Mr. Baker’s frowning expression grew darker. “This isn’t just your lives you are talking about. Your decisions will affect a child. I’m going to have to think about this, but I will say you are all too young for the responsibility involved in raising a child, and, boys, it’s a long-term commitment.”
“Ryan!” Ms. Miller shouted out, shoving her fiancé in the shoulder. “Don’t be like that. You know that it takes a village to raise a child. Having four willing father figures could do wonders for a child. It certainly will beat growing up without any father at all.”
That comment surprised us all and seemed to make him soften.
“Mother nature gives you youngsters the energy to look after children. I think it’s all biology. But what worries me s that I’m too young to be called granny when I’m only just getting married.”
“You certainly do not look old enough to be a granny,” I said and received a warm smile back. “We have all talked and we’re very committed to your daughter and our baby.”
“So,” Sam said, tapping his finger on the table. “Are we going to eat or are we going to continue to discuss the philosophical ups and downs of having anywhere between zero and four father figures in one’s life?”
“Yeah. We got this done. We explained ourselves,” Ryan continued, “and I know that you always make too much on the grill, Dad, so there’s plenty to go around.”
“Don’t blame a man for happening to enjoy leftovers.”
“I’m not. Just share those leftovers with Noah and Brandon now.”
“Oh, if I have to.”
“Yes, you have to!”
The conversation got a lot more light and fun after that. It was a rough start, but I had faith that our relationship would be flowing fine soon and that it being a bit weird would hardly be on the menu anymore.
The parents took it better than any of us could have hoped.
Of course, there was one other set of parents to talk to, but after this event, I mistakenly thought ours should be a breeze.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
GRACE MILLER
SEVEN YEARS LATER
It takes a village to raise a child, and we have a pretty good village.
What we managed to build fresh out of college was nothing short of amazing. Although fresh out of college probably wasn’t altogether accurate.
Brandon was a couple of years ahead of us, but having the academic brains and being fascinated by psychology, he stayed on to do a Master’s degree, and I think one day he’ll do a doctorate.
And the genius among us decided to skip college altogether—that was Noah, who else? He couldn’t see what he had to gain from signing up to further schooling once high school ended, and for him, that was true.
“I’m already earning more money than the people who will teach me,” he said.
True enough.
“I run an international business with freelancers employed in a few different countries. I’d rather concentrate on that for now, and it will give me plenty of time to stay home with our baby while you kids go get an education,” he’d said to us as if he was so grown up.
And that always amused us all, because when my four guys got together, Noah looked like the youngest cute boy surrounded by three strapping beefy men. But still, he had that sexy geek aura about him coupled with his sweet and sassy personality.
In that time, the twins had stepped up, grown up, and proved themselves worthy of the blessings in their lives.
Our lives were blessed.
Before me, a beautiful sight: the low sun cast long shadows across the landscape, waves crashed onto the beach, and the salty sea flavored the breeze.
In my arms, my newborn child, Ellen, suckled and slowly dozed off to sleep.
Behind me, my handsome and wealthy husband, Noah, rubbed my shoulders. He’d filled out a lot since his teenage years, fitting in a workout schedule around childcare duties and running a business. It sure was amazing how the guy thrived on achievement and little sleep. He was made for fatherhood.
They all were.
Baby Ellen seemed such a quiet one after dealing with the fury of her three older siblings.
Turns out, twins ran in Ryan and Sam’s family. There was a good chance that Christopher and Catherine, my two eldest, wouldn’t be the only set if we kept producing offspring at our current rate.
Still, the four fathers absolutely doted on the children, as if the babies gave the men lots of excuses not to grow up too fast. And the men seemed to all share a fetish for pregnant women. When my belly grew rounder, it didn’t deter them from touching me, not one bit.
And the men played a full role in the family, for me and for the children, so much so that I had spare time to enjoy with the little ones.