“Violet saysI get to be the flower girl, ifyousay it’s okay, Daddy. I can wear a princess dress and throw the flowers!”
I’m wedged into the backseat of Bea’s car, taking up nearly the entire bench seat except for where Natalia’s booster rests. My little girl is filling me in oneverydetail of her life from the time I saw her yesterday until now, her tiny hand gripping mine in her lap. She latched on when she came with Bea to get me from the hospital and has only let go long enough for me to slide into the vehicle. It’s the only sign I have from her that, despite the cheerful, animated way she speaks, underneath, Nat is having big feelings. Feelings she might not be able to name, and as I try to listen attentively, worry pulls at my gut.
“You will be a beautiful flower girl, little love. Let’s hope Vi and Crosby can settle on a date,” Bea interjects from the driver’s seat. Her eyes flick to the rearview mirror, glancing quickly at Nat and then landing on mine. She returns them to the road, and I smile at my daughter.
“You’ll be wonderful,milaya.”
Natalia launches into a story of how she beat every single one of my teammates at Candyland the night before they left for their road series. I close my eyes, relishing in the sounds of childish boasting, squeezing her hand with pride. The team is scheduled to arrive home later tonight, but I have hundreds of text messages from them to get through now that I have my phone again. It sat nearly untouched on my bedside at the hospital. The Rubber Puckies chat alone accounted for nearly three hundred messages, and I’ve barely been able to make it through half ofthem. Guilt, gratitude, and a few other emotions swirl in my gut every time I open the group chat.
The car lapses into a natural silence, or maybe I drift off without meaning to, because the next thing I know, the engine cuts and Natalia is bouncing in her booster seat.
“We’re home, Daddy!” Bea gets out and rounds the car, opening Nat’s door and helping her unbuckle with ease. “We have a surprise for you!”
“Little love, don’t ruin it!” Bea gently chides, prompting Natalia to make a zipping motion over her lips, but she half-tumbles, half-climbs out of the car with her excitement. Bea deftly keeps her from faceplanting, guiding my giddy little girl toward the front porch and coming around the car to my door. I pop it open, swinging a leg out just as Bea reaches me.
“Here, let me help?” She offers her arms as buffers to keep me from taking my own tumble. Her eyes flash with worry, but her brow furrows with concentration, even as I know she won’t be much help if I unexpectedly fall. She’s a foot shorter and almost one hundred pounds lighter. I’ll crush her. As if she can read my thoughts, she lets out a puff of indignation and stomps her heel. “There are some patches of ice I haven’t been able to clear; I just want to make sure you don’t slip.”
“You’vebeen clearing the walkway? Shovel and salt?” I exit the car, firmly on two feet, and close the door behind me. Bea still hovers, arms loose and raised slightly, but the concern has been wiped from her face at my teasing.
“I’ve beensupervising,” she huffs. I like seeing her feathers slightly ruffled like this. Every time she’s been at the hospital, she’s completely serious and focused on either Natalia or me. But I’ve noticed the dark circles under her eyes that mar her usually peachy complexion. The thin line of her lips that only twitches in the corners instead of turning up in a real smile. Theway her fingers flew over the screen of her phone after the care team gave an update.
“I think you’ve done a lot more than supervise lately,” I say gently. Learning that Bea was watching over Natalia with Ms. Margaret eased every worry I woke up with. Well, most of them. She took on every task, no matter how big or small, and I’ve vowed to make sure she knows just how grateful I am. A beautiful blush creeps over the apples of Bea’s cheeks, and she offers a hand to me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she says as my fingers link with hers, and we turn toward the house.
On the porch, I can hear shuffling inside, and I slow my steps to look down at Bea with an eyebrow raised. There’s Natalia’s distinct giggle, peeling high and clear before a deep voice shushes her, and the house goes quiet.
“I couldn’t tell her no when she asked. Your daughter has spent the last two days planning this, so please try not to hate it.”
It’s the only warning and explanation I get before Bea reaches the front door and pushes it open, calling for Natalia. My daughter announces she’s in the living room. When I round the wall to the space, Natalia is in Cal’s arms with a big smile on her face and surrounded by the rest of my closest friends. I freeze, shocked. They all look a little worse for wear—or flat-out exhausted—but they are here.
“Surprise, Daddy!” she cheers. Cal bounces her to match her excitement. “Papa Cal said we’re not allowed to yell because we can’t make your heart jumpy.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Obie deadpans from where he stands by the arm of the couch, but he gives me a warm smile.
Seatednext to him is Gus, who is throwing daggers at Obie for the light jab. Obie just shoves at his shoulder, and Gus turns to give me his toothy grin, incisor missing for the night.
Also on the couch is Crosby, with a teary-eyed Violet tucked into his side. The pair smiles and waves from their seats, and I ache to hold Bea the same way. I tug at our joined hands until she wraps an arm around my waist, and I can drop mine around her shoulders.
Leo leans against the side of the couch, giving me a warm smile and a wave. Even as the newest guy to The Midnight, he’s here. Supporting me and my daughter.
The final member of the group is Charlie, who stands closest to me. While normally quiet and observant, Charlie’s usually guarded face is worn. He looks five years older than he is, aged by shadows under his eyes and lines furrowed deep in his forehead. The corners of his lips are turned down, the frown deeply upsetting as I see him try to tick it into some resemblance of a smile. My best friend is trying to hide how concerned he is for my benefit. It won’t fix things, but I don’t hesitate to step forward and give Charlie the strongest hug I’m capable of.
“Just glad you’re okay,” he whispers, then pulls back, the tension finally leaving his face and shoulders. I clasp the side of his neck, squeezing for a moment.
“I will be,” I tell him. Charlie nods and moves toward Natalia, who is wiggling out of Cal’s hold. I slide back to Bea’s side, believing what I said. I look around at my people—myfamily—and know I really will be okay.
“Welcome home, Nicky,” Bea says. She looks up at me, a storm of emotions playing in her beautiful whiskey eyes, and a tentative smile spreading across her face.
CHAPTER 19
NICKY
“It’s not rude. Nicky is also literally sleeping,right there.Forgive me for catching a short nap, too. I’m fucking tired.”
“Language? Natalia can hear every word you’re saying.”
I crack an eye open from my spot on the couch. Gus and Obie are going back and forth from the corner, Gus yawning before pulling a hair tie from his wrist and piling his hair into some weird version of a bun. It’s late evening, dark outside the windows. I dozed off after taking a shower to rinse the hospital feeling off and settling here.
