Page 157 of 12 Months of Mayhem

“After the birth?”

“I see that fucking stubborn streak of yours hasn’t lessened with age.”

“Language!” Mama yells from inside the kitchen.

“I swear, Ameline has to be part bat. She hears everything. But seriously, you’re good, right?”

I sigh, leaning back into the recliner. “I’m...managing,” I admit, my hand instinctively moving to rest on my swollen belly. “It’s been a rough ride, but the doctors say we’re out of the danger zone now. I have to stay on bed rest for the next four weeks and maybe until the end of my pregnancy.”

Bobo’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “You should’ve called me, Rem. I would’ve been here in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” I say, feeling a pang of guilt. “You have a family of your own now and your own club that needs you.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my family.”

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I know, Bobo. I’m sorry. I just...I’m not used to leaning on people, you know?”

Bobo snorts, a familiar sound that takes me back to our teenage years. “Yeah, I know. You’ve always been stubborn as a mule. But listen, Rem, you’ve got a whole army of people here ready to help. Let us, okay?”

Before I can respond, Rex returns with a steaming bowl of gumbo. The rich aroma makes my mouth water instantly. “Here you go, sweetheart,” he says, carefully handing me the bowl. “Eat up. Doctor’s orders.”

I take a spoonful, closing my eyes as the flavors explode on my tongue. It tastes like home, like comfort, like all the things I’ve been missing these past few weeks. “Mama outdid herself this time.”

“She’s been cooking non-stop since we got the call that you were coming home,” Rex says, perching on the arm of the chair opposite Bobo. “I think she’s channeling all her anxiety into food.”

As if summoned by our conversation, Mama appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “How is it, baby?” she asks, her eyes searching my face.

“It’s perfect, Mama,” I assure her, taking another big spoonful. “Just what I needed.”

As I savor another spoonful of Mama’s gumbo, the front door bursts open, and a whirlwind of energy enters in the form of Birdie and Beaux.

Birdie’s blonde curls are wild, sticking out in all directions, while Beaux’s dark hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. They’re talking over each other, their words tumbling out in a jumbled mess of “Mama, guess what?” and “You won’t believe what we saw!”

Rex steps in, his large hands gently corralling our energetic duo. “Alright, alright, let’s give Mama some space,” he says. “Why don’t you two go show Uncle Bobo that new video game you’ve been talking about?”

Bobo’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “Oh yeah? You rugrats got something new to show me?” he asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Birdie squeals with delight, grabbing Voodoo’s hand and tugging him towards the stairs. “Come on, Uncle Bobo! It’s so cool, you’re gonna love it!”

Beaux follows close behind, already launching into an explanation of the game’s mechanics. I lean back in the recliner, taking in the scene around me. I watch Rex and Mama in the kitchen doorway, their heads bent close as they talk in hushed tones. The sound of laughter drifts down from upstairs, where Birdie, Beaux, and my brother are engrossed in their video game. Outside, the rumble of motorcycle engines mingles with the chatter of voices and the clinking of bottles. The Voodoo City Queens and the Zulu Kings, once bitter rivals, are now united in their concern for me and my unborn child. It’s a peace I never thought I’d see, let alone be the cause of.

My hand rests on my swollen belly, feeling the gentle movements of life growing inside me. It’s a miracle, really, after everything we’ve been through.

Bobo’s voice suddenly booms down the stairs, jolting me from my reverie. “Hey, Remy! Got a question for you. You naming his kid after me too because I have some ideas.”

I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head. Leave it to Bobo to bring up something like that. Before I can respond, Rex’s grumbles from the kitchen.

“Fuck no!” he says firmly, but I can hear the hint of amusement in his tone.

Mama smacks Rex on the arm at his swearing.

I can’t help but smile at the familiar banter. The warmth of family and friends surrounds me, a stark contrast to the cold fear that’s been my constant companion lately.

“For your information, Bobo,” I call up the stairs, “we haven’t decided on a name yet.”

Bobo’s laughter echoes down the stairs. “Well, just remember, ‘Bobo Junior’ has a nice ring to it!”

Rex makes his way back to me, perching on the arm of the recliner. His large hand covers mine where it rests on my belly. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks.

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