Suddenly we were all tangled in arms and elbows, pressed together in a clumsy embrace full of laughter and limbs. Tutu's flower crown ended up around my neck. Mrs. Mulroney’s tears drenched my shirt. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the love we felt at that moment.
“This baby’s got more people crying over it thanMarley and Me,” Rashida said, dabbing her eyes with a cocktail napkin.
“I’ll handle story time,” Mr. Banks offered. “I have a delightful collection of Eastern European folktales involving medieval torture and village witches.”
“We arenottraumatizing the baby,” Cal stated, his voice firm but calm like he was already practicing being a dad.
“I call bathtime duty!” Angus bellowed. “Better stock up on bubble bath.”
“Absolutely not,” said three people at once.
“I’m knitting a swaddle blanket,” Mrs. Mulroney said. “It started out as mittens, then turned into a bonnet, then I got excited and just kept going. It may be more difficult to fold than a fitted sheet, but at least the little darling will be snug.”
Leilani laughed, cheeks pink. “That sounds adorable.”
Tutu reached out and took her granddaughter’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You continue to make this family proud, keiki. Every single day.”
Leilani’s eyes shimmered, and I watched her blink hard, trying not to cry. “Guess I better keep it up, then.”
Cal looked at me, then around the room at this crazy, messy, overwhelming pile of people who had somehow fused into one amazing family unit—and he smiled.
“How are we going to fit them all in the waiting room?” he whispered.
“We’re not,” I said. “We’re going to need a stadium.”
With a clink of his fork against a glass, Cal stood.
“You’re making a speech?” I asked, surprised and instantly impressed with my man.
He shrugged. “It’s as good a time as any… right?”
The chatter dimmed—well, mostly. Mr. Banks was now humming “Rock-a-bye Baby” before Rashida elbowed him.
Cal cleared his throat. “I’m not really the speech type,” he said, looking around at the faces smiling back at him—some tearful, some grinning, some completely unhinged in the best possible way. “But… I just want to say thank you. To Leilani, for her incredible heart. To our families—for showing up, for caring so fiercely, for being as weird and wonderful as you are.”
He paused, eyes landing on me. “And to Matt—for making me believe in all of this. In love, in family… in whatever kind of future we get to build now.”
A murmur of “awww” rippled through the room. Mr. Banks saluted, Mrs. Mulroney crossed herself, and Angus burst into tears of joy while Kimo cuddled him with a “There, there, little buddy. Let all that happiness out. It will fill your aura with love.”
Cal raised his glass. “To the future. And to the tiny, perfect newcomer who’s about to change everything.”
Glasses clinked. Someone spilled something. Tutu said “amen.” And for a moment, the entire room just… breathed together.
We ate.
We drank wine and champagne, except for Leilani.
We celebrated.
As Angus and Kimo began to clear dessert, I saw Nakoa lean over to Leilani and say, “I’m gonna need to meet with the family elders this week. There’s been some talk… land issues.”
Leilani nodded, brow tightening slightly. “Everything okay?”
“Probably,” Nakoa said, though his voice carried that kind of probably that meantnot really. “I’ll let you know.”
But then Kimo made a loud joke, Angus giggled, and the moment drifted into the background like a cloud that hadn’t decided whether or not to rain.
The night lingered on—stories, teasing, a brief ukulele interlude courtesy of Tutu Makani—and somewhere between the laughter and the leftovers, I caught Cal watching me with that look again.
