Page 260 of Where We Stay

My eyes fill as I look around the table.

Dean. Aspen. Rory. Logan. Knox. His parents. Jerry.

Every one of them is watching me with nothing but love.

“This baby is going to know exactly how lucky they are to have you,” Jerry tells me.

A tear slips down my cheek. “Fuck you.”

He laughs softly. “There she is.”

Dean appears beside me, resting one hand against my back. Jerry looks between us.

“You happy?” he asks.

I look at Dean, then at Aspen, who is loudly informing Rory that she knew before everyone else.

“Yeah.” I smile. “Really happy.”

Jerry gives me a satisfied nod. “Good.”

Dean kisses my temple, and for the first time, I don’t feel as though I’ve borrowed someone else’s family for the night.

This family is mine too.

* * *

Christmas morning looks nothing like the ones I remember.

For years, I spent Christmas with my parents passed out on the couch after a bender, with Jerry when he could convince me not to shut myself away, or completely alone.

This morning, Aspen woke us by jumping on the bed and demanding we open presents immediately. We’ve spent the day in warm pajamas, drinking hot coffee, exchanging gifts and eating far too much food.

Dean and Logan finally gave their dad the Mustang they’ve been restoring. He stood in the garage staring at it for so long that Aspen asked if he’d fallen asleep standing up. He denied crying, even with tears running down his face, and all he managed to say was, “You boys remembered.”

Courtney came over for breakfast so she could celebrate with Aspen, and now Dean, Pen, Jerry and I are piled onto the couch watching Home Alone.

I look around at all of them, my throat tightening.

After everything, I finally got what I wanted.

Fifty One

Dean

Three months later

Somewhere between Christmas and now, our lives have settled into something resembling normal.

Blair’s morning sickness has finally stopped trying to kill her, although my deodorant is still banned from the upstairs bathroom. The baby is healthy and growing exactly as they should, and I’ve got the latest scan photo tucked inside my wallet.

Blair still sees her therapist every week. Some days, she comes home quiet. Other days, she seems lighter. I don’t ask what they talk about. I listen when she wants to tell me.

Things with Courtney have settled too. She has Pen overnight a few times each month now and hasn’t missed a single pickup. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I’m starting to believe it might not.

For once, nothing feels like it’s on fire.

Which is fucking convenient because I’ve had an engagement ring hidden in my toolbox for six days.