It's Always Complicated (Her Billionaires Book 4) (33 page)

“Mom?” He reached for her, guiding her through the door frame. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to grandpa?”

“No!”

“Did John get hurt?” He looked around the room with detached panic, calm and cool on the inside. The sound of the shower water stopped in the distance.

“No!”

“What’s wrong?” He hadn’t seen his mother like this in years, eyes red and swollen, her emotions all over her face, hands shaking. Whatever was going on had to be devastating.

A few hitched sobs and Meribeth finally calmed down enough to answer.

“My baby is a man!” she wailed.

Oh.

At that exact moment, as he pulled his mom in for a hug, Josie appeared over her shoulder, toweling her hair.

What’s wrong?
she mouthed.

He shrugged.

Josie’s eyes widened to the point of an evil clown’s death stare.
Tell me
, that look demanded.

He shrugged again.

“And you’re never going to live at home again!” his mom cried out.

Josie shook her head slowly.
No way
, she mouthed.

He, well...shrugged.

What was this about?

“Mom, I haven’t lived at home for years. This isn’t something new,” he muttered into her damp hair.

“But this is forever! My one and only baby is getting married and soon you’ll have babies of your own and then that’s it! I’m done. You don’t need me.”

Josie began to take careful, obvious steps backward, out of the room.

He glared at her.
Help me
, he mouthed.

She shrugged.

“I’ll always need you, Mom.”

“It’s not the same. Today marks a ceremony that hands you off to another woman’s care.”

He swore he heard Josie snicker from the shadows in the hallway. She would pay for this.

“You make me sound like chattel, Mom. Did you pay Josie a dowry?”

Meribeth laughed through her nose. “Maybe I should.”

“Where is this coming from?”

She reached for a tissue in the pocket of her hoodie and blew her nose. “Oh, you know. Perimenopause and having my only son get married all snuck up on me on the same day. It was bound to happen.”

“I’m glad you came to me.”

“John kicked me out of the cabin and made me find you.”

Thanks, John
, he thought.

Knowing his mother’s cycle was a bit much to take, even for a trained OB-GYN. “Want a cup of coffee?” he asked, moving toward the small kitchen in the cabin.

“Sure. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“No, I should. It’s just—you’ve always been so independent. And then last night’s catastrophes could have included you among the injured...or worse. I think it’s all hitting me, and I have no way of processing all of these emotions, so I’m turning to you.”

“Good.”

“I never did this when you were younger.”

“Did what?” He scooped the coffee with exaggerated patience and filled the pot with water.

“Turned to you for emotional support.”

“You can now, Mom. I’m a grown man, remember?”

She burst into a fresh set of tears.

A man who has no idea what to do right now
, he thought to himself.

Setting the coffee pot to begin brewing, he patted Meribeth’s shoulder, feeling like an awkward teen. His mom never did this. She was a warm and loving mother, always busy, and dedicated to her work as a psychologist. Not once, during all of the wedding planning and prep, had she done more than look at him with a welling of nostalgic tears in her eyes.

“W-w-we were making the baby board for you and Josie. Her mother and aunt have some lovely pictures of little Josie as a baby and toddler, and I showed them yours, and it hit me like a great wall of timeless grief that you would never, ever be my baby again. I had you so young, Alex. It was like we grew up together, in some ways. And I spent so many years in college, then in graduate school, and I feel like I was always busy.
Too
busy. You were an easygoing boy and I hope I didn’t ignore you and now those days are gone and I’ll never have them back,” she said in a rush of words, like thousands of starlings
flitter
ing past him on a riverbank.

“No, no, Mom. No. You were a great mother. The best mother I could have ever asked for.”

She reached up for a hug and he turned into a little boy again instantly at the smell of her neck. A six-and-a-half foot tall physician-boy.

“I was a teen mother and made so many mistakes and you were so independent and now you and Josie will forge a life together I’m not part of.”

“But we’ve been living together for years, Mom. We have that separate life.”

“This wedding makes it formal. It’s a truth on paper and in ceremony. You don’t have to get married for the truth to be real, Alex, but getting married is a public statement. You are one new person together. You’ll never be my little boy again.”

“I can’t—” He cleared his throat, suddenly thick with emotion. “I can’t change that.”

“I don’t want to change it!” she gasped. “I just want to hold the past and the present at the same time in my arms.” She gave him a wan smile. “Some day you’ll have a little boy or girl of your own and you’ll know what I’m feeling.”

“I hope so,” Josie said softly, from the hall.

“Josie!’ Meribeth exclaimed, sniffing repeatedly and giving Alex a wild, apologetic look. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I can give you two some privacy.”

“No!” His mom started crying again. “Look at me, being silly on your wedding day!”

“It’s not silly. You’re the only person on earth who loves Alex as much as I do.”

“More,” his mom said, then clapped her hand over her mouth.

“You want to arm wrestle for the crown?” Josie joked.

“When I dream about two women fighting over me, this is not the scenario,” Alex
mumbl
ed.

His mother reached for Josie, and Alex wrapped his arms around them, a lump of emotion making his throat ache.

“I am going to need to adjust to this new reality,” Meribeth announced. “I thought I had.”

“Me, too,” Josie whispered.

“And me,” Alex added.

“I love you both very much. And I’m so proud of the man you’ve become, Alex.” His mom kissed his cheek and peeled out of his arms, giving Josie a shaky smile.

“Thank you,” Josie said through a shine of tears in her eyes.

“Me?”

“For raising a man so wonderful that he reduces you to tears like this at the thought of letting go.”

And the wailing began again. Doubletime.

Only this time, Alex didn’t have to shrug.

Laura

Mother Nature decided to open her sunny arms and offer up a perfect afternoon for the wedding. Sandy had outdone herself, the enormous tent off to the side with tables and chairs for two hundred and fifty guests, a wide pergola with roses woven through the slats designed for the five of them to stand before the minister. Laura and Josie had found a local minister to administer the wedding vows—and someone who could legally officiate and file the marriage license for Josie and Alex.

Laura didn’t care any longer that her wedding “didn’t count,” because it counted more now than ever before.

Small bouquets of white carnations and orchids sat in baskets at the end of each row of guests, simple silk ribbons tied into thick bows dotting the chairs. The
light
wind was just enough to take the edge off the heat, yesterday’s storm making the weather perfect. A few clouds dotted the sky, and in the far distance, on shore, Laura saw a rainbow kite flying high.

They’d changed the order at the last minute to Josie, Alex, Mike, Laura, Dylan so that Alex could grab Mike if he felt faint.

So far, so good.

In the front row, directly behind them, sat Dylan’s parents, right next to Big Mike and Mary. Adam, Aaron and Jillian were in the same row with Cyndi and Ellie.

Jillian stood, at Cyndi’s prompting, and the two walked to the back of the rows, Jillian proudly carrying her basket filled with red rose pe
t
als. She wore a dress like Laura’s, white with a red
s
ash and red accents, little ruby slippers on her feet. Laura wore open-t
o
ed
red
heel
s
, red earrings, and had a smile she couldn’t shake even if she wanted to.

Why on earth would she ever want to?

So much had changed in a little more than four years. What would the next four bring?

“Ready?” Josie whispered. She wore a
1920s
-inspired silk dress, the waistline closer to her hips, a wide burgundy sash and lace adorning her midsection. White roses with the tips of the petals dyed a lovely burgundy were in her hair, and she was, in fact, wearing make up.

Actual
make up.

Josie was also four inches taller than normal, and Laura was shocked to find herself almost eye to eye with her bestie.

“Are you wearing heels?” Laura marveled.

“Shut up.”

“Nice!’ Dylan snapped. “Telling the bride to shut up on her wedding day. Miss Manners would have a field day with you.”

“Miss Manners would be too busy with my mother to even so much as look my way,” Josie replied. On instinct, Laura looked at the other side of the front row, where Josie and Alex’s immediate family sat. Marlene, Meribeth, Alex’s stepdad John, Madge, Ed, Josie’s Aunt Cathy and Uncle Calvin, her Uncle Mike, Darla, Trevor and Joe.

They were a motley crew.

I’m the only one without a blood relative here
, she thought, gasping slightly at the realization.

Someone tugged on her hip. She looked down into Jilly’s eyes.

No
, she corrected herself.
Not quite
.

“You look like a princess, Mommy. Even prettier than the ones in the movies,” Jillian said, all wide eyes, cupid’s-bow lips, and blonde curls.

“You do too.”

“I look like you!” Jilly twirled in place, her skirt billowing out, the sight lifting Laura’s heart.

And then the pianist began the opening notes for the procession
al
.

“That’s you, Jilly! It’s your turn! Go throw the rose pe
t
als!” Cyndi said, giving Laura a sweet look.

Jillian scrunched up her face in concentration and slowly, somberly, began her trek down the aisle. Taking the job seriously, Jilly stopped at ever
y
step, showering the person at the end of the aisle with rose petals. By the time she was halfway down the aisle, her basket was empty.

She burst into wailing tears.

That cry of anguish set off her brothers, who began to cry in earnest, faces turned backwards toward the lineup of brides and grooms.

“MAMA!” the twins wailed in unison.

Cyndi practically sprinted up the aisle, murmuring into Jillian’s ear as the guests smiled and chortled, amused by the sweet chaos of toddler disappointment.

And still the boys carried on.

“It’s like an Irish funeral, all the keening,” Laura heard someone joke.

She felt her stress and anxiety hit fever pitch, and then laughter, deep and true, filled the space between her, Mike and Dylan as they congregated at the back, ready for their orderly, measured entrance.

Which clearly was not going to happen.

“But I want more flowers!” Jillian shouted, her sob crescendoing at the end. Aaron and Adam were like backup singers, providing extra wails to emphasize the melody.

Cyndi gave Laura, Mike, then Dylan a look of speculation. It didn’t say,
Help me.
 

More like,
What now
?

Dylan took the lead, grabbing Laura’s hand and gently putting his other on Mike’s shoulder, the three walking down the aisle, Jillian startled into silence by their appearance. Scooping her little girl up, Laura whispered in Jilly’s ear, “You were such a good flower girl!”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dylan peel Aaron off his mother, plunk him on one hip, and then do the same with Adam on the other.

They balanced him out.

Reaching for Mike’s good hand, she and Mike met Dylan at the altar, the crowd laughing and chatting, Josie and Alex giving a
What the heck?
shrug and walking hand-in-hand down the aisle, Alex looking like Mike and Dylan, suited and clean-shaven, happy and beaming.

With the three kids sniffling and calming down, the five adults faced the amused minister.

And so their wedding began.

Mike Pine

He was here. That was his crowning achievement. His bones throbbed and the painkillers the hospital gave him made him woozy, so he’d made it through the last few hours with ibuprofen and simple grit.

The fiasco with the kids and the crying as they tried to go down the aisle just cemented the fact that real life was messy. Real life didn’t follow an orderly path. Real life didn’t bow before any god, nor did it respect any human.

Real life just
was
.

And real people bend so that others don’t have to break.

Wishing he could help carry the kids, but knowing he couldn’t, Mike let Dylan and Laura manage the herd. He was a stalwart set of hands most of the time, but most of the time he didn’t have bones that broke and crunched if used, so...

He would have to let them take care of everything and just be content wit
h
being present.

Speaking of being present, he caught his parents in the crowd, the sight of them in the front row next to Dylan’s parents, Rose and Paul, one of the most surreal moments he had ever experienced. In the craziness of his hospital release, coming home to reunite with the kids, trying to shower with a bag-covered cast, and realizing that Laura had to take care of all his grooming needs while getting ready herself, he hadn’t spoken to Ma and Pa.

They smiled at him, and Ma wiped away a tear.

The smiles were genuine.

If they hadn’t come, his happiness would not have been less, but their presence gave him more. Of course it did. Mending fences always led to holding onto that which could get away.