Page 14 of Brokered Betrayals
Royce wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh hysterically or sob as Sawyer navigated the dark streets. It reminded him of the one time he’d performed with the middle school choir. He’d been trying to turn over a new leaf and be a better student. Royce had blown off the required participation in previous years and just didn’t show up on performance night. Aunt Tipsy had encouraged him to try new things because Eddie wasn’t around to ridicule his efforts. But having everyone’s eyes on him during the performance made Royce so nervous that he forgot all the words and giggled uncontrollably for the duration of the set instead of bawling his eyes out. His music teacher, Mrs. Hildie, would’ve snatched him bald afterward if she’d been able to keep her job. She’d accused Royce of purposely making her look stupid and blamed him for ruining the choir’s big night. He’d tried to explain that he never meant to do it, and he’d triedhis best to hold back the laughter. He’d bitten his lip until it bled to stop it and had pointed to the cuts, but Mrs. Hildie had responded in a way that had stuck with him much longer than he’d expected.
“If that was the best you can do, then you shouldn’t even try.”
Aunt Tipsy had ripped into Mrs. Hildie in front of the principal the next morning, and Holly toilet papered her house the following weekend. As much as he appreciated their support, the damage was done. Royce didn’t hear her words in his head as much anymore, but the sentiment still crept in from time to time, especially at the biggest moments in life where he stepped outside his comfort zone.
“Are you okay?” Sawyer’s voice broke his contemplative silence and pulled him back to reality. “I don’t think you’ve taken a single breath since we backed out of the driveway.”
And maybe he hadn’t. Royce pulled air deep into his lungs and calmed his jangling nerves with his next exhale. If only he’d learned that trick all those years ago. He could’ve given those families one hell of a show while singing Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind.”
“Royce?”
Shaking himself out of it, he turned to look at Sawyer’s handsome profile. “I’m deciding whether I want to cry or laugh.”
“Oh God,” Sawyer groaned. “Are you fixating on that middle school choir performance again?”
It was both a blessing and a curse to be married to someone who knew him so damn well. “Yep.”
“Mrs. Hildie was a bitch.” Sawyer’s snarl and unwavering support made him smile. Reaching over the console, Sawyer took Royce’s hand. “You can laugh, or you can cry. You can even do both at the same time. Just maybe not when the person from the family court does our home evaluation.”
Royce laughed. “Fair enough.”
“Want to tell me what triggered such an intense reaction?”
Royce looked at his husband as if he’d gone mad, but Sawyer kept his eyes on the road and didn’t notice. “Darla is coming!”
“I know that, Paul Revere, but you’ve been really calm throughout the entire pregnancy. I expected to be the hysterical one.”
“I never wanted to be a father until I met you. I didn’t want to take a chance that my best wouldn’t be good enough. It’s one thing to mess up my life, but I never wanted to drag my kid through hell and back. It’s bad enough I’ve made you an accessory to my fuckery.” Royce pulled another deep breath into his lungs and exhaled slowly. “I never wanted to be a dad, and now it’s the thing I want most in the entire world.” Tears spilled down Royce’s cheek, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “It’s terrifying.”
“I’d be more worried about us if we weren’t scared out of our minds,” Sawyer said. “Only an idiot goes into parenthood thinking they have all the answers.”
Royce laughed abruptly. “True.”
“We’re going to make mistakes, but we have each other,” Sawyer said. “I believe in you, Ro. You’re going to be an incredible father.”
“I won’t be as good as you.”
Waving him off, Sawyer said, “We’ll be an unstoppable team. And when we falter, not if, we’ll have the most loving village of humans to support us.”
“Darla Grace Locke is going to be the luckiest little girl,” Royce said.
“Damn right she is.” Sawyer made a right turn into the hospital parking lot and followed the signs for labor and delivery.
“Pull over by the front entrance so we can unload our gear,” Royce instructed. “I’ll wait with it while you park.”
“Maybe we should make sure they have a suite for us before we haul all of this upstairs,” Sawyer said.
They’d toured the facility and were assured they’d have a private suite with Darla while Kelsey recovered in a separate room nearby. The hospital had limited space, and Kelsey’s water broke four weeks early, so Royce conceded Sawyer’s point. He grabbed the bag with the phone chargers, snacks, and a change of clothes for each of them. Once inside the hospital, they followed the signs to the labor and delivery unit. Well, one of them did. Royce’s mind wandered again, and Sawyer snagged his sleeve anytime he headed in the wrong direction. The double glass doors to the maternity ward were kept locked, and Royce would’ve walked headfirst into them if not for Sawyer grabbing his elbow.
“Locked so people can’t steal the babies, remember?” Sawyer teased.
“Get it together,” Royce told himself.
Sawyer smirked and shook his head as he picked up the telephone receiver and provided their names and Kelsey’s when prompted. The lock made an electric buzzing noise as soon as he returned the phone to its cradle, and they opened the doors and stepped inside.
A statuesque blonde nurse wearing Hello Kitty scrubs greeted them with a cheerful smile. “Hi. I’m Trinity. Kelsey told us to expect you. She’s in room twelve, but she’s getting changed into a couture hospital gown, so you might give her a minute.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Royce said. “Our girl is a fashionista, and I could see her ordering a custom gown for the big event.”