Russell
One year later…
“We started researching a year ago,” River explained to me, Blake, and Casey. “Shawn and Cass were getting ready to adopt, too, so we decided to share resources. Trust me, there’s a lot to talk about.”
“Research early,” Blake muttered to himself as he wrote on his yellow legal pad. We were all at the house on a Sunday afternoon, and the coffee table in the living room was filled with pastries that Casey had been experimenting with for weeks, the focus of his current class at the culinary school.
River leaned forward and grabbed a blueberry scone, and his long necklace bounced above the pastries. “I’ll send you all the articles. We still have it handy.”
“That would be great,” I said. “I think we might still be a few years away, though, just so you know.”
I glanced over at my guys. Together, we’d figured out pretty quickly that this was where we wanted to go. Casey was really the only one with any hesitations, but the more he thought about, the more excited he got. So even though there wasn’t any doubt, the three of us were still trying to figure out how exactly we were going to make that happen and to make sure we became the kinds of parents we wanted to be.
River chewed his scone. “A couple of years is good,” he said. “We’ll hopefully have our baby living with us by then.”
“Damn,” Blake said, holding his coffee mug between two hands. “It really is something, isn’t it? Thinking about being a parent.”
River laughed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It still makes my head spin.”
“Blake would be happy to start raising a baby yesterday,” Casey said, then grinned at Blake. “Lucky for me, he’s too cautious to do anything without a three-year plan.”
Blake frowned. “Well, it makes sense. You’ll finish culinary school first, and if we invest in a spot for your own restaurant, it will take Russell a while to finish the renovations.”
“We’re back to you buying me a restaurant?” Casey laughed.
I chuckled, too, and lifted my mug, which had a ring of red lipstick on the rim. “And I’m doing the renovations now?”
Blake turned up half his mouth in a smile. “Well, you probably wouldn’t be happy if anyone else did them,” he pointed out.
It wasn’t that Blake was pushing us. He’d just catch something Casey said in conversation or remember a silly fantasy I’d had while we were cleaning the kitchen, and the next thing we knew, he’d be planning ways to make it a reality. It was one of my favorite things about him, actually, like he just assumed we’d be able to have what we wanted because together, we kind of could.
For a couple hours that afternoon, we all hung out at home and talked with River. He answered our questions, and Casey urged us to eat more pastries, and the spring sunlight came through the windows and brightened the whole house. My head still spun anytime River mentioned our future child, but talking to him and hearing about his process really made the reality sink in.
We were going to do this. We were going to be parents.
My mom had even started to accept the triad, with a little help from Peyton, who pushed through his own awkward feelings at first to stand by us and help her along. And Blake was fully out at work, and after more than a year living together, there was no doubt our relationship was sturdy and strong.
So why not? I’d already spent enough of my life denying myself what I wanted. And with two good, loving men by my side, I was ready to start a family.
After River took off, I turned to clean the coffee table. Blake was piling plates, but Casey was distracted, rubbing the bottom of his beard as he looked out the window.
“Something up?” I asked.
Casey turned. “What? Oh, no, just thinking about something River said.”
“What’s that?” Blake grunted.
“His friends, Shawn and Cass. They might foster first.”
“That’s right,” I said. “One of the regulars at the bookstore has a foster kid. I’ve heard a little about it from him.”
Blake furrowed his brow as he grabbed the last mug. “It’s a good thing to do,” he said.
Casey stood there. I could see he was still processing and thinking about something. “Lots of kids who need foster care, right?”
I glanced over at Blake, who met my gaze. Without saying anything, we both agreed to stop and listen to Casey, so we set the dishes we were collecting down. “Especially older kids, I think,” I said. “Some will need permanent homes and some just temporary.”
“But most people don’t want a foster kid, is that right?”
