Page 32 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Magnus

I awoke to a text message from Eric.

Maren’s water broke. Labor is kicking up. Any chance you’re able to come help me distract the others?

I released a long sigh to the empty loft before replying.

I’m an excellent distraction. On my way.

Unsure what exactly one wore to become a grandparent for the first time, I quickly pulled on jeans, boots, and a thick sweatshirt in deference to the cold snap and snow on the ground. The dogs followed me over, frolicking in the snow. Eric greeted me at the back door as I toweled off the dogs and removed my boots.

“You made it.” Eric’s eyes were bright with gratitude and worry. I wanted to hug him in the worst way, tell him I was there for him as much or more than anyone else. “I helped Marissa set up the birthing tub in my bedroom. The other kids will be up soon. I need to think about breakfast?—”

“Eric!” Diesel charged out of the primary bedroom. “Maren’s asking for you.”

“Go.” I waved Eric on. “I’ll handle breakfast and the other kids.”

“You okay?” I asked Diesel when he didn’t immediately follow Eric out of the kitchen. “Remember to breathe.”

“That’s Maren’s job.” Diesel frowned. Exhaustion creased his young face, and he wore the same T-shirt as the day before.

“No, it’s yours too.” I pulled him in for a fast hug. “You can’t support her if you’re not also taking care of you.”

As I said the words, I wondered yet again about the balance of supporting Eric while also protecting my heart. At the moment, the best way to do both was to hug Diesel again before sending him back to Maren and then start breakfast. Luckily, the fridge yielded bacon and eggs while the pantry had a box of pancake mix. As I slid a pan of bacon into the oven and readied the pancake batter, all three teens trooped into the kitchen.

“I don’t care if it’s not a snow day.” Wren glared, daring me to object. “I’m not going to school.”

“Me either.” John shook his head. “No way will I be able to concentrate.”

“I don’t have school anymore.” Rowan trailed behind them, clicking around on his phone. “And you’re in luck. Snow day. And hopefully, baby’s birthday.”

“All right. Here’s the plan.” I gestured at the three of them. “I’m going to make breakfast, and we’re going to stay out of the way. All of us.”

John and Rowan had pointed looks for Wren, who held up their hands.

“I need data for the chart I made to predict how labor is going.”

“Listen, I don’t know much about babies. Or medicine, for that matter.” I glanced toward the rear of the house as I continued on with my task of making bacon and pancakes. Eric was occupied, so Wren was stuck with me and my limited grasp of science. “That’s your dad and Marissa. But I do know there are some things in life you can’t predict.”

Like catching feelings for a single dad of four, but that was a revelation I wasn’t about to share.

“Or control.” John narrowed his eyes. “There’s so much we can’t control.”

“And that’s not always a bad thing,” I mused. Yesterday, I wanted to control Eric and the situation. Today, however, I had a mellower point of view. I couldn’t control Eric or his preferences about dating publicly, but I could control whether I let that be the end of us. “The baby will arrive on its own timetable, regardless of what the data or the moon or anything else says.”

“I just want Maren to be okay.” Wren’s voice was small and soft, and I was suddenly desperate for Eric to return. He’d know what to say. I surveyed the three teens, all of whom had lost so much, and none of whom would believe any nicely worded cliché either.

“I know. Me too.” I met Wren’s worried gaze before removing the finished bacon from the oven. “I’d like to tell you everything will be okay, but we don’t know that yet either.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.” Rowan clapped Wren on the shoulder. “Together. Like always.”

“Together,” John echoed, and the word rang in my brain as well. Together. That was the missing ingredient—I needed Eric to work together with me to come up with a plan for the future rather than me dictating or giving an ultimatum.

Renewed hope surged through me, coming out in my voice as I plated some pancakes and bacon for Wren. “And remember, chances are good that things will work out. Babies are born every day.”

“But not our baby.” Wren gave a dramatic moan. “This baby is special.”

“It is.” I nodded. “And that’s reason to celebrate. We have to have hope. We might not know what’s going to happen, but we can still have hope.”

“Yeah, Wren, think about the good,” Rowan urged.

“Huh.” Wren stared down at their pancakes, tone and expression more thoughtful. “What if we made a birthday cake for after the baby is here?”

“A party! A birthday party for the baby.” Rowan clapped his hands. “Don’t have to ask me twice. Wren, let’s go raid the decorations closet after we eat.”

“Your suggestion to focus on hope was good,” John said after Wren and Rowan fled to find party ideas, leaving John and me to handle the breakfast cleanup. “The party will be a good distraction.”

“I’m totally winging it.”

“Eh. That’s a talent too.” John shrugged as he snagged the last piece of bacon. “One I wish I had. Rolling without a plan sucks.”

“I get that. You’re a lot like your dad.” My tone was fond. I could afford to be more understanding of that personality quirk of Eric’s. Neither of us had a roadmap for this thing between us, and that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

“I know. Neither of us is a fan of surprises.” John laughed. “Trust me, if there was a procedure manual for my life right now, I’d take it.”

“Want to talk about it?” I pitched my voice conversational as I was more than experienced in the difficulty of getting teens to open up.

“Not really.” John’s reply was about what I’d expected. “There’s simply a lot up in the air—which college I end up at, where my friends will go, and so many plans we can’t make yet. And I just want to know .”

“I get that.” I also wanted to know. I wanted to know if this thing with Eric had a future, but like John, maybe I needed to cultivate patience.

“You want me to find the cupcake pans?” John asked in a clear bid to change the subject.

“Cupcakes are a good call. They will cool faster than cake.”

“And we can add sprinkles.” His rare grin was so much like Eric’s that my breath caught.

“Awesome.” I nodded, throat tight. I wanted Eric, wanted to be a part of this family, even if it was hard, even if it took time and patience. Eric was worth waiting for.