Page 29 of My Brother’s Locksmith Friend

She moans between thrusts. “This is not how to pick a family vacation.”

I move her to the top of the table where the brochures will have to wait until we’re finished.

She’s panting as I bury myself inside of her. “Daddy, you’re going to ruin the brochures.”

I stop for a moment to look her in the eyes. “Baby girl, fuck these brochures.”

Finding a minute to please my wife is hard to do with a newborn. With Hawk finally sleeping peacefully and life giving us a moment to enjoy each other, I take it. I take her over and over again for as much as my body will allow.

I can’t believe how lucky I am to have a woman like Havana.

She keeps me calm and focused. I work hard for her to have the freedom to be herself. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and bringing my son into this world makes me all the more grateful for her.

We have our entire lives ahead of us, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

HAVANA

Fifteen Years Later

“Roll call,” Honour Haven shouts from the top of the steps of a massive cabin in the wooded mountains of Pennsylvania where the annual Haven Hideaway is kicking off.

Mrs. Honour Haven, mother to the Haven men who make young women fall in love with them, calls her brood of grandchildren to the steps. The sun is setting, and there’s a fire roaring in the pit. Her husband, my father-in-law, Hank, is grilling an assortment of meats while Halo, my sweet sister and Hayden’s wife, is inside fixing sides.

Heather is out with the kids and our husbands doing who knows what, and I’m still standing in our room deciding what to wear. I can see and hear them from the large window overlooking the back deck.

I love watching everyone come out of random corners of the property to coral in front of Honour.

They’re all in camouflage and fatigues, armed and loaded with water balloons. I decide to sit this game out as the balloons aren’t just filled with water but touches of paint or nail polish to see who hit the most targets. The targets are each other.

“Hana, Haley, and Harriet,” Honour calls out Hayden’s children first. The girls giggle with their matching pigtails. All the kids are close in age from 15 to 17 years between them, with Hayden’s troop being the oldest.

“Here,” the three answer their grandmother.

“Y’all head inside and get cleaned up. Finish helping your mama put the food out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they answer and head inside.

Honour looks at the twins, Harlow and Hazel, with their younger brother, Hudson Jr, coming in behind them. He’s guarding their back, like he’s waiting for their parents to pounce. Hudson and Heather have a wild thing where they like to wrestle and whoever’s close is liable to get sucked into their madness.

“Y’all set the table and plates up out here, and don’t get that colored water all over the floors. Put the tarp down,” Honour says.

“Yes, ma’am,” they reply and head off to their duties.

“Hawk, Hilary, Henry, and Houston, y’all stayed in the roped-off area?” she asks.

My not-so-baby boy Hawk steps forward, answering for his siblings, “Yes ma’am. I already went through to pick up the balloon pieces. Dad, Uncle River, and Aunt Heather are going over it to make sure we got it all.”

“Very good. Y’all head inside and wash up. Clean up those bathrooms so your cousins can take turns and get ready for dinner.” Honour smiles at them as they all head inside.

The sound of trampling feet fills the massive house that I can’t believe belongs to our massive family. This is far more than I can ever imagine, and I’m happy to be a part of it. Yet, when I back away from the window, I look at the dresses laid out and some other pieces of clothes to choose from.

I don’t want to wear any of it.

Hendrix comes in, clearly in need of a shower with his hair in a low ponytail and his clothes soaked with multiple colors from their balloon warfare.

“You should have come out with us, baby girl. Hilary’s got a mean arm on her. That girl needs to be on a pitching mound.”

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