Branson returned to dusting the living room shelves. The doorbell rang a while later, and since he was closest to the front door, he walked over. Checked the peek hole. His heart gave ahappy lurch at the sight of Tarius on the front porch, bundled up in his winter coat and scarf. He also held two large pizza boxes.
“Hey there,” Branson said as he pulled open the door. “What’s this?”
“Lunch.” Tarius came inside so Branson could shut the door against the freezing air. “I wasn’t sure who’d be home.” His bright smile and direct attention clearly said he was happy Branson was there.
“Dude, do I smell pizza?” Frey asked as he appeared from the dining room. “Oh, cool, hey Tarius. You brought pizza? Or did you meet the delivery guy on the sidewalk?”
Tarius laughed. “I brought it directly from Little Nino’s.”
My favorite pizza place. He remembered.
“You’re the best,” Branson said. “Bring it into the kitchen, so we can get plates and drinks.”
“This is great,” Frey added. “I’ve been craving pizza all week.” He pressed a hand over his barely rounded belly. “This little one has wanted all the cheese and black olives lately.”
“I didn’t order black olives,” Tarius said. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I think Emory keeps a jar in the fridge.”
Frey got paper plates, while Branson pulled a two-liter bottle of cola out of the fridge. The interior was sparse, but no one was really cooking or doing much eating at home right now. One pizza was a meat lover’s, the other plain cheese. Branson pulled a bottle of ranch dressing out of the fridge, too, for dipping his crusts in, something he’d done since he was a child. Frey found a nearly-empty jar of black olives. Tarius produced the red pepper flakes, even though he didn’t like it.
Only Branson did.
Tarius sat next to him at the island countertop, while the three omegas rotated in for slices in between watching the triplets. Branson had no words for how much he appreciated the kind gesture from Tarius. Taking care without smothering.Showing up without demanding Branson talk. They existed in silent solidarity.
The solid, steady support was everything.
Branson had tucked away his first slice, and he was contemplating another when his mobile rang.
“It’s Dad,” he announced to Tarius and to Khory, who was refilling his cup of soda. “Hey, Dad? Update?”
“He’s awake,” Dad said, his voice thick but so full of joy that Branson choked. “Caden’s awake. He seems okay, but he’s really groggy.”
“Thank fuck.” Branson repeated the words, then shouted for Emory. Everyone needed to know the good news as soon as possible. “So, there’s no permanent damage?”
“The doctor wants to keep him in hospital for a few more days, but he’s talking and asking questions, and he’s doubting who’d actually want to come see him, which is so ridiculously Caden. I just…I can breathe again.”
Emory bolted into the room, and Branson switched the call to speaker. “We can all breathe again now that Caden’s awake,” Branson said, smiling at Emory through watering eyes.
Emory burst into tears, and Khory wrapped him up in a tight hug.
“Don’t cry, baby boy,” Dad said. “He came back to us, okay? Hold that tight until I can give you a hug.”
“He’s nodding,” Branson said, since Emory couldn’t.
“Good. Hopefully, they’ll move Caden out of ICU later tonight, maybe tomorrow morning, we aren’t sure. I’ll call Braun, but can you start telling your friends?”
“Absolutely.” Everyone would be thrilled to know Caden had turned a corner. Branson was still dizzy with relief and gratitude that the goddess had seen fit to spare his brother. That their family had, once again, been blessed. “Give him a hug from all of us?”
“Absolutely. I love you boys.”
“Love you, Dad.” After Emory mumbled something similar, Branson ended the call. He wanted to dance, to scream, to do any number of things to expel all the emotions bubbling up inside him.
He shocked himself by standing, crossing the kitchen, and going outside to the cold backyard. He walked to the oak tree and pressed his palms against the rough bark. Let the chilly air caress his face and cut through his clothes. Caden was awake. He wasn’t completely out of the woods, Branson knew that without Dad expressly saying it, but it was progress. He tried to hold tight to the joy and ignore the fear.
“Bran?” Tarius. Close by.
He didn’t expect the warm weight of his winter coat to settle on his shoulders. He turned, and his heart melted into mush at the sweet, sympathetic look on Tarius’s face.
