Uncle Dashiell gives Bobby a true smile and Bobby winks back. At least he’s helping somehow. He slowly chews his scone, then nearly chokes as loud groans begin to filter through the ceiling. Albie hurriedly starts listing off all the research he’s been doing to drown out the sound.
Bobby knows it’s normal, but it sends a sliver of dread through him to hear his aunt in such agony. How can that kind of pain result in anything less than catastrophe?
“I could fetch Demeroven for you, if you’d like,” Albie suggests. Uncle Dashiell slowly rips his gaze from the ceiling. “He’s been doing most of the aggregating of the various correspondence from the medical schools.”
Bobby winces. Part of him is desperate to see Demeroven. Would even appreciate his helping to distract Uncle Dashiell, but... “One member of our extended family tree should be at Prince’s wedding,” Bobby says.
“Prince’s wedding,” Uncle Dashiell repeats, surprised. “Boys, I am sorry to have taken you from your friends. You can attend.This... will take some time,” he completes, just as the first true scream rips through the house.
“We don’t mind, Uncle. We’d much rather be here with you,” Bobby says honestly.
Uncle Dashiell gives him more of a grimace than a smile, and Albie launches into another round of statistics.
Bobby feels something from the previous night click against his brain.Friends. Is that what he and Demeroven really are now, odd family friends? Is that all they’ll ever be? Partners in keeping their two families safe, joined by Uncle Dashiell and Aunt Cordelia, and Beth and Gwen? Will they see each other socially, as true friends would? And would that really be enough?
The door to the study opens slowly and all three of them whip around to find Gwen padding into the room. She’s smiling brightly, but Bobby can see the tension in every single movement she makes.
“Cordelia sent me to tell you she’s fine—this is all normal, and you know she’s loud—and she loves you,” Gwen says, coming up behind Uncle Dashiell to wrap her arms around his shoulders.
Uncle Dashiell pats at her arm. “Right.”
“And that she hopes the boys aren’t getting you too drunk, but just the right amount, so you’ll be relaxed, but still safe to hold my little sister.”
“Brother,” Albie corrects.
“Sister,” Uncle Dashiell says, squeezing Gwen’s arm and shifting so he can look up at her. “You’re a wonderful daughter, you know?”
“I know,” Gwen says, before kissing his forehead. “Now, I’m going back upstairs, but everything is fine, and we’re all happy and—”
Aunt Cordelia’s scream pierces the quiet of the study.
“And your wife is loud,” Gwen says firmly.
“Yes. That’s all it is,” Uncle Dashiell agrees. “Now go be with Cordelia, and give Beth a hug for me as well; I’m sure she’s terrified.”
“Beth is ordering all of us around like a bossy little hen,” Gwen says, adoration in her voice.
“And Cordelia?”
“Loving every second of it.”
“Good.”
Gwen smiles at Bobby and Albie and goes to pull back from her father.
“Gwen,” Uncle Dashiell says, turning to hold her arm, so they can’t see his face. “I love you, very much.”
Gwen’s careful smile cracks a little, her eyes brightening. “I love you too, Papa. She’ll be fine.”
Uncle Dashiell nods and slowly relinquishes her. Gwen hurries from the room, wiping at her eyes. Uncle Dashiell turns back to them, slumping in his seat. He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.
“I hope both of you know the love I feel for my wife someday,” he says, opening his eyes to give them both a piercing look.
“I do,” Albie says immediately. “I promise, sir, I love Meredith with all my heart, and I’ll need you both there to keep me locked in my study when she gives birth.”
Uncle Dashiell reaches out and pats his shoulder. Bobby feels suddenly like the other in the room.
“It is a joy to love so deeply that you—that it is this terrifying to have your wife with child. That her health and safety mean the world to you. I did not know I could feel like this, that I could love like this, before she came back into my life, and it is a gift, boys. It is a true gift to be so happy that—thatif anything happened to her, I think I would throw myself into the Thames.”
