Page 19 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

Dylan just shrugs.

Riley says, lifting her hands between us, “I’ll be quick.”

I remove my coat, hand it to Dylan, then raise my arms in the air and surrender to their request, because what else can I do? And I don’t ask why Dylan isn’t the one to pat me down—whether it’s because he and I have a history or because Riley’s female. Either way, it doesn’t matter.

While being patted down, I ask Dylan, “They really haven’t gotten you yet?”

“We don’t fuck with the King of Mayhem,” Cam tells me.

“What Cam is really saying is that retaliation’s a bitch, and so is he,” Lucy says. “He’s too scared of Dylan’s payback.”

Then Logan mumbles out of nowhere, pointing to me and Riley, “Fuck, babe, this reminds me of that one porno we watched?—”

“Shut up,” Amanda cuts in, rolling her eyes at him.

I giggle, looking over at Logan. It’s only now I realize how bloodshot his eyes are. He’s clearly been drinking. I assume they all have, besides Riley, of course. And possibly Dylan.

“She’s good,” Riley announces, then wraps me in her arms.

If I’m being honest with myself, Riley is the reason I’m here. Besides the dozen messages back and forth in the gang’s group chat this morning, I didn’t receive a single text wishing me a merry Christmas. Not from my friends in Atlanta, and definitely not from my parents. The only phone call I got was from Riley, who said she hopes that I have a great day filled with love (didn’t happen) and that hopefully she’ll see me tonight.

Shewas the only reason I got out of bed. It was already midday.

I hug her a little longer than necessary.

Dylan comes next, quick and completely platonic.

“Drink?” Lucy asks.

I nod, answer, “Yes, please.” I’m sure as hell going to need it.

9

Riley

Lucy had spent her entire pregnancy in fear… though, she liked to call it “superstition.” She often declared that the sooner she prepared for Katie, the higher the chances were that something could go wrong.

She was two weeks out from her due date when Amanda and I, as gently as possible, convinced her to get the necessities. Car seat, crib, bottles, diapers, clothes, etc. We drove an hour out of town to a place where we could get everything all at once.

We spent ten minutes in the store.

Lucy barely looked at what she was buying, just pointed to products after checking their safety rating and told the clerk to “wrap it up.”

I didn’t understand her fear then.

I get it now.

The only thing she allowed to happen earlier was Cam painting the mural for the baby’s bedroom. She told us he’d work on it for hours at a time whenever he got inspired. He wanted it to be perfect for her.

For both of them.

None of us knew what the mural was until the day she went into labor. Logan had a spare key to the cabin, so he used it to let us all in. It was during the MLB offseason, so Jake and Micky just happened to be home. I called Heidi, but she was overseas at the time. She promised to come back the first chance she got.

We wanted to make sure Cam and Lucy had everything they needed when they got home. We had planned to make food and freeze it, clean whatever needed cleaning, just help in any way we could. When we entered, we noticed the car seat, still in its box, in the middle of the living room. Same with all the furniture Lucy had purchased. She hadn’t even unpacked them, let alone assembled them. Our first instinct was to do it for them, but we all knew about Lucy’s “superstition.”

Jake called Cameron, who was incredibly relieved we were there, but also told him that Lucy asked us to wait until she was holding their healthy baby girl in her arms. So that’s what we did. On whatever surface of the living room we could occupy, we waited. And waited. And waited. Forfifteenhours. None of us slept. We couldn’t even if we wanted to. And when Cameron finally video called us to show a perfect little Katie in her mother’s arms, we were so elated. And relieved. And then we got to work.

Since Lucy had to have an emergency cesarean, she wouldn’t be home for days, which gave us time. We worked on making the food first, just in case Cameron ducked home for a break. A few hours after we got the call from Cameron, all six of Lucy’s brothers, along with her dad, showed up at the cabin. They were there for the same reason. Only, they had brought furniture with them. Lucy’s brothers had surprised them with a handcrafted crib for their baby niece—the most perfect piece of furniture I’d ever seen. It matched the rocking chair that Lucy’s mother had used with all seven of them.

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