We get a week to soak in the excitement of living together and have nothing fights over him leaving the cupboard doors open in every room of the house and him being annoyed with me for not wanting to be fifteen minutes early to everything.
The second week, we have the little Meyers, and we have to get Baby Meyer’s room ready, plus the one for Logan. I know that the new baby won’t need a room to themselves for a long while, but the whole point in my adopting the babe is to give them a permanent home so that’s what they’ll have from day one.
We bring the trio shopping with us, and I admire how good Jack is with kids. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising. He’s kind of a big kid himself. Jack pushes the cart with Theo in it, kicking his legs against the metal. Lorelei rides inside the larger part of the cart and Bethany strolls beside it, occasionally hopping onto the back to hitch a ride.
“What we lookin’ for, Jack?” Theo says. They’re instant best friends and it warms my heart.
“Well, between you and me, I don’t really know, but I bet babies need blankets. What do yah figure, Lorelei?”
“Blankets.” She nods. “Probably bottles too.”
“Obviously, hockey theme,” Jack says.
“What’s a theme, Jack?” Theo asks.
“A theme is when …” Jack gets into some long and drawn-out explanation with two sets of wide eyes looking on at him, eating up every word.
When we get to the till with our overflowing cart, Jack pulls out his credit card. “I’m paying, Merc. I want to contribute to the baby too.” He gives a meaningful look, one that says we have more stuff to talk about.
I think I know so I let him pay. I have pride, but it’s for other things. I understand the need to contribute.
Later, he helps me put them to bed, inviting all three of them to gather around for story time where he tells them a tale about a gorgeous green-eyed prince who is also a hockey player and the rogue king from another land—who happens to be a hockey coach—that fall in love with each other.
I roll my eyes at him, but I get all tingly inside.
Then comes one of my favorite parts of the day, where we get to fall into our large bed together. We fuck like wild things and then collapse twisted around each other like naughty pretzels.
“So, I live here now,” he says. “With you and your little Meyers.”
“You do,” I say, pushing hair off his face. He still hasn’t cut it since the team grew it for the playoffs. It’s getting wild. “Guess you’re wondering how you’ll fit in with Baby Meyer, eh?”
He nods. “A bit, yeah. I don’t want to overstep. I know we’re still new—it’s barely been a year—even if I feel like I’ve been with you all my life. Merc? I can’t seem to remember the before times.”
“Before times?”
“Before Mercy and Jack times.”
I grin and kiss his lips. “I’ve been thinking about this—you, me, and the babe. I’ve decided to be optimistic for once.”
He squints at me. “I must be experiencing the Mandela Effect or something, ‘cuz you’re Merc, but slightly different.”
“The Mandela Effect is not a thing.”
“It is too a thing! Looney T-U-N-E-S or Looney T-O-O-N-S, Merc? That one still fucks me up.”
“Anyway, on being positive. Raise baby Stanley or Stan-l-e-i-g-h with me.” I’ve rehearsed it a thousand times in my head over the past fourteen days, never has it been paired with this truck load of nerves. It’s one thing for him to be living here, but what almost twenty-five-year-old wants a baby?
Buying a cart full of baby toys and other necessary paraphernalia, doesn’t mean he wants fatherhood.
“We get to name them after the Stanley Cup? That’s what you’re doing with that, right?”
“One hundred percent.”
“People like us shouldn’t be allowed children for that reason, but thank fuck there are no laws about it yet. Best name ever.”
My mouth is dry. “Is that a yes?”
“You might regret this, but it’s a hell-yeah yes. I’ll fall in love immediately. I’ll love them to death.”
