Page 139 of False Start
“Impossible,” Clay said, taking his son into his arms and tapping his nose. “You poop roses, don’t you, Atlas?”
I chuckled, taking a swig of my beer as Clay disappeared down the hall to change Atlas. Mary and Leo started in on Braden, asking him whenhewas going to be bringing a special someone to these events, but my gaze had drifted to Madelyn.
She was mid-laugh, absentmindedly rubbing her belly as she listened to Giana, no doubt regaling her and Riley with the water birth story. Where Giana had found it spiritual and beautiful, Clay had been scared to death, his cell phone clutched in his hand should he have to call the ambulance.
But it had gone off without a hitch, their midwife leading the way, and now Atlas was already two weeks old.
Seeing Madelyn laugh made it easier for me to breathe. God only knew the last few months of our lives had been filled with the highest highs and the lowest lows. We had a baby girl on theway — healthy, as far as we could tell from the tests run so far. Sebastian couldn’t wait to be a big brother. He was even helping me put the nursery together. And we had enough room at the house that Madelyn’s parents had come to stay with us for a few weeks — both to help around the house for the holidays since I was still in full swing for the season, and to be there navigating the custody trial with us.
Thathad been the source of most of the lows.
If I thought I’d seen Marshall pissed off before, it was nothing compared to when he found out Madelyn was pregnant. He’d threatened to not only get full custody of Sebastian, but to find a way to rip our daughter from us as soon as she was born, too.
I didn’t know what fucking planet he lived on where he thought either of those things were possible.
I wasn’t the least bit afraid of that punk ass bitch, but Madelyn had years of being on the receiving end of his worst blows. She’d sobbed in my arms, so sure he had something up his sleeve to do everything he promised he would.
When we failed to find an agreement during mediation, I told our lawyer that I was done with Marshall’s shit.
I wanted to go for the jugular now.
So, for the last month and a half, we’d endured grueling interviews with both our lawyer and Marshall’s. His, of course, tried to pin outrageous accusations on us and trap us into admission — including saying that we abandoned Sebastian for a weekend of partying in Denver over the summer.
However smart his lawyers thought they were, ours was smarter. We were compiling text messages and photographs, and Madelyn was prepared to make a personal statement in front of the judge. We were going for full custody, for stepparent adoption, for everything.
As confident as I was that the judge would see Marshall for the monster he was, it still killed me to see all the stress of the trial wearing on my future wife. She was worried, and nothing I said or did would calm her. She wouldn’t rest easy until we had a ruling, and she knew her son was safe with us.
We were just a few weeks from the court date now.
As if she could sense my thoughts, Madelyn blinked, frowning a bit before her eyes caught mine from across the room. I winked at her with a smile and mouthedneed anything?
She smiled in return and shook her head, holding up her hot cocoa like it was all she needed in this moment. That, and a nod toward where Sebastian was clutching his gut in a fit of giggles after he missed jumping on an alligator as Donkey Kong, and now Holden was tickling him and saying he ruined the mission.
“Here, Dad. Practice time,” Clay said, jolting me back to the group. I blinked and set my beer down just in time to have my arms filled with a warm baby boy, who was content for the moment, but looked ready to scream for Giana’s boob any second now.
“Think we have a future safety on our hands here?” I asked Clay, adjusting Atlas until we both were comfortable. He was so fucking cute, it wasn’t fair. Even this small and new to the world, I could see he had Clay’s dimple and eyes. His hair mirrored Giana’s — full and curly already.
“Psh, nah,” Clay said, waving me off. “QB.”
“He’s going to need Uncle Holden to show him how to throw a spiral, then,” Holden called from the living room. “God knows you won’t be able to teach him.”
“Got the arm of one of those blow-up noodle dudes in front of the car lots,” Braden chimed in, and then he started waving his arms over head and bending in odd directions to illustrate as we all laughed.
“Har har,” Clay said, unamused.
“Hey, Dad, can I FaceTime Nana to see Titan?” Sebastian asked, nearly colliding with my legs as he slid over to me in his socks.
I double-checked with Madelyn in a glance across the room, and once she nodded her approval, I told him he could. I dug into my pocket for my phone and offered it to him before letting him take over. He knew what to do, and he ran back to his bedroom with the phone already ringing.
“What about him?” Leo asked when Sebastian was gone. “Think he’ll want to play?”
“Maybe. He’s been soaking up everything about the game since I started teaching it to him. He mentioned wanting to try playing this summer, but it’ll be up to Mama Bear over there,” I said, nodding to Madelyn.
She was making her way toward us with three empty mugs in her hands. She dumped them into the sink before looping her arm through mine that wasn’t holding a baby.
“We’ll see,” she said. “I’m not a huge fan of the whole concussion aspect.”
“None of us are,” Mary agreed.
