When we reach the edge of the lake, we take seats on the outdoor furniture that's set up around a fire pit. Mom curls her legs up under her and stares at me with bright eyes. "So...how ready are you really to be a dad?"
"Not ready at all," I tell her with a laugh. "But I will be by the time the baby's born."
"Big change for you," she muses with a serene smile. "I always wanted my kids to have babies, but I never thought you'd be the first."
"I never thought I'd be the first either, but shit happens, right?" I tell her with a grin.
She wrinkles her nose over my curse word. She's a public-speaking coach and thinks cursing in any form is crass. Unfortunately, with three boys, she's had to adapt to us.
"Tell me truthfully," she begins in a sober voice. "What are the issues you're going to be facing?"
"Issues?" I inquire evasively. I knew Mom would poke and prod at me, but I wasn't going to make it easy on her. I like making her work at her job as a wonderfully involved parent.
She rolls her eyes at me, another trait that lends to her youthful nature, because it's a little immature. I grin at her and she glares at me. "Spill it, Lucas. This was an unplanned pregnancy. While I know you're a family man at heart, I also know this wasn't what you wanted at this time in your life. I want to help you deal, so tell me...what are the issues you're facing?"
I contain my fond smile because she amuses me, and give her a little. "Well, the pregnancy seems to be going--"
"Not the pregnancy," my mom interrupts me, and my eyes widen at the iron in her voice. "I want to know about you. How are you doing with all of this, and don't think to lie to me."
"You act as if this is ruining my life," I say defensively over her mama-bear claws that came out.
She shakes her head, those blond curls swinging. "A baby would never ruin anything. But I also know this wasn't in your immediate plan. This is a disruption to your life, and more importantly, you're not doing this in the traditional sense."
"Traditional sense?"
"Lucas," my mom reprimands me. "Don't play stupid. You're young and you're enjoying the single life. I know you, middle son. Max is the one who was always the old soul and I knew he'd settle down fast. Malik is going to be on an adventure his entire life and probably will never settle down with someone. But you're a combo of the two. You take great advantage of your youth and you're on a mission to squeeze every drop of fun and vitality out of your life before you do settle down. You weren't done squeezing, Lucas, and you're moving on to settling down not through a choice of your own, but by an accident. You were not ready for this, so I want to know how you're doing."
My mouth hangs open in surprise over how astute and incredibly silly my mother is. "All I can envision is me standing at a sink squeezing juice from grapes or something in my mouth."
"Lucas," she snaps at me, but her lips are curved in annoyed amusement. "Talk to me."
Still smiling at her, I settle back in my chair and prop an ankle on my knee. "You're right. I wasn't ready for this. Or at least I didn't think I was, but Mom, there's a tiny little thing growing inside Stephanie that's partly me, and it's weird and amazing at the same time. I may have been enjoying the single life, but it's not the only thing that can make me happy."
My mother nods in understanding. She raised us well and she never doubted that any of her boys would ever shirk responsibility, but she's still not satisfied. "Are you happy?"
I tilt my head at her, finally seeing the true worry hidden in her green-brown eyes. "Of course, I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because I know you and you're a traditional type of guy," she says softly, and I feel the first stirrings of her doubt in Stephanie. "For all your wild ways, you're still the guy that believes in true love and will get down on bended knee to make a woman his. And you're a family man. You want to be actively involved and you want to share love. I don't know Stephanie. Haven't met her yet. But I've learned enough so far to know that what you two have is not traditional in any sense. The way things have happened to you and the current journey you are on is not how you'd planned it."
"True," I say without hesitation, even though her words have shaken the ground under my feet. "But I can adapt."
"Sure you can," she returns with a breezy wave of her hand. "But as your mother, I only want the best for you. I don't want you to have to adapt. I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of, and if you can't have it, I want to help you be at peace with it."
Fuck...there's a lump in my throat now and I'm not sure I can even respond to her. She just stares at me with those eyes that have always made me want to curl up in her lap, and I don't like this feeling. I'm not a little boy but a man, and I can handle these things.
I think.
I swallow through a parched throat and cough slightly. "It's not how I envisioned my life going, but it's also not bad either. Stephanie is great and she's letting me be involved. Letting our whole family be involved."
"And what exactly is your relationship with her?" she asks bluntly. I want to tell her to mind her own business, but that won't fly with her.
"We're friends," I say slowly, making sure I'm giving it to my mom exactly how it is so she doesn't get grandiose ideas. "And we're more."
"You called it 'casually complicated' in one of our conversations," she reminds me, and that's was true at one point, but the casual nature of our relationship is totally in question.
"Very complicated," I sigh roughly. "Stephanie is...well, she's amazing. Beautiful, smart, funny, outgoing."
"But--"
"But she's also closed off, and with good reason. She didn't have a good upbringing. She was severely neglected, and so she's the type of woman who just sort of depends on herself for things."
My mom's eyes are now worried, and that wasn't my intent, so I rush to try to reassure her. "She's going to make a fantastic mother. I don't want you to worry about that because I don't. It's her first chance at true love...that baby. She won't waste it."
"What about you?" she asks softly.
"That's something even I don't know the answer to," I admit glumly. "We're friends. Sometimes I think we're close and she shares stuff little by little. Other times, she keeps me at a distance and doesn't want me to help her. She's hot and cold, and it's confusing, but I also understand it. She's never had a relationship before, so it's hard for her."
"You've never had a close relationship before either," my mom points out. "You're a serial dater."
"Yes, that's true. But the difference is I had amazing role models in my parents. I may not have experienced a real relationship with commitment, trust, loyalty, and love, but I've watched you for twenty-seven years and I have a good idea of how it's supposed to go. Stephanie has absolutely no frame of reference. Mom, when I tell you she was neglected, I don't mean physically. She grew up in a wealthy household, but her parents didn't pay attention to her at all. She may have had gourmet food in her belly and designer clothes on her back, but she has no concept of that original type of love we're supposed to learn from our parents."
"That's terrible," my mom whispers, and I can see tears of empathy for Stephanie welling.
"I just want you not to be upset if she's not overly warm," I explain to her. "Don't pressure her on things, and try not to go overboard with your involvement in the pregnancy. Let her reach out to you for what she needs, which probably will not be at all."
"I hate this for you," my mom murmurs. "Just hate it. It's not how I wanted your role as a parent to be. I wanted you to have love along with it."
Pushing up out of my chair, I go to my mom and squat down before her chair. I put my hands on her knees and give her a reassuring smile. "I want something more with Stephanie and I'm going to try to get it. But it's going to be a slow process, and I'm a patient man. I want you to be patient too, and it will all work out the way it's supposed to, and I'll know that I've done everything in my power to make it happen."
My mom gives me a misty-eyed smile and p
uts her fingers in my hair brush to it off my forehead. Her eyes roam over my face. "How did you get to be so wise? You're making my job obsolete."
Laughing, I tell her, "I had good instructors. You and Dad are pretty fantastic at your parental jobs."
"Okay," she says as she pulls her hand away from me. "I'm going to sit back and let you run this show, as long as you promise me that you'll be careful not to get hurt."
"I promise," I say without hesitation, but only so she's assured. There's a real chance I'm going to get hurt if Stephanie can't let her walls down completely, but my mom doesn't need to be burdened with that.
"Let's go back inside," I say as I stand up and hold my hand out to her. "Stephanie will be here soon."
My mom lets me pull her up from the chair and we start walking back up to the house. "So we're done talking about this, huh?"
"For now," I tell her as I squeeze her hand.
"What should we talk about then?" she quips.
"Let's talk about how bad your daughter is," I return evilly, knowing the best way to get heat off me is to throw it onto Simone, and I don't feel guilty in the slightest.
Mom grimaces and groans, "That girl. I don't know what I'm going to do with her."
"Well, you can't kill her," I tell her seriously. "Max, Malik, and I won't let that happen."
"Oh hush," she chastises with a light slap to my stomach. I do a pretend "ooph" like it hurt. "Your father and I aren't going to kill her, but we are going to make her pay. Oh, how we're going to make her pay."
"She'll be in debt to you forever," I say with a laugh.
"Yup," she agrees. "Unless she goes back to finish her degree."
"I think she will."
My mom comes to a halt and turns to me with hopeful eyes. "Has she told you that?"
I shake my head. "But Simone is a bright girl. Smartest out of all your kids, truthfully. She's just flexing her muscles a little bit and figuring out her life. Maybe even rebelling a little. But I'd lay money on the fact she'll go back at some point."
"God, I hope so," my mom says wistfully. "We don't care if she doesn't want to go to medical school, but she's so close to that bachelor's degree. It would be such a waste."
"Agreed, and Simone knows that too," I assure her. "My advice is to let it play out and don't pressure her. She'll figure it all out eventually."
"I'm not sure what to make out of this mature, wiser Lucas Fournier," my mom teases as we walk up the staircase to the back deck. "You're just so damn self-assured about everything that I'm feeling useless."
"Never," I say with a laugh. "Just wait until I'm up to my elbows in baby shit and puke. I'll be in full-blown panic mode."
"I cannot wait to see that," my mom says with a laugh as we hit the top of the deck.
I smile but don't say anything. I can't wait to see it either.
Chapter 20
Stephanie
"Come on, ref," Simone yells at the top of her lungs as she bangs her fists on the glass. "Open your eyes, you moron. That was hooking."
I snicker along with Jules, who's sitting beside me as the Cold Fury whiz down the ice on a power play. My eyes focus across the ice to the players' bench and I take a peek at Lucas. He just came off his shift and is sitting forward with one hand on the board, watching the game intently.
It's such a thrill watching him play. Knowing that this gorgeous, smart, and caring guy who happens to be an accomplished professional hockey player wants me. It's even hotter how much he wants this baby growing in my belly.
I turn my head and look down the row. Next to me is Jules, then Simone's seat, followed by her mom and dad. We all rode here together to watch game five against Florida, after we spent a nice time talking over hamburgers and hot dogs Max grilled. The kids are being watched by the neighbor and were sorely disappointed they couldn't come. Max promised them tickets for the next home game, though, and they were semisatisfied.
The dinner was low pressure, and Luc's parents are very sweet and totally over the moon about the baby. I know his mother was reining in her enthusiasm, because several times she'd start to gush about baby clothes, or a book on how to breast feed, but one look from Lucas and she shut it down. She's just bursting apart ready to be a grandma, and while I find it sweet, it's also completely foreign.
In a fascinating way, that is.
There is no doubt I want Lucas and his family to have a relationship with this child, but I'll have to admit, it's hard sharing this experience because I'm so used to doing everything on my own. Still, his entire family is as easy to like as Luc is, and while I might have difficulty sharing, I'm going to try, because Luc has shown me I can let people close to me without being disappointed.
Plus, he's almost convinced me that I'm actually likable. That I'm worthy.
That's saying a lot coming from me, as I've been made to feel unworthy pretty much my entire life, and if that doesn't fuck with someone's sense of value, I don't know what will.
"Simone, sit down for God's sake," Marilyn says in exasperation as she tugs at the bottom of Simone's jersey. She's wearing Lucas's jersey tonight, as am I. Jules is obviously wearing Max's jersey, and her parents split their loyalties between the kids. Marilyn's wearing Max's and Laurence has on Lucas's.
Simone turns to her mom in a huff and complains, "Those refs are making some bad calls."
Her mom laughs. "And what do you want me to do about it?"
"Get up here and yell with me," Simone demands, and to my surprise--and delight--Marilyn pops out of her seat and starts banging on the glass next to Simone. There's only less than a minute left in the first period, but that doesn't curb their enthusiasm.
"She's great, isn't she?" Jules says with a nudge of her shoulder against mine.
I move my gaze from the glass to Jules. "Yeah...really nice and down to earth."
"It took awhile for me to get used to how close they all were," she continues. "I never had that growing up. Mom died when I was young, and Dad was a long-distance truck driver who was never around. My older sister took care of me, but she died too. It was hard learning how to accept people worrying about you."
Her words are pointed, and I know directed solely at me, not a reflection of her life. And while I appreciate what she's trying to do, I don't forget that we are still apples and oranges. Lucas filled me in on Jules and how she met Max, and while her life was missing parental guidance like mine, she had something I didn't, and that was love. At least her dad loved her, and she had a sister who loved her a lot. Now she has Max and his family, and I watched them at lunch today. She may not be married into the family yet, but they treat her as if she is, and that's because Jules is open and accepting. She knows how to accept kindness and care. She treats concern as a gift to be cherished, while I am suspicious of it.
I swear to God I'm really trying to learn from her and Luc and everyone, really, but it's hard to let go of twenty-eight years of being conditioned that I'm not worthy of love and care. I'm guessing Lucas filled his parents in about some of my insecurities, because they've been treating me with kid gloves, which I do appreciate. But I really hope they have the same patience with me that Luc does, because I don't want to alienate them. I know his allegiance will be to them, as it should be, and I don't want to lose him if I were to push them away.
"It's hard letting people in, but I'm trying my hardest," I painfully admit to Jules. "I want this to be easy on everyone, but I am way out of my element here."
"Want my opinion?" she asks me hesitantly, and I'm nodding at her before she even finishes her words. I'll take any advice that I can to make things work for everyone involved. "You protect yourself so tightly against getting hurt you could miss something really amazing, and the really something amazing I'm talking about is Luc. You're going to have a baby, and you're going to have the emotional support of the entire Fournier family regardless of what happens between you and Luc. But you stand to lose him if you can't take a little bit of a risk with your heart."
My stomach cramps from her words and I whisper to her, "I know."
I know very well that my inability to fully open up could cost me probably the most important person I've ever had in my life.
There was a time my freshman year of college when I was really struggling. Despite having no relationship with my parents for eighteen years, I was floundering that first year away from them as an adult. Although the net of being under their care as a minor was filled with holes, it was a safety net at least. I was overwhelmed with all sorts of doubts and insecurities that first year away from home, and I went to see one of the campus counselors.
It didn't take long for me to figure out through some soul-baring sessions that I felt entirely unlovable. That there was something so awful about me that I couldn't even entice my parents to love their child, that I knew I was destined to be alone forever. That was a tremendously formative year for me, because it was where I realized that I was going to make my way through life alone. I knew deep in my heart that no one could ever truly care for someone as unworthy as me, so I wasn't ever going to put myself in a position for someone to thoroughly reject me the way my parents had.
Of course, that counselor tried his damndest to get me to see my reasoning was flawed. And the smart and practical part of me could understand why I was the way I was. I'd read enough to know that what my parents did to me was devastating to my emotional growth and development. I was reasonable enough to know that I was really, really fucked up and broken.
It never really daunted me. Didn't sadden me. It was what it was and I adapted. I became strong. I relied on the one person I knew could never let me down, and that was me.
That's just the way my life was until Lucas Fournier came along. And now my entire foundation has been shaken to the core, and I don't know who I am anymore.
One thing I do know is that I've let him in further than I thought was even possible, and if I lose what we have, I know it would be a devastation that would cut away a part of my soul that he's had a huge role in healing.
And yet that still doesn't overcome my fear of being hurt even worse if he were to abandon me at some point. While I know it's wrong, my psyche tells me to push him away before I can get hurt, and yet I don't want to lose him at all. I am so fucked up in the head over this, I wonder if perhaps there comes a point where a person is so broken they can't ever be glued back together again.