This man, who so completely disapproved of my lifestyle, wanted to sign up.
"I'll talk to Reign," I assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "My word will go a long way. So as long as you don't change your mind, I figure you will have a weight off in a few days."
The numbers of the club were decent.
Reign didn't want to get much bigger.
But he would do this as a favor for me so long as Colson got through an interview and prospecting.
"I won't change my mind," he assured me with absolute certainty.
He didn't either.
I could see it the moment Reign handed him the cut.
The weight that got lifted from his shoulders, a weight he had been shouldering for years. Near poverty and single parenthood full of uncertainty and stress.
He wouldn't have to worry about money again.
About taking care of Jelly.
About not being able to get out of work when she was sick or off from school.
He was set.
Because he was now a Henchmen.Freddie - 10 years"Rune, get your turtle off your plate."
Motherhood, it seemed, consisted of sleepless nights, endless worries, annoying cartoons on obnoxious repeat, and saying a bunch of phrases you never could have imagined yourself saying before.
Especially, I imagined, when you chose to raise a small litter.
We were on four.
Rune, our oldest, a wildlife lover who spent most of his free time over at Rey's place, playing with animals. And, apparently, bringing some of them home too.
Then there were the twin girls. Aged five. Zora and Jovie. Who I swear loved their Uncle Thaddeus more than me.
Then, finally, two-year-old Carver. Who still loved me best. Bless his heart.
"He's hungry too," Rune insisted.
"He can eat in his tank."
"He's part of the family too."
"Let me get the kid a dog," Ty whispered to me as he passed. "It would stop all the little critters."
He'd had them all.
Hamsters of the dwarf and full-size varieties.
Guinea pigs.
Hermit crabs.
Mice.
"The cage cleaning is worse than the upkeep of a dog," he added.
He wasn't wrong about that. I spent a couple hours every week cleaning out cages and tanks and making specialized meals for all his creatures.
I had been worried about a dog knocking over Carver who was still a little unsteady on his feet. I figured it would be something to look into in another year or two.
But maybe it wasn't fair to Rune to deny him something he would absolutely get a lot of joy out of because of his brother.
"Something small," I specified. "And don't say anything until Rey finds something. Otherwise, we'll never hear the end of it."
"Knock knock," Thad's voice called, cutting off whatever Ty was about to say.
"Uncle Thad!" Zora and Jovie said in unison, hopping off their chairs it had taken me twenty minutes to make them sit down in for breakfast.
"And Uncle Olly," Thad added, moving inside. "And someone else."
Honestly, I expected their cat.
Who they brought everywhere.
I never thought it was possible for Thad to keep a secret. He was far too into attention, in being the center of every conversation.
He couldn't keep it to himself when he got a wax, or when he and Olwen tried a new sex position, or when he had a really fantastic brunch somewhere.
But, apparently, he could keep some things secret.
Big things.
Like the baby hopped up on his hip.
It all came back to me at once. The way Thad had been more distant lately. The way the guest room door at their apartment was stubbornly closed when it was always empty. The extra classes Thad was taking on at the gym, earning money I didn't think he truly needed for anything. And, of course, their mini-vacation they took last weekend.
It wasn't a vacation at all.
It was a trip to pick up a little girl with huge brown eyes in a doll-like face.
"Oh, my God," I gasped, settling Carver on the floor, forgetting all about cutting up apples and pears to go with the oatmeal I was supposed to be making. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Like you told us?" Thad shot back, still a little salty about the fact that we hadn't told anyone the news until we were almost five months along.
"That was different," I insisted, moving close, leaning down to give the baby a smile which she returned easily, without hesitation.
"Mmhmm," Thad said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, this is Bea. Her birth mother named her Beatrice," he clarified. "But we like Bea better."
"She's beautiful."
"She sure is," he agreed, leaning into Olwen who automatically put an arm around his husband, rubbing the side of his face against Thad's.
"You're going to be an amazing daddy," I told him, meaning it from somewhere deep.
"I've had a lot of practice," he brushed the praise off. Something the Thad he had been a decade ago never would have said.
A decade.
I had hardly even noticed the passing of it.