It’s A Secret

Noaz

Immediately following the last chapter

After not leaving the house for a couple weeks, it feels like such a production to go out and come back. Then again, maybe it’s not just because we’ve been home. It might be because we no longer leave with just what we’re wearing. Now we leave with another little human in a big carrier, a diaper bag, and, depending on where we’re going, there’s the stroller, an outside portable bassinet that keeps the sun off of the baby, and a whole closet full of other things.

Gathering baby things has been fun and I love all the options out there, but I can’t help wondering if we’re going to use half this stuff. Emerson will only stay this small for so long. It feels like half the things we have for him will become obsolete within a few months because his weight alone should make him too big.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration.

“How about if we feed Em, then eat? We’ll let everyone know they can come over after,” Briar suggests.

I nod. “Yeah. Want to get him out and I’ll prepare a bottle?”

“Yep,” Briar says, setting the car seat on the couch.

We asked Doc to choose a formula, but we buy breast milk from the hospital, too. It’s delivered every week. They come in little pouches that I cut open and pour into a bottle. Then we have a bottle hot tub to slowly heat it up.

Honestly, there’s not much to do to prepare a bottle. It’s dealing with cleaning all those bottles that’s a pain.

While it’s heating, I check the stew in the crockpot, and give it a stir. As soon as I remove the lid, the entire house is filled with the delicious aroma. It makes my stomach growl.

Briar changes Emerson’s diaper on the little changing table that comes attached to the top of the pack and play, and by the time our baby is clean and fussing a little, the bottle’s done. Briar sets Emerson in my arms and gets me situated with a pillow, blanket, and cloth diapers, which we learned are amazing for cleaning up wet burps and spit up according to a baby forum. I have to say—I agree.

He kisses my head, gently rubbing Emerson’s as he straightens. “I’m going to make the dumplings while he eats.”

I nod and watch him leave the room. From every damn angle, that man is sexy as fuck. Right now, I don’t notice his limp right away. Is that because he knows I’m watching him or is it because it doesn’t hurt as it had as recently as a few days ago? The familiar ache in my chest makes me look away.

Perhaps I shouldn’t feel guilty, but all I can think about is how if I’d done something different, he wouldn’t have been shot. The ‘what if’ questions constantly move through my head. If I had been quicker. What if I took that guy out first. If I hadn’t left him alone. If only I made him stay in the car. If I had…

I’m distracted from my thoughts when Emerson makes a sound. I remove the bottle from his mouth and his little mouth continues to move as if it’s there. He struggles to lift his head to follow it. I smile and bring it back.

He’s definitely not a fussy baby. If we wake him up, and he’s still tired, he’ll fuss a little. If he’s starving within his three hours between feedings, he’ll fuss a little. He doesn’t care to get a bath, at least at first. Once he feels the comfort of the warm water, he calms down. Otherwise, he’s rather quiet.

Doc says he’s perfectly healthy, some babies are just quiet. We should take that as the blessing it is.

The forums say that having an easy baby first gives you a false sense of ease and leads to more babies. You have more and they are never as easy as the first.

But looking at little Emerson, I think I don’t care how fussy my baby is. I’m excited to fill our house with babies. A big family. Not all at once, of course. I want to be able to give each baby as much of our attention as possible without splitting it.

This led us to the discussion about how long between each child. We’re not using daycare; it’s entirely unnecessary. So that means preschool. Sources are mixed as to when a child should begin preschool. Some countries start as young as one. Admittedly, those are among the highest ranked countries for education.

But I’m not sure I want to part with Emerson that soon for several hours a day. In the US, preschool is becoming more common because both parents tend to work full-time. And that usually begins around three or four, depending on availability.

I sit Emerson up to burp him once he’s finished his four ounces. He was hungry. Doc says it’s good and that he’s growing as he should, which makes me super happy. And relieved. I’ve been terrified about the first few days of his life causing him trauma. So far, though, he seems okay.

Not just okay. He’s perfect.

It doesn’t take long before I’ve worked up a few good burps. Luckily, he only dribbles a little milky drool. Then he’s asleep again.

I’m excited for the days when he’ll stay awake for a few minutes more. I can’t wait to really see his eyes. But he likes to sleep, which I’m not complaining about. It means we still get plenty of sleep too. We know this won’t always be the case, so we’re enjoying it while we can.

I lay him in the bassinet that’s on a wheely base. It came with the pack ’n play, and I think we use it the most out of every piece of furniture. We can take him anywhere with it, so he’s never far from us and we can always keep an eye on him. It’s not very big, so he’ll outgrow it quickly. I’m dreading the day.

In the kitchen, I leave him at the end of the counter so he’s far away from the stove. After rinsing out his bottle, I set it in the bottle sterilizer. By the time I turn around, Briar has a bowl of stew ready for me and a sexy smile on his handsome face.

“I texted everyone and said they can come over any time after two,” Briar says. “Honey Bee immediately began coordinating once I clarified that while they didn’t need to stagger times, this was a show-and-tell only. No one was going to hold him or get super close.”

I grin. “So what time are we being invaded?”

“Two-thirty.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone except your brothers who don’t live here. Arath responded that he’ll be back next week, and Oxley says they’ll be here this weekend.”

“They? Does that mean he’s bringing his boyfriend?” This is damn good stew, so I end up talking with food in my mouth like a toddler.

“I didn’t ask for clarification, but his text said ‘we.’” Briar shows me the thread.

We met Elgin at our wedding. Haze may have drooled a little bit over meeting a real-life hockey player. We may have picture proof of said drool as well. Such is the price of having a hundred photographers. No, I still haven’t asked how many there were or to see the life-sized recreations of our day.

Yet. I’m sure they’re coming.

However, we still haven’t met Huntley, Oxley’s boyfriend. He wasn’t there. I’m not sure they were together at that point. Life’s been a little crazy and I’ve lost track of who joined the family when.

We don’t have long before everyone comes at once. Briar ushers everyone into the family room at the back—the only room big enough to fit us all in our house. As I bring Emerson in, I realize this might be the last time we can all fit under our roof if our families grow. I’m surprised to find it makes me sad.

There are quiet murmurs when I step inside as everyone is mindful of him sleeping. I’m filled with so much pride for this moment of sharing the newest member of our family with most of the people we love the most.

Briar and I talked about it, and we decided only one person could hold Emerson at this gathering today. Especially since we already exposed him to a house of people with Miranda. I pick my way through everyone and stop in front of Jalon, who's leaning against the wall when I approach.

I’m surprised when he grips the back of my neck and brings me close, hugging me. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, making me choke up. Of course. I feel so mushy these days. Giving up hunting gang members has made me soft. “He’s perfect.”

I swallow as much of my emotion as I can while leaning into him, hiding my face. “Thanks, Jalon. Will you hold him?”

“Briar said you didn’t want anyone to hold him, which we completely understand.”

Sighing, I nod and set Emerson in his arms. “We don’t. We were only planning on letting you hold him. You know, as a grampa figure.”

Jalon chuckles.

“But really, you were more of a father to me than our actual dad for my entire childhood. And as I grew up. Even now. I’m really thankful for you and how much you loved and supported me.”

He wraps an arm around me again. There’s a lot more I want to say, but I don’t get the words out. Part of me is too aware that we have an audience and maybe it’s not the right time.

After a few minutes, I step away from Jalon and Emerson so everyone can see our son. That’s what they’re here for.

I cross the room to stand with Briar and he wraps his arm around me as we watch Jalon with our son. I’m not sure why the sight makes me choke up. My oldest brother really is the person who’s had the biggest impact and influence on my life. He’s protected and loved me, and gave me a stable childhood filled with support and maybe a little indulgence.

“You going to share his name yet?” Honey Bee asks.

“Ah,” Briar says. “I forgot we hadn’t.”

“We thought it was a secret. Do you have some big reveal?” she teases.

I smile, shaking my head. “No. Emerson Zesiro.”

“Zesiro,” the triplets repeat. Yes, in unison. It causes a few quiet laughs.

I nod. “Yes.”

“Kairo texted that he got to meet him first,” Voss grumbles, narrowing his eyes on me.

“Indeed. He’s bragged at least half a dozen times in the last hour,” Jalon agrees, his eyes still on Emerson.

“Sorry. He showed up with chocolate,” I explain. “And… I don’t know. Maybe he’s actually trying not to be an ass, and I didn’t want to ruin it. We’d already planned to let everyone over this afternoon, and he was leaving, so…” I shrug.

“It’s fine,” Jalon says. “You don’t need to explain.”

“I’m glad he’s stopped being an ass to you,” Voss says, rolling his eyes. “He definitely hasn’t changed to the rest of us.”

“Have a baby,” I suggest. “That might work.”

Voss snorts. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

There’s a moment of silence while everyone admires our sleeping Emerson. Myro gets to his feet and crosses the room so he’s not in the middle. “So, since we’re all gathered in one place, there’s something I want to tell you.”

Dutifully, the entire room shifts to look at him.

“For the past six months, I’ve been seeing Honey Bee. It didn’t start out serious, but these last few months, we’ve kind of switched gears and it’s become more serious.” He looks at Honey Bee with a soft smile.

Honey Bee grins. “We didn’t mean to keep it from you or to sneak around. It really did just start out casually and we didn’t think anything of it. Keeping it a secret meant we didn’t have any outside expectations placed on us. But we agree that it’s time we stopped keeping it a secret.”

“Are you pregnant?” Brek asks, narrowing his eyes.

Honey Bee laughs. “No. It’s a little too soon for that.”

The room is quiet as we exchange looks amongst ourselves. Who’s going to tell them we knew all along? Their sneaking skills need some work.

“Wait,” Loren says, frowning as he looks between Myro and Honey Bee. “That was a secret?”

We laugh. Ah, there it is.

I lean my head on Briar’s shoulder as Myro and Honey Bee begin to realize maybe they weren’t as stealthy as they thought when my nephews and Briar’s besties begin good-naturedly teasing them.

I love my family, and I’m looking forward to many more days like this. 

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