“Imagine,” Stan continues, grinning. “A Libra baby!” He snorts at himself. “Kaye says with me and Lix being late-June dads for the kid, we’re gonna bond naturally. I’m telling you, Em, this is cosmic alignment.”
I keep my expression neutral. Astrology, statistically speaking, is a mere correlation. Birth months more strongly reflect seasonal factors than personality traits, and confirmation bias does most of the heavy lifting.
Still, Stan looks happy. So I say nothing.
Instead, I lean my head back against the seat and let my palm rest over my abdomen.
The underground garage opens up for us, the car rolling smoothlydown the ramp and into its assigned space in the corner with their motorcycles.
As soon as Stan opens his door, Lix is moving to get to mine.
A moment later, the three of us walk together toward the heavy doors connecting this garage to the basement, or rather what this family—no,ourfamily fondly calls the dungeon.
Once we’re through the doors, it’s too dark to see, so naturally Stan hits the light switch.
I don’t register the change in Lix’s posture before his arms are around me, firm and immediate, his chin tucked over the crown of my head like instinct took over before thought ever had a chance.
Surprised, I blink as the basement floor lights flick on.
That’s when I see them.
Damon and Kaye stand directly ahead, his hand resting over the swell of her stomach. Beside them are Sterling and Elle, close together in that quiet way they favor, Elle’s pregnancy just beginning to show beneath her loose sweater.
Both women are round now, in different stages. Kaye’s only a few months away from, as she puts it, “popping the twins out,” and Elle is trailing a few weeks behind me.
Above them is a banner that reads “Congratulations!”
Before I can fully process it, Kaye blows a noisemaker directly into Damon’s ear. It’s loud enough from here, so I can imagine how deafening it is to him.
Damon’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t let go of her. If anything, his arm tightens reflexively around her middle.
Stan freezes for a brief moment before he yells, loud and unfiltered, “It’s a boy, y’all!”
The sound ricochets down the concrete hallway.
He crosses the space in long strides, straight into Sterling, wrapping him in a hug so sudden and forceful that Sterling grunts inshock.
“Stan, what the f—” Sterling starts.
Stan squeezes him harder, cutting him off.
Sterling coughs and punches Stan’s chest in protest. “Get the hell off me.”
“Nope,” Stan whines. “Need this right now, Silver.”
Sterling tries to shove him off, but Stan plants his feet.
“Think of all the punches I’ve taken from you,” Stan mumbles against Sterling’s shoulder. “Right in the face too. And it’s my moneymaker. What if Em or Lix found me ugly? What then, huh?”
Sterling coughs in Stan’s pouting face when he lifts up for emphasis.
Kaye laughs and tosses the noisemaker over her shoulder. Damon catches it one-handed.
She turns toward me, brown eyes sparkling, and walks over as Lix loosens his hold of me.
“Em,” Kaye says my nickname, warm and earnest, stopping in front of me. “Okay, listen.”
Her hand points down the hallway, toward the door closest to the stairs and the future elevator shaft that’s been closed off for construction.
