"How’s it going?" I ask as I take a seat beside Soren. He smiles softly, with that touch of shyness I always see in him, the one his bad-boy aura used to hide.
Soren’s stomach has a small but noticeable curve. He’s in his third month of pregnancy. I admit I was surprised when I found out they were expecting, because I thought Soren wasn’t too eager to expand their family so soon, but apparently Skye convinced him to try for another baby.
"So what name did you pick for the newest addition to the family?"
Soren thinks for a moment, then says, "I think we’ll stick to the color theme. We already have Silver, but we still can’t decide on a color…"
"I know a thing or two about naming kids in a specific pattern, it’s actually pretty fun, but at some point you startrunning out of good options, and that’s when you might want to go back to the classics."
"I personally like the name Lumen, it means ‘bright’ in Latin," Skye says.
Soren smiles and says, "What about Lumen Lake?"
"Hey, that’s too big of an honor," I laugh, leaning in to look closely at little Silver. "Has anyone ever seen longer lashes on a baby?"
Skye brushes his hand gently down Soren’s back.
"He gets that from his beautiful dad!"
Soren looks at him teasingly, secret promises hidden beneath his own black lashes.
"He really is the cutest kid," I murmur, gently rubbing Silver’s cheeks.
"And how are you feeling, Soren?" I ask softly.
"I’m good, Skye won’t let me lift a finger." He gives Skye a warm look.
Skye leans in and pecks him on the lips. I love the energy between them, soft and close, a far cry from how things between them started.
I turn, planning to head toward Storm’s table, where Damien sits with a huge bowl of ice cream, leaning back because his pregnant belly keeps him from sitting too close to the edge. But Storm isn’t there.
He’s easy to spot. His massive frame moves surprisingly quickly between the bushes, as he plays with River’s kids. My grandson, Aiden is clutching a plastic gun, same as Van, and they’re chasing Storm around the hydrangeas, spraying glitter at him. Little Lake follows them, giggling.
When they run past Rain and Skye, both turn at the noise, clearly hearing the boys shouting something.
They both get up and follow the little group.
"Hey," Rain calls to Aiden, "playing with the plastic guns is fine, but yelling ‘kill the alien’ is not okay."
Aiden freezes. Van stops too. Lake, who’s running after, catching glitter in the air, halts and tilts his head up at them.
Skye walks over as well and says, "Games are fun, but words can hurt someone," standing next to the boys, who both lower their plastic guns.
"Sorry," Aiden blurts, cheeks bright red. But Storm, noticing that his nephews are getting scolded on his account, walks over and ruffles Aiden’s hair.
"It’s all good, nothing happened," he says with an easy smile, then turns to Rain and Skye.
"What’s up with you two? You’re so serious today." He tilts his head.
Rain really does look serious, and he steps closer.
"You know… I’ve had time to think about some things from our childhood. The way we treated you. I wanted to apologize, Storm."
Skye nods firmly.
"I agree. Some of the stuff we did wasn’t right. I hope you can forgive us."
A strange expression crosses Storm’s face, somewhere between being touched and embarrassed.
