew you’d tell Lake.”
“Hey!” Lake whines, making Jesse snicker behind me.
Ignoring them both, I add, “She was really sick, things were complicated, and we weren’t ready to tell anyone.”
Things are still complicated.
The feeling I’m missing something hasn’t gone away but I can’t focus on that now—not when I can finally tell my family the good news.
“I’m buying you guys the most obnoxious, loud, baby toys. I hope you know that,” Pen grumbles.
“I’ll be sure to let her know.” I tell her, lifting my arm to the side so she can hug me too. It’s weird but I like it because I know that this baby will be loved.
And Indie will be too, and that’s all I can ask for.
“Do her parents know? Are they coming? They have to stay here—we have plenty of room. Winston, how do you feel about getting the guest suite repainted before her parents come?”
“Mom,”—Lake cajoles, pulling her out from under my arm to wrap her in a smothering hug—“just enjoy the moment. You can plan later.”
“Thank you,” I mouth to him and he nods, steering our mother back into the kitchen as he makes a fuss over pulling out the garlic bread from the oven.
She knows what he’s doing but she lets him because Elora Sterling knows how to pick her battles. I should probably warn Indie that she’ll be peppered with questions and well-wishes when she gets here, but that’s a conversation for later.
Because I might not always know how to show it, but my family is everything to me, and having Indie and the baby be a part of this is more than I could have hoped for.