Chapter Ten: “Believe”

Saturday, July 15, 2006 - Justin’s P.O.V.

There’s only one week to go before my due date. I’m excited, but I’m so fucking scared. I know that I’ll be a good father to Emma. But it’s such a huge life-changing experience and I wonder if I’m really ready for it. My mother says that no one can be prepared for how much a new baby will change their lives; even if they’ve had ten before. I try to take that wisdom to heart and mind, but the nightmares I’ve had practically every night since I was told the truth about Robbie and Mica have been making my fears worse.

My mother apologized and seems to apologize to me in some way, each time she sees me. But once she explained to me how she had been working on a plan to help me and sending me to Andrea’s home was part of that, I had no other choice but to forgive her. Yes, she hurt me by not standing up for me and my child right away, but she’s here now and I’m so happy she and Molly came to Ireland. She’s been so supportive of Brian and me. I never would’ve thought she’d handle it all so well, but she’s surpassed all of my expectations and I feel so much stronger having her in our corner. Losing Betsy left a big hole in Brian’s heart, and mine too, but little by little my mother’s relationship with him has grown and is helping to ease his pain.

I wish Robbie’s intentions on coming here really would’ve been what he told my mother. I’ll never leave Brian, he’s my husband and I love him more than I ever knew I could love anyone. I wish this was the truth because it’d make everything so much easier on me. I wouldn’t lie awake at night struggling to think positively so that I can go back to sleep and not have another nightmare.

Brian and I went to the hotel they were staying in and confronted them that evening after my mother arrived. They made their intentions completely clear. They want to take my baby away from me. Robbie spouted off the legalities and his rights while waving around a judge’s order that was supposed to bring make me go back to the United States.

We did not want to be forced to go to the Embassy and deal with a bunch of paperwork that would probably take too long to stop the order. So Brian and I went to Shanna and told her the truth of the situation between us. I was only a month from my due date at the time and Shanna didn’t think it was safe for me to travel. She bought us time by writing up a recommendation to the court urging them to let me stay in Ireland because she felt that I would be putting my child’s and my health at risk if I travelled. She may have over-exaggerated my exhaustion and high blood pressure, but I’m not complaining and I’ll be forever grateful for her doing so.

Her letter only buys us time though. I may be forced to go back once the baby is born. I know Brian will do everything he can to see that doesn’t happen and at that point we will go to the Embassy for help. Brian’s hired a team of the best lawyers here in Ireland. He also has two on retainer in the America who are awaiting the outcome of the baby’s paternity.

We packed a couple suitcases already, they sit inside the hall closet which I refuse to open since we placed them in there. I hope I never have to use them. If Robbie is Emma’s biological father, then we’ll have to abide by the court order and return to the U.S. where we will then fight for custody.

“Hey, you okay?”

I jump, startled by Brian coming up behind me. I drop the bowl I was washing into the soapy water and turn around to face him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’ve been washing that bowl for five minutes,” he says, trying to mask his worry with amusement.

I walk across the kitchen, grab a paper towel off the roll, dry my hands and toss it in the trash when I’m done. I don’t want to talk about this with him because I don’t want him to know how scared I am. He’s being amazing and so strong, I don’t want him to worry even more than I know he is. “It was just another one of those pregnancy day dreams,” I fib.

He gives me a look that tells me he’s not convinced of my statement. “Why don’t you go take a nap and I’ll finish the dishes?”

“Molly and Mom’s plane is landing in an hour. I want to go with you to pick them up.” They flew out to Paris two weeks ago to spend some time with Andrea, came back here for a few days and then went back to the states so my mom could settle thing up with my father and the business.

“Fine, but I’m going to finish the dishes. You need to go relax,” Brian urges me.

“I don’t like that you’ve been doing all the work around here, Brian. I want to do something. I promise you, I don’t feel so tired today.” The last two weeks I’ve spent practically every waking moment feeling tired and worn out. The Braxton-hicks contractions have been nearly constant, only adding to my agitation at night and making me tired through out the day. The only thing that brings me any relief is making love with Brian, or lying on our bed with a large heating pad behind my back and one on my feet. I feel much better today though, so at the very least, I want to help to some of the chores around the apartment.

“Okay, but do something much more relaxing than dishes. Why don’t you hang up the new baby clothes your mom bought? They should be finished drying by now.”

“Fine,” I acquiesce. There’s something exciting and relaxing about preparing Emma’s room and hanging up all her clothes. I can’t wait to see her dressed in them all. My mother says that we’ll be doing a load of laundry each day because of how much she’ll probably spit up or poop through onto her clothes. I’m not looking for to that. Brian is adamant that we hire a housekeeper, but I want to at least try and see if we can do it all without one.

“That’s a good idea,” I tell him and give Brian a kiss before walking out of the kitchen and down to the hall to the laundry room. I open the dryer and grab the spectacle of tiny, soft, sweet smelling pastel clothes from the dryer, throw them into a wicker basket, and take them into Emma’s room.

Every time I walk in here, I have to smile. I can hardly believe that Brian decorated this beautiful room. He did this for me, for Emma, and without even knowing that I would stay with him and at the time, not having a clue that it was possible Emma was biologically his child. This room is a testament to the kind of man Brian is inside and out. He’s loyal, caring and such a hard worker.

I fold and hang up all the tiny pieces of clothing and I’m just finishing when Brian calls to me, reminding me of the time. “What’s that smell?” I ask, walking into the living area. I see a covered pan sitting on a wire rack on top of the Island.

“It’s a tea cake,” Brian tells me. He grabs me into his arms when I make a beeline toward the delicious smelling cake. “You can’t eat it yet,” he laughs. “I haven’t even frosted it.”

“Oh, come on,” I say sweetly. “Please. It smells so good.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “Emma is so hungry, Da’. She needs to eat.”

Brian rolls his eyes and takes my hand. He opens the fridge and gets me out a small Tupperware bowl filled with vanilla pudding. “Grab a spoon and eat this in the car.”

“I can’t believe you made a cake, vanilla pudding and finished washing dishes in under an hour!” I say completely surprised at him.

“It was a quick recipe,” he says smiling. “Come on, Dealramh no gréine, we don’t want your mom worrying if we’re late.”

***

3rd Person P.O.V.

“You’re sure you don’t mind us staying here, Brian?” Jennifer asked.

“I’m sure, Jennifer. This place now belongs to Justin as much as it does me. You and Molly are welcome to stay here as long as you want. If Justin and I do decide to move out here permanently, it probably won’t be for some time. Even then, we’d like for you and Molly to stay, the castle is certainly big enough for all of us.”

“I love it,” Molly said dreamily. She flopped onto her canopy bed and wiggled around. “I feel like a princess here.”

“Technically, now that your brother and I are married, your official title is “Lady Miss, Molly Taylor.”

Molly sat up and stared at her brother in awe. “How could you not tell me that!”

Justin laughed. “I wasn’t aware that in-laws got titles too.”

“Lady Mum, Jennifer Taylor,” Brian bowed at his mother in law.

Jennifer rolled her eyes at Brian. “That’s going to take some getting used to. You’d better just call me, Mom.”

Brian, caught off guard from the request blushed. “I will,” he spoke softly and then cleared his tight throat. “I usually ignore the title thing myself; unless I’m attending a formal event, everyone I know in Dublin usually addresses me as Mr. Kinney or Brian, except my relatives who tease me about it.”

“Whose room was this?” Molly asked. “Did another little girl live here?” She looked around at the magical looking, deep purple wallpapered room.

“My mother lived here,” Brian, said softly.

“Did your mother die?” Molly asked boldly.

“Yes,” Brian whispered.

Justin walked beside Brian and squeezed his clammy hand. “How 'bout we show you to your room, Mom?” he said, changing the subject. Brian was visibly upset and he knew that his husband was on the verge of tears.

“Thank you, Justin.” Jennifer looked at her son worriedly, afraid that her daughter upset Brian. It had only been a month since his grandmother’s passing, she didn’t know anything about Brian’s mother but she could tell that it pained him to be reminded of her.

She watched as her son cupped Brian’s face and stared into his eyes. Words passed between the two men, without either of them saying anything. Brian gave Justin a small smile, one that her son gave a loving kiss. Brian’s expression of sadness immediately changed to one of tender love.

Jennifer knew that whatever it was that brought her son and Brian together, it had to be part of a miracle. She was no fool, Jennifer knew that Brian Kinney loved her son and her son loved him just as much. It was apparent to her that Brian needed Justin as much as her son needed him.

“Brian, this room is beautiful, thank you.” Jennifer said stepping foot into the large guest room that Brian had prepared for her.

“I had this room redecorated. Justin helped us find some items we hope suit your tastes,” he spoke hopefully.

“It does, thank you. It’s perfect.” Jennifer first hugged Justin and then Brian. “This place will be a wonderful start to Molly and my new life.”

“I still can’t believe Dad was so…”

“Stupid?” Jennifer interrupted her son. “He made his own bed and now Molly and I don’t have to worry about him anymore. I’ve washed my hands clean of that life, Justin. My cousin Gregory bought my shares from me so it’s not as though the business isn’t still in the family. But now, it’s in the right hands and Molly and I are in the right place.”

“I’m glad you and Molly came here, Mom.”

“I’m just glad you’ve forgiven me.” Jennifer looked her son in the eyes. “I love you, Justin and you will always be my child. I will do whatever I can to protect you and Molly. I’m only sorry that that I listened to Craig and Eleanor in the first place. I just had to buy some time to figure out how to help you and still see that Molly would be okay, too.”

“It’s in the past now, Mom and I was an adult, even if I was still your son, you had a daughter to think about too. What’s important now is that we’re all going to be a family and we’ll all stick together from here on out.” Justin rubbed his stomach and smiled. “Emma’s kicking, so I think she agrees.”

“Yes, we will,” Jennifer agreed, a wondrous smile spreading over her beautiful face.

“Justin and I are going to get home,” Brian cut into the conversation. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a key chain. “Here’s the key’s to the car in the garage. The fridge is stocked and there are some frozen meals in the freezer if you don’t feel like cooking.”

“Okay, thank you both again,” Jennifer replied, taking the keys. “Call me if anything happens.”

“We will,” Justin assured his mother.

***

Brian’s P.O.V.

“Out with it,” I say once we step in the door. Justin was quiet the drive back to the apartment and I know that means one thing. He’s afraid to ask me something.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he tells me, sitting down on the couch.

“Just ask.” I sit down beside him.

“You know practically everything about me, Brian. I love that. But I still don’t know everything about you.”

“I see.” I’ve wanted to tell Justin this for some time, but after Móraí passed away I sort of felt like I’d be betraying her if I even spoke of my biological mother. “You want to know about my mom?”

“I want to know how you came to live with Betsy,” Justin elaborates. “She told me very little about your past, Brian. Mostly it was about your short relationship wit Brogan.”

“Betsy has it written down in journals. One day you can read them, they’re in the trunk in the studio.”

“I’d like to, Brian. But I want you to tell me. I just want to know a little bit, please?” He bats his eyelashes at me and smiles brightly, knowing I can’t refuse him when he does that.

“It’s a long story,” I warn.

“That’s fine, Brian. I just want to know something about the man I married’s past that comes from his lips. You know everything about me, I’m an open book to you. You’ve shared your present life with me, but I’d like to hear to hear about your past, about what made you the man I love. Whatever it is, I want to know.” Justin places his hands in mine and only then do I realize my own are shaking.

The last person I told this to was Brogan. Years later, during our break up, if you can call it that, Brogan informed me that I was born a bastard and he hoped I’d die one as well. I know of course that Justin would never, ever look down at me or hurt me with the truth, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I suppose I should start at the beginning.

“When my grandmother married my grandfather, she was only fifteen. My grandfather was twenty-seven. She married him because both of her parents and her older sister and brother in law were killed in a car accident. That was Kathleen’s mom and dad. Her father’s parents raised her, John and Laura. My grandmother didn’t know how to run the family’s estate though it was left to her to tend to. At the time, they owned a lot of the farmland around the estate and she hadn’t been prepared to run the business that came out of it. She knew that if she didn’t find someone to help her, she’d probably loose everything. She was a Duchess, which the title would remain even if she were penniless, but she didn’t want my family’s history to dissolve because she had no clue about farming.

“Patrick, my grandfather, was the foreman of the farm. He was smart and always kind to her, so she asked him to marry her. During a short courtship, they fell in love. Nine months after their wedding my mother, Joan was born. My grandmother went through seven miscarriages after Joan, but wasn’t able to carry another child. Patrick and Betsy spoiled my mom, or so Kathleen once told me.

“Kathleen planned a trip to America to visit some Universities she wanted to attend after her final year of school. She invited my mother to go with her even though she was too young to go off to college yet. My Mom’s 14th birthday was in August of that year and she convinced my parents to allow her to spend the summer in America with Kathleen for her gift.

“My parents trusted Kathleen; she’d helped take care of her younger siblings while growing up so they were sure that she would be able to keep an eye on my mother. There was a family in New York that offered their home to Kathleen and my mother for their stay. The father was a Professor at the college Kathleen was looking to attend. My grandmother thought that Joan had good sense and would have a wonderful summer with Kathleen.

“But Kathleen called them a few weeks after they arrived wanting them to make Joan return to Ireland. She told them that Joan had been acting reckless and had snuck out of the home to attend a dance and she’d caught her kissing a much older boy. They’d planned to send my mother back home the next day. But the next morning Joan was gone. She left a note saying that she was going to marry a man named Jack. Kathleen didn’t even know the guy. The boy she’d seen my mother kissing had a different name, so there was no way to track him down.

“Betsy flew to America and for weeks, they tried to find her but had no idea where she’d gone. Kathleen and the hosting family blamed themselves but it wasn’t their fault. Joan had deceived them. A week after Betsy got to America, she received a phone call from Ireland. Patrick had a heart attack and had died. Kathleen and my grandmother didn’t want to, but they left America to come back and bury him.

“Afterward, Kathleen went back to the States and began her first semester of school. The family she’d stayed with agreed to let her stay there the first year and everyone hoped that somehow my mother would turn up. Meanwhile, my Grandmother was in Ireland, selling off the farm land and trying to live, despite the fact that the man she loved the most in the world had died and her only child was missing, lost in another country.”

“I knew Betsy was a strong woman. But I had no idea how strong she truly was,” Justin whispers to me. “Your Mom did come back right? I mean, you’re here.”

“Yeah, she showed up at the house Kathleen was staying at hoping that the family would be able to help her. She was sick and had a horrible infection. This guy, Jack, he took her to some guy who said he was a doctor. He told her that he gave her an abortion, but a month or so later, she realized that the man botched the procedure. Jack abandoned her once he realized this and so Joan went to find Kathleen. She was sick, but still flew home to be with my grandmother once she heard about Patrick’s death. The infection from the botched operation spread quickly and she became bedridden and was barely lucid. She gave birth to me and died a few hours later.”

“I’m so sorry, Brian,” Justin says passionately. He kisses my cheeks and his lips absorb my tears.

“At least I lived,” I tell him.

Justin’s eyes widen. “She wasn’t full term?”

“No. Somehow, I was just fine. The doctors couldn’t believe it, but after they checked me over, they allowed me to stay with my grandmother. The only thing wrong with me was that I’d been born prematurely, but I developed just fine. I beat the odds, twice. Betsy has some pictures somewhere. I’ll have to get them out after Emma’s born so we can see if we look anything alike. Though with those adorable pictures of you your mom brought us, I think Emma would be just fine to inherit all her looks from you.”

Justin smiles at me and asks, “You don’t have any doubts do you?”

“I don’t,” I tell him, not hesitating. “I can feel it, Justin. Call it Irish magic, call me crazy, but I knew it that first day you showed up on my doorstep. I fought my intuition and I made myself believe that the reason I felt that way for Emma was because I was so in love with you. But I know that you and I made her.”

“All the lawyers, all the meetings with Robbie and Mica, that’s all…”

“Because you, because they doubt it,” I interrupt him. He looks away from me, but I take his face in my hands and turn him to look at me. “That’s not the only reason. I know you don’t doubt it that much. It’s also to scare the shit out of that little weasel. I want him to know that no matter what he thinks will happen, that I will be the father to our baby, not him.”

“I love you,” Justin tells me in a soft breath. “I wish she’d just get here so that we could get that stupid test ran and Robbie would go away. But, I also want her to wait a long time because then I can keep her with me, with us, and she won’t have a chance to be with him. They only want her so that Robbie and Mica can have their money. I know that. No matter what they say!”

“Shh,” I tell him. “Calm down. We’ll know what we have to do, soon enough. I’m Emma’s father. We’ll be her parents and God willing, Emma will be our first of many children.”

“So you want a big Irish family, Brian?”

I run my hands through his hair and a million hopes for our future together explode into my heart. “Well one heir just won’t do,” I laugh.

He giggles and slides his body so he sits on my lap. He kisses my lips and whispers against them. “It’s a shame I’m already pregnant, otherwise we could’ve started on the next one now.”

“Well, maybe we should try anyway,” I mock and claim his mouth with mine.

***

Justin’s P.O.V.

“Brian, they’re not stopping. I’m not so sure they’re the Braxton Hicks contractions.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“Does it hurt, being inside me? They seem really strong.”

“No,” he gasps, sliding back into me. My muscles ripple involuntarily around his penis. “It feels amazing.”

I try to settle back against Brian and to concentrate on the pleasure I get every time his cock slides over my prostate. I close my eyes so that I only feel his actions. Brian’s hot breath against the crook of my neck, his whispers of bliss upon my skin and the sensation of his strong arm, tucked under my left leg, holding it up while he strokes my dick with his hand and continues to slide in and out of me slowly. It all becomes the only thing that my mind is able to be aware of. I float off into a lazy, but still intense orgasm.

Brian’s spit on my shoulder cools to the air and alerts me to reality as I come down from my pleasure. He’s gasping and talking dirty as he slides his cock from within my hole. It sends shivers up and down my spine.

He lowers my leg and rolls away from me, panting breathlessly. “Come on, Justin, let’s take a shower.”

I grumble a protest but I’m pretty sticky and sweaty and I definitely don’t want to fall asleep like this. I hold my hand out and he helps me get out of the bed. I’m still coming down from the euphoria of my climax and I know Brian is too.

Brian soaps and washes my body, kissing and licking some of the clean spots as he goes. I return the favor to the upper half of his body, squirt some shampoo in my palms, and start to wash his hair. As soon as I suds his hair up I accidently pull it between my fingers when the strongest pain I’ve ever felt in my life hits me.

“Fuck! Sorry!” I cry out, pulling my hands away from Brian’s hair.

He turns around and opens his eyes, not caring that soap is practically dripping into them. “What is it?”

I spread my legs and look down at the shower floor. “Look.”

“Shit! That’s disgusting, Justin!” Brian’s face screws up in despair.

I almost laugh but it hurts too much to think about laughing 'cause I have to force myself to breathe as another pain hits me. “My water broke,” I gasp as the pain recedes a little. There is pinkish fluid slowly leaking down my leg and into the water and down the drain.

Brian runs his head under the water and rinses the shampoo from his hair quickly. When he’s finished, he moves me under the spray and I stand there, letting the hot water soothe me a little.

“Those were contractions,” he says. “All day, they’ve been real contractions.”

“Definitely,” I groan. Fuck do they hurt. And my back! My back feels like someone is stabbing me with a knife!

“Okay, I’m going to call Shanna and your mom. Can you stay in here for a few minutes?”

“Can you get me that plastic step stool from the kitchen and a couple towels to put on it? I want to stay in here until Shanna arrives.”

“Sure, mo grá,” he replies. He kisses my forehead and practically slips on the tile in the bathroom when he gets out of the shower in a rush.

“Be careful,” I yell. “I’m going to need you alive, you know?”

***

Sunday July 16, 2006

“The court order says we have to call him the day she’s born,” Brian reminds me, gently.

“I don’t want to. There’s no need to call him, Brian, look at her,” I say. I run my fingers over Emerald’s tiny little head. Her auburn hair is soft and already has a tiny curl to it. She looks identical to Brian. There’s no doubt in my mind. She is Brian’s child.

“Do you want him to get the phone call from the hospital after they get the tests done tomorrow morning? How would that look to the court if by some completely fucked up twist, she actually is his? You were ordered to call him and tell him the day that she is born, Justin.”

“But she’s not. You saw her eyes when she looked at me. Her eyes are yours, her nose is yours, she’s yours and mine and I don’t want Robbie to spoil that. He has no right.”

“But the courts may think he does, Justin,” my mother comments sadly. “I see it too. But that doesn’t mean we you can go against the orders.”

“Shanna promised to have her friend in the lab work on the swabs all night until they get a result. She promised,” Brian says desperately. “He can’t come over here to see her. He’ll never ever, have to see her. But we’ve got to…”

“Fine,” I interrupt him. “Brian?”

“I’ll do it,” he says. He kisses me and stands up from the bed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to take a walk around the block and smoke a cigar while I make the phone call. Is that alright?”

“Yeah… I love you, Brian.”

Brian leans over us and kisses Emma’s cheek and then mine. “I love you both.”

Brian leaves us and Mom sits down on the bed beside me. “I’m so proud of you, Justin.”

“You are?” I ask in disbelief.

“Of course I am. You’re an amazing parent to your daughter. It seems to come so naturally to you.”

I actually feel completely overwhelmed and I keep thinking that I’m going to do something that’s horribly wrong.

“I gave up on nursing you pretty quickly. It wasn’t the ‘done’ thing for ‘high society women’. My friends and family all told me it was bad for you. I never believed them, but it got too hard to keep doing it with what they were saying and I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing.”

“Me neither. Shanna said Emma’s a natural,” I say, proud of my daughter. That’s going to take some getting used to. I have a daughter! “Brian’s going to call a consultant though, just to make sure Emma’s getting enough food.” I’m pretty sure she is though. With the exception of the few minutes that Brian, Mom or Molly have held Emma, she’s constantly nursed from me. She’ll go from seven pounds to eight in a week if she keeps it up.

My mother and I talk for a few more minutes until Brian comes back inside looking slightly agitated. Mom makes sure I have everything I need close at hand before saying she has to leave. I stay in bed with Emma while she wakes Molly up from where she slept on the couch in the living room. Molly comes in and kisses both Emma and I goodbye. We make plans for my mom to bring us breakfast in the morning and they leave the apartment quickly.

Brian and I alone with our daughter for the first time.

“You tired?” Brian asks, coming into the bedroom after locking up the apartment.

“Biggest day of my life,” I say, yawning as I speak.

“Can I hold Emerald now?” Brian asks me, sitting down beside me on the bed.

I shift Emma around and she opens her eyes and whimpers. “That’s too bad little one. I can’t hold you every second of the day.”

Brian grins widely and holds out his strong arms and I place her in them. Seeing him hold Emma so gently and carefully in his arms causes a rush of emotion to build in my chest and tears spill out of my eyes. “You’re beautiful with her,” I choke out.

Brian smiles at me shyly as he rocks our daughter, Emerald Elizabeth, in his arms and in that moment, all doubts and fears I have fall away.

***

Monday July 17, 2006 - Brian’s P.O.V.

I grab Justin a bottle of water as soon as I finished making the needed phone calls. I expect to find him in our bedroom, but I don’t see him in there. Instead, he is in our daughter’s room, rocking her and humming softly. The light from the window cascades into the room; his blond hair shines and Emma’s curls look golden in the light.

“This is what I imagined,” I say softly.

Justin looks toward me and smiles a huge grin. He barely got any rest last night, or today, but he still looks bright and beautiful. “What?”

“This is what I imagined,” I repeat. I walk over to him and sit beside the chair on the floor. “Every second that I spent in this room, I imagined you, sitting in this chair, rocking our baby.”

He grabs my hand and looks me in the eyes. “Ever since I saw this room, I imagined that too. I imagined you singing to her as you rocked her. Will you sing her that song you wrote for us?”

“Your wish is my command, Duke Kinney,” I whisper. I keep my tone soft, my Irish lilt guides the song I’d dreamt of singing to my husband and my daughter.

***

Epilogue

December 24, 2006 - 3rd Person P.O.V.

Justin stood beside Brian, his arm wrapped around the taller man’s waist as they stared down at the marble stone. Brian held Emerald tightly inside his coat. She was bundled in a large snowsuit and cap, her small bonnet peaking out of the snowsuit along with her rapidly growing auburn curls.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring her out here to see you before,” Brian spoke, his voice teary. “I hope you understand. I just couldn’t do it because I was so heartbroken, Móraí. I miss you so much.”

“But we know you’ve been with us,” Justin added. He placed the bouquet of flowers onto Betsy’s stone. “Imagine our surprise when we came to visit my mom and saw these ‘Blue Bells of Ireland’ growing in your garden out back, amongst the blanket of snow.”

“I’m sure that was your way of telling us to bring your granddaughter for a visit,” Brian said. “She’s enchanting, isn’t she, Móraí?”

A warm rush of air swirled around Brian, Justin and Emerald.

Brian laughed. “I take it that you agree.”

***

October 29th 2008

“I can’t sleep,” Brian mumbled.

“Me neither,” Justin whispered back.

Brian cracked his eyes open and stared at Justin lying beside him. He nursed Emma while using a pillow propped behind her back as a table for his sketchpad. “Drawing me again?” Brian groaned.

“Shh…. she’s almost asleep.” He placed his drawing pad and pencil on the nightstand because he’d already drawn almost every part of the picture. There were only a few bits of shading left for the image and he could do that later.

Brian propped himself up on his arm and rubbed his hand over his moving stomach with the other and then reached over to rub Emma’s back lightly. “She grew up too fast.”

“Soon, our son will be her age,” Justin spoke softly. “But she’s not grown up yet.”

Brian brought his hand back to his stomach and winced. “You’d better go put Emma down in her bed and call Shanna. I don’t think it’s going to be much longer. The pains are getting worse and I can feel his foot right here.” He pressed onto a space near the top right side of his stomach. “He’s in position. I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, just give her a few more minutes,” Justin, whispered. “I want to make sure she’s out for the rest of the night. I’d rather her be asleep when you have Patrick. We don’t need her waking up in the middle of it.”

Brian turned onto his back and breathed out a long deep breath. “I’m so tired. I wish I could go back to sleep. I tried but I just couldn’t sleep through this pain.”

Justin wiped Brian’s bangs away from his eyes. “Believe me. I know what that’s like. It’ll get better though. Just breathe through them the way you know to do.”

Brian grabbed Justin’s hand and squeezed it, huffing and puffing his breaths as the peak of the contraction hit him. His voice shook with pain, “Justin, it fucking hurts.”

“It’s okay, Brian. Just keep breathing. You’ll be okay. That’s it.” Justin smiled proudly at his husband as the contraction passed. “Okay. I’m going to put Emerald in bed and call Shanna. I’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I should go to the hospital,” Brian said fearfully.

“Shh...” Justin rose from the bed, shifting Emma, who now soundly slept in his arms. “I’ll be right back and we can talk about that.” As quickly as Justin could, he brought Emma into her room down the hall.

Once he tucked Emma in, Justin walked down the stairs and knocked on his mother’s door. “Mom?” he called and opened her door.

“Is it time?” Jennifer asked, sitting upright. “Is he ready to push?” She quickly threw on her robe and slipped into her slippers.

“I think so, Mom. He woke up and he says the pains are stronger. The contractions are coming quick and the last one seemed very intense. Can you call Shanna for us? Brian really needs me right now. He’s sorta freaking and talking about going to the hospital. I remember hitting that wall where I knew Emma was coming and suddenly every worst-case scenario filled my head and I freaked out and wanted to go the hospital. He’s too close for that. I haven’t checked, but I’m pretty sure he’s ready to have Patrick in the next few minutes.”

“I’ll call Shanna,” Jennifer told her son. She hugged him and they walked into the hall. “It’s a good thing she lives just down the road. You go back to Brian. Should I get Molly up to tend to Emma?”

“No. I just nursed her and put her to sleep in her room. I think the only reason Emma got up tonight is that she felt our excitement all day today. She should sleep at least until eight in the morning.”

“Okay sweetheart, go on up to Brian. I’ll be up there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

***

Six Hours Later

“Mo’ mac,” Brian said softly, brushing one finger along Patrick’s soft cheek. He reached out and touched Emma’s curly hair. “M'iníonacha.”

“Da’ had Baby,” Emma said for the tenth time in as many seconds.

“Yes Da’ had Baby,” Justin told his daughter from the across the bedroom. He searched relentlessly through the drawer under the changing table.

“Say, Patrick, Emma,” Brian told his two year old. “That’s his name.”

Brian and Justin both referred to their child as Patrick ever since the ultrasound at fourteen weeks revealed the baby’s sex. Emma however, always referred to her Father’s growing belly as ‘Baby’.

“Baby,” Emma said. She stared down at the dark haired baby held securely in Brian’s arms. Her chubby hand reached out and she gently touched Patrick’s soft blue and white striped pajama covered arm. “Baby, Patpick,” the little girl spoke, her voice proud. “He’s mine, Daddy?”

“He’s all of ours, Emma,” Justin answered her. “Ah ha! I found it!” He walked over to the bed and sat beside Brian. “I knew I had it in one of the drawers.”

“He’s going to look silly in that thing,” Brian grumbled.

“Our daughter wore this and you wore this,” Justin chastised, smiling. He unfolded the fabric and held it out so Emma could see it. “You wore this the day you were born, Emma, and for some time after.”

“Mine heads too big, Daddy!” Emma laughed.

“It is now,” Brian said. “But when you were little your head was even smaller than Patrick’s head is.”

“Wow!” Emma said. “I forgitted that.”

Brian and Justin laughed at their little girl. Their eyes locked and they shared a smile.

“Can I hold our son?” Justin asked.

“I suppose. After all, when he sees the pictures of him in the bonnet, which boys are not supposed to wear, he’ll see that you were the one that put it on him. Isn’t that right Lord Patrick?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You wore it, Brian.”

Brian groaned and carefully handed Justin their son. “Móraí dressed me in some of the most horrendous outfits. As a child I swore I wouldn’t let such a fate befall my son.”

Patrick whimpered and buried his face into Justin’s chest as though he agreed with his Da’. “Betsy would want to see him in this, Brian,” the blond said in a gentle voice.

Brian closed his eyes, trying to fight tears.

Justin kissed away the few trails of wetness that fell down his husband’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Brian,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Brian opened his eyes and wiped them with the backs of his hands. He looked at his daughter whose attention was wrapped up in watching her little brother. He then looked at Justin, holding his child and felt more tears rush into his eyes. “I remember you cried a lot.”

Emma whipped her head toward Brian. “Da’, you sad?”

“No mo páiste, I’m crying happy tears.” He wiped his eyes again. “Come here and sit on my lap while Daddy puts that bonnet on Patrick. It’s been a long time since I could cuddle with you.”

Emma gave Brian a bright smile, crawled between his legs and put one hand on his belly. “Is more babies in dere, Da’?” she asked innocently

Justin huffed a quick laugh but didn’t dare look at Brian. A smile curved on his lips.

“No,” Brian answered his innocent daughter. “There was only one baby. It’ll be a few months before my belly goes back to how it used to be, Emma,” Brian explained. His daughter’s wise attitude and blunt talk reminded him so much of himself, he couldn’t find it in him to care about what she said. He’d work damn hard to get his body back in shape and hoped it wouldn’t take the ‘months’ he told her it would.

“Patpick’s cuuuuute,” Emma giggled once Justin tied the bonnet onto the baby’s head.

Justin held Patrick and bounced the squirming baby bundle gently. “Yes, he is cute.”

“He was cuter in the hat that matched his pajamas,” Brian said, rolling his eyes. He smiled at Justin and put his finger into Patrick’s hand. “You’re still cute, Patrick.”

Jennifer peaked her head around the bedroom door. “Can I come in?” she asked.

“Sure,” Brian answered.

“Oh, Mom, can you take a picture of all of us? My camera’s there on top of the dresser.”

“Sure honey. I actually came in to see if you might like for me to do that now that Emma’s awake.”

“I’s a wakey Móraí’,” Emma told her grandmother. “Ize gots Baby now.”

Jennifer laughed. “You are too smart for your own good, darling.”

Three of the Kinneys smiled as Jennifer took a few pictures. As soon as his grandmother finished the littlest Kinney let out a tiny soft cry.

“Shh,” Justin cooed to his son. “It’s okay.” Patrick stopped crying but continued to move around in his Daddy’s arms.

“He’s hungry,” Brian said, noticing Patrick burying his head close to Justin’s chest, searching for food. He kissed Emma’s chubby cheek. “Go downstairs with Grandma, Iníon.”

Emma pouted. “Don’t wanna.”

“Molly’s making you breakfast,” Jennifer said, trying to lure her granddaughter. “She’s making blueberry waffles. I bet they’re ready!”

Emma smiled a bright sunshine smile. “Yummy!”

Jennifer went beside the bed and lifted her granddaughter into her arms. “Come on, big sister. Da’s going to feed your baby brother now 'cause he needs his breakfast too.”

“Da’ can’t do it!” Emma laughed. “Only Daddy.”

“Da’ can do it now,” Justin told his daughter, handing his son to Brian.

“That’s funny,” Emma, said her tone thoughtful.

“I’ll bring you guys up some food in a little while,” Jennifer told them.

Brian grimaced. “No waffles. I’ve got to start losing the baby weight.”

Justin smirked. “You’ll lose weight if you’re nursing Brian. You have to have a lot of calories to keep up your strength.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll have some waffles. But only butter on them, please. No syrup.”

“Sure, Brian.” Jen smiled and left the room, Emma in tow.

“So you gonna show me how to do this?” Brian asked.

Justin nodded and moved his body closer to Brian’s so they both had their backs against the headboard. “Just try how you think first.”

Brian lifted his shirt and moved Patrick to his nipple. Patrick started to cry out as he searched for the food he instinctively smelled but couldn’t find. “He doesn’t want it.”

Justin positioned his son at a better angle in Brian’s arms and as soon as he did, Patrick began to feed. “There you go.”

“Fuck. This hurts,” Brian hissed. “Something’s wrong.” He started to pull his son away from him.

Justin put his hands over Brian’s and brought the whimpering baby back to his father. “Nothing’s wrong. That’s just how it feels.”

Brian looked at Justin worriedly. “All the time?”

Justin chuckled. “Wait till they get raw, chapped and it hurts to pull on a t-shirt. You get used to it.”

Horrified, Brian looked at Justin in disbelief. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? You didn’t care when I’d touch them or…”

“It’s a different feeling, Brian. You’ll be okay.”

“I don’t think I want to do this,” Brian told his husband. The pain grew worse the harder his infant suckled.

“Brian, you’re the one that preached to me about all the benefits of it. You hired that consultant for me when I had Emma. You have to do it.”

“I’m only doing it until the colostrum is done. That’ll be in a few days. Then you can…”

“I don’t think so,” Justin interrupted him.

“Well you’re already doing it, Justin. It’s different.”

“We agreed that I’d help at night and in the morning when you went back to work. You were going to take care of Emma and Patrick while I went to school in the afternoon. You promised, Brian.”

“You can pump for them when you’re gone. “

“I can’t believe you’re being serious about this. It’s not really that bad.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Brian groaned, not meeting Justin’s eyes. He could feel the glare his husband was sending him chilling his skin.

“Give him to me,” Justin said quietly.

“What?” Brian’s eyes widened as he looked up at Justin.

“If you’re not going to continue this, why start now?”

“I just gave birth to a nearly nine pound baby a few hours ago and you’re starting a fight with me?”

Justin moved away from Brian and got out of the bed. He paced in front of it. “You’re telling me that you’re going back on our agreement. I can’t do it for both of them all the time. Maybe I should stop with Emma now. She’s two, right?”

“Stop it, Justin,” Brian warned.

“I don’t have to go back to school next semester. Patrick and Emma’s health is more important. There’s no way I could pump enough for the both of them at one time.”

“Parents who have twins do it,” Brian groaned. “Why can’t I change my mind?”

“Brian, you just had a baby and he is counting on you. I’m counting on you and so is Emma. You’re the one that suggested I get you pregnant before I finished school. We talked about all of this and…”

Brian burst out laughing, tears filling his eyes.

Justin stopped pacing, put his hands on his hips and leveled his gaze with Brian’s watery eyes. “What do you find funny?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think any of this is funny, Justin.” Brian held his hand out. “Please come back over here.”

Justin sighed reluctantly, walked toward the bed and asked, “Should I call Shanna and ask her to come back? Do you need to talk to someone?”

“Please, come here,” Brian whispered. He looked down at Patrick and smiled when Justin grasped his hand and sat down beside him. He looked up at his husband and blinked the tears out of his eyes. “I love you. I love our children, I’m sorry. I was scared, everything hit me and I feel so…”

“Shh.” Justin crawled to Brian’s side and put his arms around him.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me, Justin,” Brian whimpered. “I’m just feeling really scared.”

Justin kissed Brian’s forehead. “I love you, my silly Irish man. You don’t have to be scared. I should be sorry for yelling at you.”

“I feel so weird, Justin.”

“I know,” Justin whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

“It wasn’t just the pain. You know I can handle any kind of pain. I just gave birth to a baby without any medication. But when Patrick started nursing,” Brian spoke softly. “It was the beginning.”

“The beginning?” Justin asked, needing clarification.

“At that moment, he began to rely on me for everything and it started to freak me out but…”

“But Patrick has me too Brian. And my Mom, Molly and Emma. We all love him.”

“I know. I know, but I was scared because I don’t know if I’m going to do it as good as you.”

“There’s no competition,” Justin told him. “We both love our children the way we need to and they get tons of love from us. That’s all that matters, Brian.”

“I wanna do this,” Brian firmly spoke and ran his thumb over Patrick’s nose. “Am I doing ok?”

“You’re amazing, Brian. You’re amazing at anything you do. You might want to switch sides though.”

Brian moved his child around and turned his face toward Justin. He leaned into the blond, kissed his lips and lingered there for a moment. “Do you think my Móraí is with us?”

“You know she is. She’s probably giving our family an Irish blessing, right now.”

“Happy anniversary,” Brian said softly.

“It’s not our anniversary,” Justin told him.

“In two days it will be Halloween,” Brian reminded him.

“I never would have thought three years ago that I’d be here with you.”

“I wished you would be the moment I left you that morning. I guess I was lucky. What about you? If you could change…”

“I wouldn’t change anything, Brian,” Justin said. “I’d choose whatever path could lead me to you.”

“Around the time that I gave birth to Patrick was probably around the same time we made Emma,” Brian realized. “That’s weird.”

“It’s our good luck, Duke Kinney.”

“Yeah, you must be right, mo grá.”

“Da’? Daddy?” Emma slapped her hands against the large wood door. “Lemme in!”

Justin grinned. “Coming, My Lady.” He gave Brian a quick kiss, walked over to the door, and let his daughter into the room. Her curls bounced as she ran past Justin and climbed onto the bed.

“Careful,” Justin warned, picking her up into his arms before she crawled on top of Brian.

“I wanna hold Patpick,” she said sweetly.

Justin sat down on the bed beside Brian once again, holding Emma in his lap. “You have to wait till he’s done eating. He’s a hungry boy.”

“I’m full,” Emma declared.

“Were your waffles good?” Brian asked her.

“Yeah. Móraí makin’ yours now, Da’. Can I hold’em now?”

“Yeah, I think he’s full too. He’s almost asleep so we have to be very careful.”

“K, Da’.”

Justin put his arms under Emma’s so that he would support most of Patrick’s body weight. “Be gentle.”

Brian placed his child in his first-born child’s arms. His heart skipped a beat as he took in the whole image. Justin, his lover, the man he was bound to forever, held them both securely. He wished that Betsy could be there and see her hold his children. However, as soon as that thought passed through his head he heard her voice singing. It was a memory of a few lines from a blessing song, but he heard it as though she were standing beside them.

He held Justin’s hand that supported Patrick’s head. Their rings connected and Justin looked at Brian. Brian knew somehow, from the look on Justin’s face and the tears in his eyes, that Justin heard the blessing too.

These things, I warmly wish for you-

Someone to love, some work to do.

A bit of o' sun, a bit o' cheer.

And a guardian angel always near.

“I told you she is with us,” Justin whispered.

Tears fell against Brian’s cheeks but they were not tears of sorrow. Each one, reflected the light from the morning sun and Justin and his children’s faces smiling, one smiling for the very first time. The tears didn’t disappear, they settled, caught upon Brian’s upper lip, and the creases of his cheeks; absorbed by Brian’s own smile.

Above the master bedroom door, of an old large castle, hung a lover’s knot of binding rope. It had been a long time since the Irish castle had this gift adorning over its most sacred door. But with the spirit and guidance of a certain Irish angel, it would stay there, until it was time for the newest generation to hang their own.

THE END