Moses
As soon as we pulled up to Ansel’s house, his entire family poured out. Michaela had been on the phone with her mom the whole way home, so we hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about her living with me. Looked like it’d be a while before we had that conversation.
I’d shot off a quick text to Yael before I left the parking lot, and when I parked and turned off the car, I quickly checked her reply.
Yael:OMG!!!! I’m so relieved, but I knew everything would be okay.
Yael:Leave me alone so I can go buy all the pink things and baby nail polish and teensy tiny bows…
Yael:Wait, do people still do that? Or should everything be gender-neutral? Gender is a social construct, and here I am, foisting it on my unborn niece.
Yael:I have to go think about this for a while. Tell Mickey I love her. And I love you too, bro. Good job on the procreating.
Michaela was swept from the car before I could show her Yael’s texts, but I didn’t begrudge her of her family’s attention. She had baby Logan on her hip, Vanessa and Jason glued to her side, and four-year-old Leticia attached to her leg. Ansel’s huge arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and Rosa stood there laughing at all of them. When I rounded the car, Rosa waved me over.
“Come laugh at these Ashwoods with me, Mo. They’re so clingy. I think it runs in their blood,” Rosa mused, then laid her hands on my shoulders and kissed both cheeks. “Congrats, papa.”
“Thank you. And I don’t know…I kinda like the clinginess.”
Her smile grew ten-watts. “Then you’ll fit in well here. My kids will be calling you uncle and following you everywhere. Be prepared.”
“Doesn’t sound too terrible.”
“No.” She shook her head and watched as Ansel tried to remove Logan from Michaela. The baby must’ve had suction cups on his limbs with how attached he was. I got him. I was fucking attached too. “It’s not terrible at all.”
Rosa clapped her hands, drawing all eyes to her. “All right, family. Let’s let Aunt Mickey and Uncle Mo have a little quiet time. Dinner’s at six. Mo, you aren’t a veggie, are you?”
Eyebrows drawn, I shook my head. “Nope. Meat eater.”
Ansel muttered something that sounded distinctly like, “That’s what she said.”
“Oh, good. We’re grilling, and I’d hate to only serve you a baked potato and fruit salad. We’ll see you guys later then.”
With that, she lined up her crew, and they filed back into the house. We were alone on their front lawn. It had happened so suddenly, I wondered if I’d dreamed them up. Then Jason reopened the front door and stuck his head out.
“Hey, Aunt Mickey. Daddy says your baby is healthy and she’s lucky she doesn’t look like Uncle Mo. Then Mommy told Daddy he should be so lucky to look like Uncle Mo. Daddy asked if she had some rock star fantasies or something. Is Uncle Mo a rock star? I’ve never heard of him. Do you know Shawn Mendes, Uncle Mo? He’s cool. He’s probably a lot more famous than you. I met him at one of Grandpa’s parties. He gave me his autograph. I hear him on the radio all the time. Mommy sighs when she hears his voice. Not the kind of sigh she makes when I dump my Legos on the floor. More like the kind of sigh she makes when Daddy—”
Jason was abruptly yanked from the door and replaced by a waving Rosa. “Please ignore my blabbermouth son and run as fast as you can. He looks like he has a lot more to say, and I can only hold him back for so long.”
Michaela grabbed my hand and pulled me through the yard. “We better go. When Jason gets started, he doesn’t stop.”
Inside her little cottage, she dropped my hand and went straight for the gingersnaps, grabbing a couple, then offering the bag to me.
I shook my head and braced my hands on the counter. “Am I staying for dinner?” It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. I had nowhere to be, but since Mic hadn’t been the one to ask, I had no idea if she even wanted me to stay.
“I’d like you to. Fair warning, all the parents will be coming over too.” She stuffed a cookie in her mouth and chewed, eyebrows raised.
“I’m out then. Being married and having a baby with you is one thing, meeting your dad is a whole other thing.”
She snorted, covering her full mouth with her hand. “Meeting my dadisa whole other thing. He’ll have questions.”
I tugged on the front of her shirt, and she stepped into me. “Then let’s decide on answers. What do you think about moving in with me?”
She laid her palms on my chest, her fingertips brushing my throat. “I would like to. But once she’s born, I might want to stay here for a while so Rosa can help me when I inevitably need it.”
“I’llhelp you.”
Her hand moved up to cup my neck. “I know. But have you ever nursed a baby? For that matter, have you ever changed a diaper? Rosa is an expert.” Her fingers pressed into my stiff muscles. “I’ll want you here too. It’s cramped, and I know you’re used to more luxurious conditions, but—”