Frey scampered up to the dais and handed a cordless microphone to Liam, who immediately passed it to Isa like a hot potato. Isa chuckled as he took a moment to gaze out over the dozens of faces watching him.
“I’m not going to blather on about things everyone already knows, because I said a heck of a lot during our twentieth anniversary party,” Isa said. “But our family has been through a lot in the four years since then. We’ve overcome obstacles, and we’ve also expanded in size.” He smiled fondly at Tarius and Branson first, and then over to Miko and Linus. “I am a blessed man, in so many ways that I cannot possibly count. Liam and I are blessed.”
Isa raised his glass of sparkling cider. “Here’s to seeing all of you and more next year when we celebrate twenty-five.”
Tarius whistled again, and Branson hurt his hands clapping. Music resumed playing, and now that the direct attention was off the guests of honor, they deserted the dais. Isa made tracks in the direction of the main hallway, probably to hit the buffet in the next room. Liam went straight to Trei. Branson couldn’t hear the conversation, but he clearly saw Trei say the words, “I’m fine.”
The pair had bonded in the six-ish months since Trei moved into the Higgs house, and now that he was nearing his due date, Liam was hovering. Branson was thrilled that Trei had so much support from his surrogate family, especially with how nervous Trei was to be a single omegin.
Tarius slid his arm around Branson’s waist for a side hug that Branson eagerly leaned into. They’d both gotten less self-conscious of random displays of physical affection in large crowds, and Branson no longer gave much thought to holding his husband’s hand or kissing his cheek in public. Getting comfortable with PDA was another part of their journey as a couple.
More discovery on the road to building a life together.
“You know, for all the speeches your sire has given over the years,” Branson said, “he isn’t much for public speaking, even when it’s a room full of friends and family.”
“He’s never been one to soak in praise or attention.” Tarius kissed his temple, and Branson got a whiff of the wine Tarius had been indulging in this evening. “I think it’s part of why he spent his entire career as a public servant. Helping others, lifting others up.”
“It takes a selfless person, for sure.” More selfless than Branson was, but he also liked computers and code more than most people. He gazed around the room, locating so manymen in attendance he admired for that exact selflessness: Tarek Bloom, Eriq Lars-Higgs, Javier Corinth, Aeron Danvers, Brandt Lars-Higgs, and others Branson didn’t know, who’d worked with Isa Higgs during his long, decorated career.
Someone small slammed into Branson’s shin, and he looked down to see Yvan Freel stumbled backward and fall onto his tush with an affronted squawk. The baby was an adorable blend of Frey’s blue eyes and Gaven’s dark hair. “Oopsie, little man.” Branson squatted and helped Yvan back onto unsteady legs.
“My fault!” Jeuel appeared, red-cheeked and panting slightly. Eager to do more than study for his GED (he had aced his practice test last week, so Branson had no doubt he’d do great on the real one), he’d applied to be one of the paid babysitters/kid wranglers for the evening.
Apparently, he’d misplaced a charge.
“No harm done.” Branson tickled the back of Yvan’s neck, making the one-year-old squeal and babble a few nonsense words. Yvan was ahead of all his percentiles for growth and walking, but he was a little behind in his language skills. And yet Branson had a feeling once the kid started talking, he wouldn’t shut up—just like his chatty cousins and friends.
“Just think,” Tarius said to Jeuel. “This time next year? You’ll be chasing Trei’s little one around the ballroom.”
Jeuel laughed as he reached down to take Yvan’s hand. “Gosh, don’t remind me. I’m going to be a real uncle in a couple more weeks.”
Branson hid a flinch but he didn’t correct Jeuel that he was already an uncle to the triplets. He understood why Jeuel had trouble thinking of the triplets as his nephews. Jeuel was still warming up to referring to Emory and Caden (and their mates, by extension) as his brothers, because Jeuel had no direct biological link to the twins. Their relationships were still new, still forming, still finding an organic balance in their daily lives.
One day at a time, one small goal at a time, was the best Jeuel could do. And so far, those micro-steps were helping him move forward from the tragedies he’d left behind in Sonora.
No matter the biology, they were all family.
“I guess Trei still hasn’t picked a name,” Branson said.
Jeuel chuckled and shook his head. “No, he keeps vacillating between the same three, and he won’t tell me what they are.”
“Vacillating. Nice vocabulary word.”
“Heh, thanks. I really love the language studies in my curriculum. Words are endlessly fascinating, especially words from hundreds of years ago that we don’t use anymore.”
“Like what?” Tarius asked. “And think hard, because we use a lot of obscure words in the legal system.”
“How about the word yeet?”
Branson met Tarius’s bewildered gaze. “I’m not sure I want to know what that means.”
“It sounds like an STI,” Tarius quipped. “It’s not, is it?”
Jeuel laughed out loud, which made Yvan yank on his hand, pointing in the direction of the play area. “No, it’s not, and babysitting duty calls. See you guys when it’s time to go home!” He allowed little Yvan to pull him toward the fun.
“I’ll never get over how freaking smart he is,” Branson said to Tarius once they were alone. Or as alone as they could be in a ballroom full of people.
“Jeuel or Yvan?”
